Despite our busy lives, my husband Alex and I always made it a priority to attend family events. But lately, I began to feel a growing distance from my relatives, and what I eventually uncovered left me devastated.

Hi, I’m Emily. My husband Alex and I have been married for over a decade. Alex is a hardworking and charismatic man from China who works in the tech industry—a field he’s deeply passionate about. As for me, I’m an accountant, and between our demanding careers, finding time for family can be challenging. Nonetheless, we always made sure to attend major family gatherings, especially during the holidays.

Recently, I noticed a strange shift. My family, particularly my cousins, seemed increasingly distant. We used to be very close, but now they barely reached out. I initially attributed it to our hectic schedules, but something inside me felt like there was more to it.

I even brought it up with Alex one evening. “Do you think people are still upset that we missed Thanksgiving last year?” I asked, hoping he could shed some light on the situation.

Alex looked up from his laptop. “I don’t think so. We’ve missed gatherings before, and your mom always says people understand,” he replied. But his reassurance did little to ease my growing unease.

The silence from my family continued for months—no calls, no messages. It felt as if I was being pushed out of my own family’s narrative. When I spoke to my mom about it, she dismissed my concerns. “Everyone knows how busy you and Alex are. It’s not a big deal,” she said. But the feeling of being excluded only intensified.

One afternoon, while running errands, I accidentally bumped into Aunt Linda. Her arms were full of groceries, and her face brightened when she saw me. “Emily! It’s been so long!” she exclaimed with genuine warmth.

I was equally excited. “Aunt Linda! We’ve missed you! How have you been?” But her smile quickly faded as we embraced, and her tone turned serious. “I’m doing alright, dear. I just came from a family gathering. It’s a shame you and Alex couldn’t make it.”

My heart sank. “A gathering? We didn’t even know there was one,” I said, bewildered. Aunt Linda hesitated before speaking again, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Emily, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Aunt Linda. What’s up?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.

She took a deep breath. “Is it true what I’ve heard about you and Alex?”

I froze. “What have you heard?” I asked, anxiety rising.

“Your mom told me you’re involved in some sort of con artist scheme, and that Alex is using his tech skills for it,” Aunt Linda said quietly, her concern evident. “I didn’t want to believe it, but…”

I was utterly shocked. “What? That’s not true at all!” I exclaimed, tears welling up. I couldn’t believe this was happening and knew I had to confront my parents immediately.

Later that day, I video-called them, my heart racing. As soon as they appeared on the screen, I didn’t hold back. “Why are you telling people we’re con artists? Aunt Linda just told me everything!” I said, struggling to stay calm.

My dad’s expression was neutral. “Because that’s what you told us,” he said calmly, meeting my gaze through the camera.

I was flabbergasted. “I never said that!” I shot back, frustration bubbling over. “Why would you spread such a horrible lie?”

My mom, avoiding eye contact, left the room, leaving my dad to continue. His tone grew colder. “You must have forgotten,” he said dismissively, as if it were no big deal. He quickly tried to change the subject.

The conversation ended with no real answers. My parents continued to insist I had said those things, as if it were some minor misunderstanding. “No one thinks any less of you,” they added, which did little to comfort me.

I hung up feeling deeply hurt, confused, and betrayed. How could my own family believe such a thing? And worse, how could they think I would ever say something so awful about myself and Alex?