Secret Santa Asks Single Mom on a Date, but His True Identity Changes Everything — Story of the Day

I never imagined a simple Christmas wish would turn my world upside down. But when it led me to a date with Santa, followed by unexpected secrets and a jealous friend’s schemes, I was entangled in surprises I never saw coming.

The shopping mall sparkled like something out of a fairytale. Thousands of lights twinkled across every corner, and the air was filled with the scent of pine and cinnamon.

I glanced down at my four-year-old son, Oliver, and couldn’t help but smile. He adored Christmas. His eyes held a childlike wonder and belief in all the little magical moments that made the season so special.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Raising Oliver on my own had been both a challenge and a gift. We had each other, and I tried to make his childhood as warm and bright as possible, even when life got tough.

He was that part of my heart that kept me grounded, reminding me that joy could be found in even the smallest things. We were a team, always cheering each other on. As we strolled through the crowds, Oliver suddenly stopped.

“Mom, look! It’s Santa!”

He pointed eagerly to the big red-suited figure sitting on a golden chair, surrounded by a line of children.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

He looked up at me, his face beaming with hope. “Can we go talk to him? Please?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” I replied, smiling down at him as we took our place in line. Oliver fidgeted in excitement, looking up at me with a grin that stretched from ear to ear.

“I have something really important to tell him, Mom,” he whispered, clutching my hand tightly.

“Something special?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

He nodded, his face serious. Whatever he wanted to say, it meant a lot to him. Finally, Oliver approached Santa, glancing back at me before leaning in close to whisper to him.

I couldn’t hear the words, but I saw Santa’s eyes soften, his expression shifting to a kind and gentle smile as he listened. After their moment together, I bent down to Oliver, curiosity bubbling up.

“So,” I asked softly, brushing a lock of his hair from his face. “What did you tell Santa?”

“I can’t tell you, Mom,” Oliver whispered, grinning. “If I tell you, it might not come true!”

I laughed, nodding. “Alright, alright. Well, since you’re keeping secrets, how about we go grab a burger to share? I’m starving.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

He practically jumped with excitement. “Yes! Can I get fries, too?”

“Fries? Of course,” I replied, holding his hand as we made our way to the food court.

As we settled in and started digging into our food, I caught a flash of red from the corner of my eye. Turning, I saw Santa himself standing by our table and holding an ice cream.

“Would you two mind if I joined you for a while?” he asked, looking between us.

Oliver looked up at me. “Can he, Mom? Can he?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Of course,” I said, smiling at Santa. “Please, join us.”

Santa pulled up a chair and sat down across from Oliver, who stared at him with awe.

“So, Oliver,” Santa began, leaning in as if to share a secret, “what’s your favorite Christmas treat?”

“Oh, that’s easy! Chocolate chip cookies! Especially the big ones Mom makes.”

Santa chuckled, licking his ice cream. “Sounds like your mom knows what she’s doing. I have to agree—chocolate chip cookies are hard to beat.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Oliver nodded. “And what’s your favorite, Santa?”

“Oh, now that’s a tough question,” Santa replied, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “I think… hot cocoa, with a mountain of ice cream on top.”

I felt a warm smile spread across my face, watching how easily he connected with Oliver. We spent a while like that, laughing and chatting.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

After we finished eating, Santa turned to me with a gentle smile. “How about a little more holiday fun?”

Oliver’s eyes widened. “Like, at the amusement park?”

Santa grinned. “Exactly! How about some ice skating?”

Oliver turned to me, practically buzzing. “Mom, please! Can we?”

I couldn’t resist his enthusiasm. “Alright, let’s go!”

At the rink, Oliver held tightly onto both our hands, wobbling on his skates as we took our first few laps.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Santa’s hearty laughter echoed, steady and joyful, each time Oliver let out a triumphant cheer after staying upright.

“You’re doing great, Oliver!” Santa said, giving him an encouraging smile.

Oliver beamed. “I feel like I’m flying!”

As the evening continued, we wandered through paths lined with sparkling lights, gazing up at reindeer, snowflakes, and candy canes glowing against the night sky.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Oliver skipped ahead, and I couldn’t help but notice how Santa kept his costume on the whole time, staying completely in character.

“Thank you for tonight,” I said softly to Santa when Oliver was busy watching a display of twinkling stars. “It means the world to him… and to me.”

“It’s my pleasure. Tonight has been a gift for me too.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Eventually, the time came for us to head home. Santa walked us the whole way, keeping Oliver entertained with little stories about life at the North Pole. As we reached our front door, Santa knelt, looking into Oliver’s eyes.

