Christmas Eve started like any other holiday until my husband disappeared without explanation. The next morning, he came home holding a little girl, and with her, a secret that shattered our family.
What happened last Christmas Eve changed me for good. It was hard for a while, but worth it in the end. I was 32 years old at the time. My boys, Ryan and Liam, were 7 and 5 respectively. Our family life was far from perfect, but I always thought my husband, James, and I made it work.
We’ve been married for nine years, and I’d always believed we had a solid foundation. That was, until Christmas Eve last year when everything unraveled.
Most moms will relate when I say that my entire goal has always been to make the holidays magical for my boys, and last year was no different. I spent the entire day preparing so our family could have a fantastic Christmas Eve.
I cooked a great dinner and I made cookies for Santa. I had the best holiday movies listed and their new Christmas pajamas ready.
You see, we had a tradition where the boys got ready for bed after watching some movies, and James would read them a story. It was simple, but it was perfect. Except, something was different.
My husband wasn’t the most engrossed family man in the world, but it was worse last year. He spent most of the day glued to his phone and pacing the kitchen like he was waiting for bad news.
I asked him what was wrong a couple of times, but he just shrugged it off with, “Work stuff.” Annoying, but not completely unusual for James. I figured he’d come around once the kids were ready for their bedtime story.
Around 7 p.m., just as I was plating the ham, he threw on his coat and mumbled, “I forgot something. I’ll be back soon.”
“Back soon?” I asked, standing there with the plate of ham in my hands and an incredulous look on my face. “It’s Christmas Eve, James. The boys are expecting you to be here for movies and your tradition with them.”
“I’ll be quick,” he said, already halfway out the door.
The boys didn’t notice their dad’s absence at first. They were too busy debating whether Santa’s reindeer could fly without wings after watching one particular scene in one of my favorite movies.
Ryan thought it was “special science,” while Liam insisted it was magic. It was one of those moments where you wish time could just freeze because their joy was so pure. It would’ve also been better if their father hadn’t bailed.
But we finished the movies, and I tucked them into bed around 9. They both asked for their Daddy’s story, but I promised he would read to them the next day.
Midnight came and went. No James, and despite my anger, I was starting to get worried. After all, he said he’d be quick. Still, my calls went straight to voicemail, and my texts weren’t even read.
I had to put away the leftover ham, and I cleaned up my already spotless kitchen (I tidied up as I cooked) to stop the anxiety from making me crazier. What if something had happened?
After putting the boys’ Christmas gifts under our tree, I sat on the couch and tried to focus on a random show while waiting. But I didn’t know what I was waiting for, honestly. Perhaps, he would walk in any minute or the police would come by.
I must have dozed off at some point because I woke up to the sound of the front door creaking open. The clock read 6 a.m.
For just a split second, I was relieved to see him alive and well. But then he stood in the doorway, looking like he’d been through a tornado. His coat was wrinkled, his hair a mess, and his eyes bloodshot.
And what made me jump from the couch was… the little girl in his arms.
She couldn’t have been more than three, with tear-streaked cheeks and a doll clutched to her chest. She stared at me for a second before burying her face in James’s shoulder.
My eyes bulged, and my throat closed up. “James,” I whispered brokenly. “Whose child is that?”
He didn’t answer right away. He walked into the living room and set the girl on the couch as if it were perfectly normal.
“Speak to me,” I demanded in a low voice to avoid waking up my kids.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
“Sorry?” I snapped too loudly and winced. “You’ve been gone all night, and you walk in here with a child? Explain. Now.”
His mouth opened, and I swear, I didn’t know what I would do if the word “sorry” came out again. But Ryan and Liam picked that moment to burst into the living room.
“Mommy! Daddy! Can we open our presents?!” they yelled and ran to the tree.
James’ mouth closed, and he avoided my eyes to focus on the boys. “Hey, guys! Merry Christmas! Sure, go open them and let Ellie join you!” he said enthusiastically, pushing the little girl toward the boys.
My jaw dropped when he gave her one of the boxes I’d set under the tree. We usually hid the presents for the boys in our closet until they went to bed and “Santa came.” How hadn’t I noticed that one had no name?
Oh, right! Because I’d been distracted by his absence! Was this all planned?
I was seething with so many questions, but I didn’t have the heart to ruin my sons’ Christmas morning, so I swallowed my rage.
