MY HUSBAND LEFT ME AND THE KIDS AT HOME ON X-MAS EVE TO CELEBRATE AT HIS OFFICE PARTY – WE PAID HIM A VISIT THERE

MY HUSBAND LEFT ME AND THE KIDS AT HOME ON X-MAS EVE TO CELEBRATE AT HIS OFFICE PARTY – WE PAID HIM A VISIT THERE

So, it was Christmas Eve. My husband was supposed to be home any minute. I’d decorated the house, the kids and I had put up the tree, hung the stockings, all that. My daughter was in a princess dress, and my son was in a pirate costume. The turkey was already on the table, ready to go.

Then my husband walks in and says, “Hey honey, are you all set for Christmas? Great! I need a white shirt and my black suit pressed. Can you iron it while I hop in the shower?”

I thought he wanted to look sharp to sit with us at the table! So, I ironed everything, only to find out he was actually heading to his office Christmas party and leaving us behind! He just left saying that the party was only for staff.

But then, his coworker’s wife calls me, asking, “Hey, what are you wearing tonight?”

So… he didn’t invite me!? Was he embarrassed by me or something? Fine. No problem. I packed up the kids and got into my car. Our first stop? His office party!

25 minutes later, I burst into that celebration

The moment we walked into the lavishly decorated ballroom, the music, laughter, and clinking glasses came to a screeching halt. People turned to stare—some with curiosity, others with poorly masked shock.

And there he was. My darling husband, dressed in his freshly ironed suit, holding a glass of champagne, laughing with a group of coworkers, completely carefree.

His smile dropped the instant he saw me—and our two kids.

Honey?” he stammered, quickly putting his glass down as if I hadn’t just caught him abandoning his family on Christmas Eve.

I smiled sweetly. “Merry Christmas, dear!” Then I turned to my kids. “Go find Daddy and wish him a happy holiday, sweethearts.”

My daughter, in her sparkly princess dress, and my son, wielding a toy pirate sword, ran to him excitedly.

Several of his coworkers watched in amused silence, but one of them—his boss—stepped forward with a pointed look.

“James,” his boss said, his expression unreadable. “You told us your family was out of town.

My husband visibly paled.

I folded my arms, my voice deliberately calm. “Oh no, we were home. Just waiting for our husband and father to join us for Christmas Eve dinner. You know, the one he promised us.”

A murmur spread through the crowd. His coworkers were whispering, clearly entertained.

James forced a tight smile, grabbed my arm, and leaned in. “Why are you here?” he hissed through clenched teeth.

“Oh, well,” I shrugged. “I figured since it was a staff-only event, and since your coworker’s wife asked me what I was wearing tonight, I’d come see what all the exclusivity was about.”

James ran a hand down his face. “Look, it’s just… it’s a work thing, okay? Not personal—”

But before he could finish, his boss chuckled and patted him on the back.

“Work thing, huh?” his boss said, shaking his head. “Leaving your wife and kids on Christmas Eve for a work thing? James, that’s not exactly the ‘family values’ image we want for company leadership.”

James’ jaw clenched. “Sir, I—”

“No, no, don’t explain,” his boss interrupted. “Because I’d hate to hear that you lied to your colleagues, your superiors, and worst of all—your own family—on Christmas.”

I bit my lip to keep from smiling as James’ career took a nosedive in real time.

His boss sighed and turned to me. “Mrs. Phillips, I’d like to apologize. This… situation doesn’t reflect what we stand for as a company.” He looked around. “I think we all owe you and your kids a real Christmas dinner. Everyone, let’s invite them to the buffet, shall we?”

The crowd cheered.

James, however, looked like he’d rather sink through the floor.

I let my kids go with the kind coworkers who started piling plates high with food, then I leaned in close and whispered in my husband’s ear.

“Oh, and James? Your stuff will be on the lawn when you get home.”

Then, I smiled, walked toward my kids, and let the Christmas party carry on—with or without my soon-to-be ex-husband.

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