“I’ll do my very best to make your wish come true,” he said, giving Oliver a wink.

“Thank you, Santa! You’re the best.”

Before I could say a word, he took my hand, and with a gentle, sincere look, he lifted it to his lips, pressing a warm kiss on my knuckles. As he walked away, his red coat blending into the soft glow of streetlights, I felt a flutter of happiness and warmth.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

***

Days went by, and although I kept myself busy, I couldn’t shake that evening with Santa from my mind. I didn’t fully understand it, but I felt drawn back to the mall, maybe just to see him one more time.

As I wandered the holiday displays, I suddenly heard a familiar voice.

“Laura? Is that you?”

I turned and found myself face-to-face with Mia, an old childhood friend.

“Mia! Wow, it’s been ages!” I hugged her, delighted.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, that’s true!” she replied. “Let’s catch up over coffee.”

We settled in, and before I knew it, I was telling her all about that night with Santa—how he’d been so kind to Oliver and how, well… I’d felt something special.

Mia’s eyes widened. “Laura, this is amazing! You have to find out who this Santa really is.”

“Oh, Mia. He’s probably just someone doing his holiday job.”

She nudged me. “Look! He’s right over there. Go say hi!”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Before I could stop her, Mia gave me a gentle push toward Santa. Blushing, I looked over, and… Santa noticed me and waved.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite family from the other night,” he said, smiling warmly as he approached.

“Hi,” I replied.

“Would you like to go out for coffee with me sometime?”

A date with Santa?

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Sure.”

When I turned to share my excitement with Mia, I saw she’d disappeared into a nearby clothing store.

***

That evening, a courier arrived at my door with a small card. It was an invitation, in neat handwriting, for a Christmas Eve date at a cozy café. My heart leaped with nerves. I quickly called Mia.

“Should I go? It’s Christmas Eve.”

“Laura, you’d be crazy not to! You can still be home with Oliver afterward. This is your chance!”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Her words stayed with me, filling me with courage. I dressed up, arranged for Oliver’s nanny to stay with him, and headed off for my Christmas Eve date.

***

That evening, I arrived at the café full of excitement and quiet hope. I was pleasantly surprised! He was handsome, charming, and carried himself with an easy grace.

For a moment, I felt like a character in one of those holiday romance movies, swept away by a little Christmas magic. But minutes later, my gaze landed on a glint of metal on his left hand. A wedding ring!

“So… are you… married?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Yes,” he replied nonchalantly, as if we were discussing the weather. “But they’re away for the holidays. A little fun never hurt anyone, right?”

I felt my face heat up. “Excuse me?”

“No need to look so serious.”

Without another word, I grabbed my coat and bag and hurried out of the café, barely holding back tears. What had started as a night full of promise had soured so quickly.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

I walked through the city streets, the chill air and bright lights doing nothing to lift my spirits. When I finally walked home, Oliver’s face lit up.

“Mom! Santa’s here! Look!”

My breath caught as I looked over and saw… our Santa from the mall!

“How dare you!” I snapped. “You’ve ruined enough for one night. Get out. And stay away from us.”

Santa stormed off, and Oliver ran off upstairs, his disappointment clear.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

The nanny shook her head. “He spent the whole day making Oliver happy… maybe that’s worth something.”

I was confused and ashamed.

But if he’d been here all day, then who was at the café?

***

Overwhelmed with suspicion and regret, I set off to Mia’s house, determined to get answers. When I arrived and saw a man in a Santa costume standing outside, I stopped short. He wasn’t the one I’d met at the café.

“Oh, God…” I whispered.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

I kicked out the wrong Santa! But with the costume, who could’ve known?

I stepped closer. The man with a sad smile was watching a young boy playing in the yard.

“My name’s Jack,” he explained. “This is… well, this is my son’s home.”

I felt my heart sink as I put the pieces together. “Your son?”

He nodded, his gaze fixed on the boy.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Mia’s my ex-wife. She doesn’t allow me to see him often. Playing Santa was my only chance to maybe… hold him if he came to make a wish.”

I gasped. “You’re the Santa from the mall! The one who spent the evening with us?”

“That’s me. Mia found out and came over, demanding more child support. That’s when she must have run into you.”

“Oh my god! She set me up! She must have sent that awful man to the café to make sure I’d never see you again.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Jack sighed. “Mia gave me an ultimatum. Either I return to her, or she’ll cut me off from my son for good.”

“She did all this because she was jealous? That’s… that’s horrible!”

