On Christmas Eve, My Husband Was Missing — What I Heard When I Called Changed Everything
My Husband Didn’t Show Up on Christmas Eve – When I Called Him, I Heard a Woman’s Voice Say, ‘He Can’t Speak. He’s with His Wife Giving Birth to Their Baby’
Our first family Christmas seemed ideal to me until my spouse failed to return home. My world fell apart when a woman picked up his phone a few hours later. Was there more to the narrative, or was Harold leading a double life?

The scent of Christmas filled the home. The turkey, perfectly cooked and golden brown, lay on the counter.
The stuffing, green beans, and mashed potatoes were prepared. The aroma of cinnamon filled the air as Harold’s favorite apple pie sat on the cooling rack. I looked around and grinned. It was everything perfect.
The red-and-gold placemats that we had chosen together the previous year were used to set the table. I even used the nice cutlery that we had been reserving for special events. Our first Christmas together as a family of three made this one extra meaningful.
I took a quick look in Denise’s room. With every gentle breath, her tiny chest rose and fell as she was cradled in her crib. I muttered, “Merry Christmas, sweet girl,” and brushed a curl away from her forehead.
At 6:00 p.m., the clock indicated. Harold said he would get home early. He had stated, “I’ll be there by five,” as he bid me farewell with a kiss that morning. I wasn’t yet concerned. Most likely, he was stopped in traffic or at work.
Nevertheless, I couldn’t help but notice how preoccupied he had been recently. He had hardly spoken during dinner. I occasionally caught him looking at his phone in an unreadable manner. It was just work-related stress, I assured myself. For weeks, he had been overburdened at work.

I loudly exclaimed, “He’ll be here,” more to myself than to anyone else.
I texted him about 6:30 p.m., saying, “Hey, everything’s ready. I’m eager to see you. Be careful when driving.
No response.
I was checking my phone every two minutes by 7:00 p.m. The food was cooling down. I didn’t want to spend the evening feeding Denise by myself because she would soon wake up.
I gave him a call.
No response.

“Okay,” I whispered. “I’m sure he’s behind the wheel. Perhaps he has his phone in his pocket.
I occupied myself with setting the already flawless table and reheated the green beans. I made an effort to ignore the knot in my gut. I had made three more calls by 7:30 p.m. No response.
“Harold,” I said softly as I paced the kitchen. “Where are you?”
I started thinking about that terrible altercation we had last year. I had only ever questioned him once. On his phone, I discovered a text message from his ex. It was polite enough to make me question, but not flirtatious. He had apologized, given an explanation, and pledged that it would never happen again. I had also trusted him.
Now my mind was racing. Back then, was he lying? Was there another thing happening?
I gave him another call at 8:00 p.m. Nothing has changed.
My hands were shaking by the tenth call. I was thinking about the worst-case possibilities. What would happen if he had an accident? What if he was never going home?
Finally, on the sixteenth attempt, someone answered.
“Hello?” My voice cracked as I spoke.

A woman’s cool, matter-of-fact voice responded. He is unable to speak at this time. He is in the delivery room with his wife. She is giving birth to their child.
I thought I misheard her for a moment.
Saying “I’m sorry,” “What?”
She said, “He’s with his wife,” once more. “She is giving birth. He is assisting her in getting through it.
The line died.
My phone fell to the ground after slipping out of my grasp. My mind was racing, and my legs felt like they may give out.
His spouse? Their child?
What was she discussing?

I was having trouble breathing. I had a constricted chest. I stumbled onto the couch in the living room. Tears clouded my eyes and the lights on the tree became blurry.
Was this an error of some sort? A cruel joke? Or was it the reality?
I wished for the phone to ring again as I gazed at it on the floor. In my ears, my heart thumped.
I was unsure about what to believe.
In the faint light from the little bulb on the bureau, I sat in Denise’s chamber and rocked her. the little hand curled around the edge of the blanket as she awoke in her sleep.
Whispering, “I’m sorry, baby,” I wiped a tear from my cheek. “This isn’t how tonight was supposed to be.”
I felt a crushing weight in my chest. Our first family Christmas Eve was wrecked. Harold had disappeared, and I had no idea why. When I saw Denise’s serene face, my heart ached. I felt as though I was failing her by allowing my hurt and terror to rule my actions.

