forehead and laid her back in the crib. “I’ll figure this out,” I said, though I wasn’t sure I believed it.
Back in the living room, the silence was unbearable. I turned on the TV for background noise but couldn’t focus on the screen. My mind replayed the call over and over. “He’s with his wife, helping her through childbirth.”
His wife.
I stared at the clock. Midnight came and went, and still no word. The food on the table had long gone cold. I walked in circles around the house, memories of Harold filling every corner.
I thought of the first Christmas we’d spent together, just the two of us in a tiny apartment. He’d surprised me with a string of lights and a cheap plastic tree, and we’d laughed all night decorating it.
How had we gone from that to this?
By 4:00 a.m., exhaustion pulled me to the couch, though sleep wouldn’t come. My phone sat silent on the coffee table. I felt a fresh wave of anger and pain every time I looked at it.
I was done imagining. I needed answers.
At 7:00 a.m., the door creaked open. I sat up, my heart pounding.
Harold stepped inside, his hair a mess, his coat wrinkled. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.
“Kelly,” he started, but I cut him off.
“Don’t,” I snapped, getting to my feet. “Don’t ‘Kelly’ me. Where were you? Do you have any idea what last night was like for me? For Denise?”
His face fell, and he set his bag down by the door. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—”
“You didn’t what?” I interrupted. My voice shook, but I couldn’t stop. “You didn’t think? You didn’t care? I called you fifteen times, Harold! And when someone finally answered, it was some woman telling me you were with your wife and her baby!”
Harold’s eyes widened. “What? Who said that?”
I threw my hands up. “A nurse, I guess! She answered your phone and said you were in the delivery room with your wife. What am I supposed to think?!”
He rubbed his hands over his face and sighed. “Kelly, I can explain. Just… please, let me explain.”
I crossed my arms and glared at him. “Go ahead.”
He took a deep breath. “Caroline went into labor last night. Jake couldn’t get to the hospital because of the snowstorm. She called me in a panic, and I couldn’t say no. She’s my sister after all.”
I blinked, stunned. “What?”
“Yes. Caroline.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You know how close we’ve been since Mom passed. I promised her I’d be there for her no matter what. When she called, I thought I’d just stay until Jake arrived. But things got complicated — her blood pressure spiked, the baby’s heart rate dropped — and she needed me.”
I felt my anger waver but wasn’t ready to let it go. “Why didn’t you call me? Why didn’t you tell me what was going on?”
“I thought I’d be home before you even noticed,” he said softly. “But when it got worse, I couldn’t leave. And then when I saw you calling…” He looked down, guilt heavy on his face. “I panicked. I didn’t know how to explain without upsetting you, so I ignored it. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”
I stared at him, my heart a mix of relief and frustration. “Do you have any idea how terrified I was? I thought you were cheating on me, Harold. I thought you weren’t coming back.”
His head snapped up. “No! Kelly, no. I would never—”
I held up a hand, cutting him off. “I need time to process this.”
He nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. “I understand.”
We stood in silence, the weight of the night still hanging between us.
As the day wore on, I thought about everything that had happened. Harold’s explanation made sense, but the hurt lingered. I couldn’t forget the fear, the sleepless night, or the sound of that woman’s voice on the phone.
But as I looked at Harold, sitting across the room with Denise in his arms, I felt the anger fading. His face was weary, his eyes filled with regret. He wasn’t perfect, but then, none of us were.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice soft. “I never wanted to hurt you. I just panicked. I was trying to be there for Caroline, but I should’ve thought about you and Denise, too. That’s on me.”
I nodded, the tension in my chest easing. “I know you were trying to do the right thing. I just… I need us to communicate better. I can’t go through a night like that again.”
“We will,” he said, his voice steady. “I promise.”
Later, as I cradled Denise, I watched Harold fix the lights on the tree. The night had been messy, painful, and imperfect. But as I kissed Denise’s tiny forehead, I realized real love wasn’t perfect. It was understanding, forgiveness, and the choice to keep going.