“After she threatened me, I thought I’d at least come spend Christmas Eve with you and Oliver.” He looked up, his eyes earnest. “I haven’t felt so happy in years as I did that night with you both.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

I didn’t know what to say. Everything I’d assumed was wrong. Finally, I managed, “I’m sorry, Jack. I… I should trust my heart.”

“It’s okay. The night isn’t over yet.”

We picked up Oliver and went to Jack’s home, where he’d prepared a beautiful holiday feast, a tree lit with warm lights, and gifts waiting under it.

That night became a true holiday filled with laughter, warmth, and the family joy we’d all been missing.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

If you enjoyed this story, read this one: When I arrived to support my friend after she split up with a con man, I never imagined I’d be caught in a web of deception myself. Her tears and the details of her betrayal filled me with sympathy, but little did I know this visit would change my life forever. Read the full story here.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life. If you would like to share your story, please send it to [email protected].

A Scale, Suspicious Notifications, and a Person with Keys to Our House: What I Found Behind My Husband’s Lies

When Nicole started receiving mysterious notifications from the digital bathroom scale her husband brought home, she brushed it off as a glitch. But as the same numbers appeared week after week, her suspicions grew: Was Justin hiding something — or someone? What she uncovered SHOOK HER TO HER CORE.

What would you do if strange notifications started popping up on your phone? Like, ones you couldn’t explain? Because that’s exactly what happened to me, and let me tell you — it led to one hell of a discovery.

It started with a bathroom scale — a digital one. My husband, Justin, brought it home one random Saturday. “Let’s stay healthy together,” he said with this casual smile like it was no big deal. I wasn’t thrilled, but I played along. We stepped on it to “test” it out. Mine read 134.4 lbs, and his weight was 189.5 lbs.

A woman measuring her weight on a weighing scale | Source: Freepik

A woman measuring her weight on a weighing scale | Source: Freepik

“Wow, I didn’t realize I was pushing 190,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck.

I noticed his hand slightly trembling as he stepped off. “Justin? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just… just surprised, that’s all.” He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I used to be so fit in college.”

“We all change with time,” I said, touching his arm. He flinched away so subtly that I almost missed it.

I thought that might’ve been the end — just another gadget to collect dust in the bathroom. However, weeks later, these weird notifications started popping up on my phone. I’d linked the scale to an app when we first set it up, and one day, while sitting at work, I got a message:

“Unidentified user: weight 152.1 lbs.”

A shocked woman seeing her phone | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman seeing her phone | Source: Midjourney

I thought maybe Justin had stepped on the scale. But he weighed 189.5 pounds. Then it happened again. And again. I got these notifications three times a week. Same weight. Same time. Something didn’t add up.

At dinner one night, I asked him casually, “Hey, have you been using the scale while I’m at work?”

He didn’t even look up from his plate. “Nope. It’s probably the kids playing with it.”

“Three times a week at the exact same time?” I pressed, raising an eyebrow.

“Geez, Nicole!” His fork clattered against the plate. “Why are you interrogating me about a damn scale?”

An annoyed man | Source: Midjourney

An annoyed man | Source: Midjourney

“I’m not interrogating you. I’m just asking a simple question. And the numbers are, I don’t know… weird. You weigh 189.5 pounds. But the notification said 152.1. Am I missing something?”

He shrugged, clearly annoyed. “Maybe they’re holding the dog when they weigh themselves. I don’t know, Nicole. It’s just a scale. Why are you so obsessed with this?”

That was the first red flag. Something about the way he said it — so quick and dismissive — didn’t sit right with me. But I didn’t want to start a fight over a stupid scale, so I let it go for a while.

But the notifications didn’t stop.

A doubtful woman | Source: Midjourney

A doubtful woman | Source: Midjourney

Sometimes, the weight was random — 189.5 lbs (Justin’s weight), 35.3 lbs, or even 24.2 lbs. But that damn 152.1 lbs kept popping up like a ghost that refused to leave. This happened three times a week, like clockwork.

One night, I couldn’t sleep. The numbers kept dancing in my head.

“Justin?” I whispered in the darkness.

“Mmph?” he mumbled.

“Are you happy? With us, I mean?”

He rolled over, suddenly alert. “Where is this coming from?”

A frustrated man in his bedroom | Source: Midjourney

A frustrated man in his bedroom | Source: Midjourney

“I don’t know. You just seem… distant lately. Like you’re keeping something from me.”

“Nicole,” he sighed heavily, “it’s 2 a.m. Can we not do this now?”