After giving her a forehead kiss, I put her back in the crib. I said, “I’ll figure this out,” but I wasn’t sure if I believed it.
There was an intolerable silence back in the living room. The TV was on for background noise, but I was unable to concentrate on the picture. I kept replaying the call in my head. “He’s with his wife, helping her through childbirth.”
His spouse.
I gazed at the timepiece. After midnight, there was still no word. The table’s food was long since cold. I circled the house, Harold’s memories permeating every nook and cranny.
I recalled our first Christmas together, when we were living alone in a little apartment. We had laughed all night decorating the cheap plastic tree and string of lights he had surprised me with.
How did we get to this point from there?

I was exhausted by 4:00 a.m., yet I was unable to fall asleep. On the sofa table, my phone was silent. Every time I looked at it, I experienced a new wave of pain and rage.
I had finished my imagination. I required clarification.
The door creaked open at seven in the morning. With my heart racing, I sat up.
Harold entered, his coat crumpled and his hair disheveled. He appeared to have gone days without sleep.
He began, “Kelly,” but I interrupted him.
I scolded, “Don’t,” and stood up. “Avoid ‘Kellying’ me. You were where? What did I experience last night, do you know? For Denise?
He put his suitcase down beside the door and his face sank. “I apologize. I didn’t—”
“You didn’t what?” I cut you off. Even though my voice trembled, I couldn’t stop. “You didn’t consider? Did you not give a damn? Harold, I phoned you fifteen times! And when someone did respond, it was a woman who informed me that you were with your wife and her child.
Harold’s gaze expanded. “What? “Who said that?”
I raised my hands. “I suppose a nurse! You were in the birth room with your wife, she stated when she answered your phone. What am I meant to believe?
With a sigh, he brushed his hands over his face. “I can explain, Kelly. Just let me explain, please.
I scowled at him while crossing my arms. “Go ahead.”

He inhaled deeply. “Last night, Caroline had birth. The weather prevented Jake from reaching the hospital. I couldn’t say no when she called me in a panic. She is, after all, my sister.
Startled, I blinked. “What?”
“Yes. Caroline.” He combed his hair with his hand. You are aware of our closeness ever since Mom’s death. I assured her that I would always be there for her. I assumed I would simply wait for Jake to arrive when she called. However, she needed me once things became tricky and her blood pressure rose while the baby’s heart beat decreased.
Although I could feel my fury waning, I wasn’t prepared to let it go. “Why didn’t you give me a call? Why didn’t you explain the situation to me?
Softly, “I thought I’d be home before you even noticed,” he began. But I was unable to leave as things worsened. Then I noticed you calling. Guilt weighed heavily on his cheeks as he gazed down. “I went into a panic. I chose to disregard it since I was unsure of how to explain without making you angry. I ought not to have. I apologize.
I gazed at him with a mixture of relief and annoyance in my heart. “Can you imagine my level of fear? Harold, I believed you were unfaithful to me. I assumed you wouldn’t return.
He jerked his head up. “No! No, Kelly. I would never—”
I interrupted him by raising a hand. “I need time to process this.”
His voice was no more than a whisper as he nodded. “I understand.”

The darkness still hung between us as we stood in stillness.
I reflected on all that had transpired as the day went on. Even though Harold’s explanation made logic, the hurt persisted. I was unable to forget the sound of that woman’s voice on the phone, the terror, or the restless night.
However, the fury subsided when I turned to face Harold, who was seated across the room holding Denise. He had a tired look and regret in his eyes. He wasn’t flawless, but we were all flawed.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated in a quiet voice. “I never intended to cause you harm. I simply went into a panic. I ought to have considered you and Denise as well, but I was attempting to be there for Caroline. I’m responsible for that.
My chest began to relax as I nodded. “I am aware that you were attempting to act morally. I simply I need us to talk more effectively. I can’t experience that kind of night again.”
“We will,” he stated steadily. “I promise.”

Later, while holding Denise, I observed Harold repairing the tree’s lights. It had been an untidy, difficult, and flawed night. However, I discovered that true love was not flawless as I planted a kiss on Denise’s small forehead. It was forgiveness, understanding, and the decision to move on.
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