Luckily, the boys didn’t notice anything was wrong, although I could feel Liam’s curious eyes going back and forth between the girl, his dad, and me. Still, I plastered on a fake smile and tried to act like everything was normal.
The little girl pulled out a pink teddy bear from the gift box and got distracted. My sons were also excited with their toys, so I grabbed my husband’s arm and dragged him to the kitchen.
“Start talking,” I said, crossing my arms. “Who is she?”
He sighed, rubbing his face like he was the one having a hard day. “As I said before, her name is Ellie,” he said. “She’s…my daughter.”
“Your what?” I asked, outraged.
“My daughter,” he repeated, quieter this time. “Her mom, Clara, died two days ago. I had no other choice. Clara has a sister, Erin, who couldn’t take the girl in. No one else stepped up, so Ellie’s going to live with us for a while.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry, Norah. But she’s my daughter, and I know it’ll take some time, but I know you’ll love her, too. She looks just like our kids, and she needs a mom now,” James continued, but I wasn’t listening.
The room was spinning. Clara was his ex-girlfriend. They’d dated many years before James and I even met, but I’d barely heard her name. And now, suddenly, she was dead, and he had a daughter? A three-year-old daughter?!
Now, I wasn’t a math genius, but there was no mistake here.
I wanted to scream, to throw something, to make him feel even a fraction of the betrayal coursing through me. I was about to, but the boys came running into the kitchen and asked for breakfast.
So, instead of raging, I pulled myself together for them. The rest of Christmas Day was surreal like I was on autopilot, watching my life unfold from a distance as I smiled and laughed with Ryan and Liam.
James acted like he hadn’t just detonated a bomb in our lives. He played with the boys and tried to get them to include Ellie, but he avoided answering when Liam asked who she was.
The little girl was also shy. She barely spoke, and when she did, it was only to James. She was comfortable with him… meaning, he had been in her life… to some extent, at least.
That night, when the boys were finally asleep, I locked myself in the bathroom and let the tears come. The man I thought I knew was a cheater, and the life I thought we’d built was all a lie.
While I could understand bringing his child here after the death of her mother, I couldn’t fathom his audacity. He thought I would just become a mother to his affair child? That nothing would happen after this revelation?
Another woman, perhaps a better woman, would do it, but not me.
The week between Christmas and New Year’s, I worked on my plan.
I took my boys to stay with my mother for several days while I ran the errands I’d set up: meeting with a lawyer, moving money into a separate account, and researching apartments.
One late afternoon, I got home and heard James in the shower. Ellie was sleeping in our bed, and I didn’t care because this gave me a chance to snoop through James’ phone. I never did that before.
In his phone, plain as day, was all the evidence I needed of his infidelity. My lawyer had asked me to find them. I also saw Erin’s contact number and saved it on my phone.
I went out again for a couple more errands then called Erin from the car. I explained who I was and what I needed to know… to my surprise, Erin was shocked.
Apparently, James hadn’t told anyone he was married with two boys. “He and Clara had such an on-and-off relationship that I just didn’t care about them until Ellie was born,” Erin explained. “But James wasn’t in Ellie’s life much, although that girl loved him.”
“Listen,” I sighed. “I just need to know if it’s true that you couldn’t take the girl in.”
“What? He told you I couldn’t take my Ellie?” Erin asked, even more shocked. “I can’t believe this. He came to my house after missing my sister’s funeral, no less, and made a huge fuss about taking his daughter to keep a bit of Clara’s memory. We didn’t know what to do, and he’s her father, so we let him.”
It looked like my husband had lied to everyone.
“Okay, Erin,” I stopped her rant. “I have a plan.”
***
By New Year’s Day, everything I’d planned had been set into motion. I even lied and started treating Ellie better. So much so that James thought I’d forgiven him and would become the girl’s mother.
He even asked me to watch her while he went out for some last-minute shopping.
That was perfect. I packed up my things and the boys’ belongings. I left my soon-to-be ex-husband a letter on the kitchen counter.
“James,
I won’t let you drag me or our sons down with you. I’m divorcing you and going for full custody. Even Ellie deserves better than you, too. I’m dropping her off at her aunt’s, and I doubt you’ll be able to see her after all your lies. Don’t contact me unless it’s through my lawyer. I hope you enjoy trying to clean up your mess.
Merry Christmas.”
When James came home that night to an empty house, I was long gone. And I’ve never looked back.