During the birth of our first child, my wife gave me a phone number and asked me to call the man. I thought something was wrong, but I never imagined what was about to happen. Wife: “Please, take my phone and call this number. I want him to be here.” Me: “Who is he?” Wife: “Just call him, please. I'll explain everything later.” I called the number. Man: “Hello?” Me: “Hello, my name is her husband. She asked me to call you.” There was a brief silence. Man: “Has she given birth yet?” I froze. Me: “What are you talking about? Why are you asking me that?” Man: “I'm coming. Please stay there.” He ended the call before I could ask another question. I stood outside the delivery room, wondering why a stranger sounded so concerned about my wife's childbirth. About thirty minutes later, the man arrived. The moment he saw my wife lying on the hospital bed, he rushed toward her and hugged her. Man: “Baby, are you okay? Why didn't you call me earlier?” My wife held him tightly. I stood there, completely confused. Me: “Excuse me. What exactly is going on here?” Neither of them answered me immediately. Then one of the nurses approached me. Nurse: “Sir, could you please wait outside for a moment? The father needs some time with the mother.” I stared at her. Me: “The father? I'm her husband!” The nurse looked uncomfortable. Nurse: “I'm sorry, sir, but we need you to step outside.” I looked at my wife, expecting her to explain. Instead, she looked away. The man sat beside her, holding her hand as if he belonged there. I walked out, shaking with anger. A few minutes later, I heard another nurse say to him, “The baby's father can come in now.” I couldn't believe what I was hearing.