On Christmas Eve, my husband didn’t arrive, and when I called him, I heard a woman’s voice saying, “He can’t talk. He’s with his wife, giving birth to their baby.”

“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.”