“When should we do it then?” I demanded, sitting up. “Because every time I try to talk to you, you shut me down!”

“How annoying can this get?!” He threw off the covers and stormed out of the bedroom, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

An anxious woman | Source: Midjourney

An anxious woman | Source: Midjourney

One evening, while Justin was at the grocery store, I decided to take the scale to customer service, convinced it was broken. But when I explained the issue, the employee ran a diagnostic test and handed it back with a shrug.

“It’s working perfectly,” he said. “Every weight logged is based on someone actually using it.”

I felt my stomach knot. Someone was ACTUALLY using it?

When I got home, I confronted Justin again. “The scale isn’t broken,” I told him. “So who keeps stepping on it? It’s clearly someone who weighs 152.1 pounds. And it’s none of us here. Not you. Not me. Not the kids. And don’t you dare tell me it’s our dog.”

He sighed, his jaw tightening. “Nicole, it’s the kids. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

A furious woman frowning | Source: Midjourney

A furious woman frowning | Source: Midjourney

“You’re sure about that?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. “Because I’ve been watching them. They’re never home at that time.”

“Are you spying on our children now?” he exploded. “What’s next? Hidden cameras?”

“Maybe I should install some!” I shot back, tears burning in my eyes. “Since you won’t give me a straight answer!”

“Nicole, drop it!” he snapped, storming upstairs to our room. “It’s not a big deal. You’re acting like this is some kind of conspiracy.”

That was red flag number two. Then came the day everything changed.

I was on a work trip, trying to focus on a meeting, when my phone buzzed with another notification: “Unidentified user: weight 152.1 lbs.”

I happened to be on the phone with my eldest son at the time. “Hey,” I asked, keeping my voice light. “Who’s messing with the scale right now?”

A cellphone on a table | Source: Pexels

A cellphone on a table | Source: Pexels

“What scale?” he asked, sounding confused.

“The one in the bathroom,” I said. “Who’s using it?”

“Mom, no one’s home except Dad,” he said. “We’re all at school. Are you okay? You sound weird.”

My heart started racing. “I’m fine, sweetie. Just… checking something.”

“Mom,” he hesitated, “is everything okay with you and Dad? We’ve noticed you guys fighting more.”

“Everything’s fine,” I lied, my voice cracking. “Just adult stuff. Don’t worry about it. Okay. Thanks, sweetie. Love you.”

After I hung up, the realization hit me like a brick: Someone else was in my house. With Justin. But who?

My brain immediately went to the worst place. WAS IT HIS MISTRESS?

A suspicious woman lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney

A suspicious woman lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney

I tried to call Justin, but when he picked up, his response was the same as always: “It’s the kids, Nicole. Stop overthinking it.”

“Stop lying to me!” I screamed into the phone, my hands shaking. “I just talked to them — they’re at school!”

There was a long pause. “I have to go,” he said quietly. “We’ll talk about this later.”

“Justin, don’t you dare hang up —” The line went dead.

But now, I couldn’t ignore it. Someone was sneaking into my house, using the scale, and Justin was covering it up. I needed to figure out who.

The next night, after I got home, I sat down and combed through every notification on the app. That’s when I noticed the pattern: Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. Always at 1:50 p.m.

The next day was Thursday. And I knew exactly what I had to do.

A woman using her phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman using her phone | Source: Midjourney

I left work early, parked my car down the street, and waited. My heart pounded as the clock ticked closer to 1:50 p.m.

“Please let me be wrong,” I whispered, gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. “Please, please let me be wrong.”

At exactly 1:50 p.m., I got the message. And at 1:53 p.m., I saw someone walking out of my house.

From behind, they looked like a woman — lean, with a long ponytail swinging back and forth. But then they turned, and I FROZE. It wasn’t a woman. It was a MAN.

My mind raced with possibilities, each worse than the last. Was Justin living some kind of double life?

A man with a long ponytail closing a door | Source: Midjourney

A man with a long ponytail closing a door | Source: Midjourney

Furious, I jumped out of the car and marched toward him. “HEY!” I shouted. “WHO ARE YOU, AND WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE?!”

He turned, startled. “Oh, uh… you must be Nicole. Justin’s wife.”

My stomach twisted. “What? Who are you? And why do you have keys to my house?”

He raised his hands like I was about to arrest him. “I guess Justin didn’t tell you about us,” he said sheepishly. “Please don’t judge him! He was too embarrassed to talk about it.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I snapped. “What US?!”

