I'll bite. I could have seen myself doing something like this before I was put on anti-anxiety and anti-depression medication. The reasoning was I would have invented some kind story in my head that ACTUALLY my husband is going on this trip because he HATES ME. Or maybe he's cheating. Or or or or- and it would have spiraled out from there until I was in tears. It sucked, and I am still sometimes kind of shocked I survived long enough to get treatment.

Not saying that's what happened here of course, but I could empathize.