I came home early from my business trip to surprise my husband, but instead of a warm welcome, I found him in the garden, sweaty and frantically burying a large black egg. He wouldn’t tell me what it was, so I dug deeper myself. What I found sent my heart racing.
After days of travel and tension between us, I decided to surprise Ben. But when I got home, the house felt off—dirty dishes, scattered mail, and urgent letters. I stepped into the backyard and froze. Ben was digging a hole, burying a massive obsidian-black egg. I asked him what was going on, but he refused to explain. Frustrated, I went to bed, unable to sleep. In the middle of the night, I saw him pacing around the burial site.
The next day, I dug up the egg. It was hollow and made of plastic. When I heard a neighbor ask about it, I hurried to hide the object, but my mind raced—what had Ben gotten into?
Later, I heard news of a counterfeit operation involving fake antiques, including black egg-shaped containers. I confronted Ben, and he confessed he’d been scammed. He spent our savings on the egg, hoping to make money and surprise me with a European trip. Ashamed, he had kept it a secret.
We agreed to work together to fix the situation, with no more secrets. Ben joked that we could plant the egg next to the tomatoes in the garden, as a reminder to trust each other. We laughed, but it was a lesson we’d never forget.
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