I was at my mom’s when my husband came to pick me up.
She handed me a big box of homemade jams, and I asked him to pop the trunk.
He told me to just put it in the back seat said the trunk was “really dirty.”
From what? He shrugged it off -“work stuff.” BUT he works in an office.
I let it go, but days later, when I asked to borrow the car, he refused.
Weird, since it’s our family car.
So, getting suspicious, I offered to clean the trunk – he went PALE, scrambling for excuses.
What the hell was he hiding a body? My mind started racing with bad thoughts.
That night, after he fell asleep, I grabbed his keys and opened the trunk.
I nearly screamed because there was a giant, glitter-covered unicorn piñata staring back at me.
At first, I blinked, utterly confused. Its one googly eye was slightly crooked, and it sat awkwardly amidst a pile of pastel confetti, empty candy wrappers, and a crushed party hat. There was also a bright pink banner crumpled underneath it that read: “Happy Pre-Birthday, Princess!”
What?
I reached in and picked up a small envelope wedged in the corner. Inside was a handwritten note that said:
“I know you hate surprises, but I was planning something special for your 30th – a mini party in the park with just the kids, cake, and this ridiculous piñata you said you always wanted as a joke. The trunk was supposed to stay off-limits until then. Sorry if I acted weird. I just wanted it to be perfect.”
I stood there in the driveway at midnight, heart pounding for a completely different reason now.
I didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or feel guilty for suspecting him of murder. So I did all three. Quietly. Next to a unicorn.
The next morning, I told him I knew. He looked so disappointed, like a magician whose final trick had been spoiled.
“I suck at lying,” he muttered.
“You suck adorably,” I corrected, wrapping my arms around him.
And that’s how I found out my husband wasn’t hiding a body.
Just a sparkly, horned, sugar-stuffed alibi of love.