A stunned woman | Source: Midjourney

A stunned woman | Source: Midjourney

“I’m Derek,” he said quickly. “Justin’s old college friend. He called me a couple of weeks ago. He’s been worried about his weight and getting out of shape. I’m a personal trainer and sports masseur.”

My head spun. “You’re… his TRAINER?”

“Yeah, I —” Derek started, but I cut him off.

“No, stop. Just stop.” I pressed my fingers to my temples, trying to make sense of it all. “You expect me to believe that my husband, who’s been acting like he’s having an affair, gave you keys to our house for… FITNESS TRAINING?”

Derek nodded, looking genuinely apologetic. “Justin didn’t want you to know because he was embarrassed about gaining weight. And the keys… look, after each session, I give him a massage to help with muscle recovery. He has to lie still for about ten to 30 minutes afterward, so he asked me to lock up when I leave. That’s why he gave me the spare keys. I’m really sorry for the confusion.”

A man smiling | Source: Midjourney

A man smiling | Source: Midjourney

He hesitated before adding, “I know how this looks, but Justin’s been going through a lot. When he lost his job —”

I stared at him, completely dumbfounded. All the sneaking around, all the gaslighting… over personal training? My husband had been fired six months ago and must’ve felt so uneasy about himself. And I didn’t even notice how he’d been depressed and how he’d gained weight.

So that’s why he bought the digital scale. I felt guilty for not noticing how much he’d been struggling, but at the same time, I was upset that he’d kept something so big from me.

A guilty woman | Source: Midjourney

A guilty woman | Source: Midjourney

When I walked into the house ten minutes later, Justin acted completely normal, like nothing had happened. “Hey,” he said casually, slipping his phone into his pocket. “You’re back?! I was just about to jump in the shower.”

I didn’t say a word, just nodded and watched him walk upstairs. My thoughts were racing, but I waited. When he came back downstairs after his shower, I was sitting on the couch, arms crossed, waiting for him.

“So,” I began, arms crossed, “how long have you been hiding Derek from me?”

His face turned pale. “You… met Derek?”

A man gaping in shock | Source: Midjourney

A man gaping in shock | Source: Midjourney

“Yeah, Justin. I met Derek. The guy with a ponytail who’s been sneaking into our house three times a week. Care to explain?”

“Nicole, I can explain everything —”

“Can you?” I interrupted, my voice shaking. “Because Derek already did. About the training sessions.”

The color drained from his face as he sighed, collapsing onto the couch. “I didn’t want you to know,” he admitted. “I’ve been feeling terrible since I lost my job. I gained weight, and I just… I didn’t want you to laugh at me.”

“Laugh at you? Justin, I thought you were CHEATING on me! You lied, gave someone keys to our house, and made me feel like I was crazy!”

“I know,” he said quietly, his head in his hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to go this far.”

A man looking guilty | Source: Midjourney

A man looking guilty | Source: Midjourney

“Do you have any idea what you put me through?” I choked out. “I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I kept imagining the worst possible scenarios!”

“I was ashamed,” he sobbed. “I failed you. Failed our family. I thought if I could just get back in shape, find a new job… maybe I could be worthy of you again.”

I stared at him, my anger softening just a little. “Justin, I’m your wife. You don’t have to hide things from me. But you sure as hell don’t get to gaslight me either.”

The next day, I decided to convey an unforgettable message to Justin.

A frustrated woman | Source: Midjourney

A frustrated woman | Source: Midjourney

The house was packed with friends and family when he got home from his evening walk. Balloons shaped like dumbbells hung from the ceiling, and a giant “Justin’s Fitness Journey” banner stretched across the living room along with his “before and after” photos.

“What… what is this?” he stammered, looking around in horror.

“A party!” I said brightly. “To celebrate your hard work. Since you went to such great lengths to hide it, I thought it deserved some extra attention.”

His face turned red as everyone clapped and cheered.

“Nicole,” he whispered, pulling me aside, “I don’t deserve this. After everything I put you through…”

“You’re right,” I said firmly. “You don’t deserve it. But you know what you do deserve? Support. Love. Understanding. All the things you were too afraid to ask for.”

A man smiling with relief | Source: Midjourney

A man smiling with relief | Source: Midjourney

“I promise,” he said, his voice cracking, “no more secrets. No more lies.”

“Good,” I smiled, squeezing his hand. “Because I already changed the locks.”

As the party continued, I leaned over and whispered, “Next time, just tell me the truth. It’s a lot easier than this.”

He nodded, squeezing my hand back. “Next time,” he promised, “we face everything together.”

A couple holding hands | Source: Unsplash

A couple holding hands | Source: Unsplash

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