This Christmas will be when we get our marriage back on track.
After all, we’ve got several days of family togetherness with the rest of the world shut out. Right?

Wrong.


When my wife returns home with her work colleague on Christmas Eve, nothing I do or say will change her mind about having invited him to spend Christmas with us.

‘He shouldn’t be alone,’ she insists, ‘it’s the first Christmas he’s being forced to spend without his wife and son.’ She gives me a look that affirms the subject isn’t up for discussion. Then he walks into the room, making it impossible for me to take the argument further.

Before long, I feel like an outcast in my own home.

There’s no denying how well he slots in. My kids love him and even my mother, normally so hard to win over, can’t see what my problem is. But I can see straight through him.

And I’m going to prove why.

I voice my concerns to my wife but still, she doesn’t listen. And as Christmas Day dawns, something has to give. Either he’ll be leaving or I will.

One way or another.