Page 46 of Secret Twins for My Ex's SEAL Best Friend

Strangely, one of the first thoughts that came to me was that I had no idea how I was going to tell Jeremy. Jeremy wasn’t my boyfriend. I owed him nothing, obviously, but I knew he was going to be heartbroken by my getting pregnant by his best friend.

He’d understand. It had happened by accident. Neither of us had planned it. I hadn’t even planned on getting in his car that night. It had just happened.God, I sound like a cliché.

I felt dizzy, and I clamped my fingers around the counter. This was going to ruin their friendship, and it was all my fault. There was no way he’d forgive Robert for this.

And Robert…did he even want to see me ever again? He’d seemed perfectly happy to get me out of his house that night after… what we’d done. It had felt so good, and then suddenly, it was over.

I wasn’t even sure that Ishouldtell Robert. Maybe he didn’t want to see me. He already had a child, and his life seemed complicated. Maybe I shouldn’t tell him and risk complicating it anymore. Maybe he wouldn’t want to be a father again. Maybe he wouldn’t want to do it if it meant doing it withme.

I wrapped my arms around myself and resolved to keep it a secret from Robert for now. I didn’t know enough about what I even wanted from him to tell him. It would just complicate things further. I needed to figure out howIfelt first.

Still gripping the counter with one hand, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed Kassandra. She answered on the first ring, excitedly, bubbly, nothing like how I felt, and exclaimed, “Hey! Are you ready for Thanksgiving?”

My mouth felt dry. I couldn’t even begin to figure out how to answer that. I had been ready for Thanksgiving just an hour ago, and all of a sudden, it was the furthest thing from my mind.

Yet, I still had to think about it. I still had to start my turkey and let it marinate until the next day, when I would have to let it cook low and slow overnight until finally my family came.

I wasn’t much of a fan of Thanksgiving or any holiday. It was a reminder of what I was missing in the way of family. My father didn’t come around, my brother lived a state away, and my mother wasn’t that healed of a person.

I knew I had gotten into working with veterans because of my dad, but sometimes I felt like maybe I had gotten into therapy in general because of how unhealed my mother was. She looked for attention and love in all the wrong places. I wasn’t a big priority for her, even though I felt like I could give her the love she craved.

It was hard to sit around a table and eat dry turkey on a day of gratitude with my mother, who mostly made me unsure of myself, among the guests.

“Hello? Delia, can you hear me?” Kassandra asked, and I realized that I had been sitting in silence on the other end.

I shook my head and snapped back into reality, saying, “Sorry. No, I’m not ready. Actually, would you want to come over and help me? I need to start the turkey marinade.”

“Do you mean brine?”

“I guess. I don’t know. See, I need you!”

“Okay, okay. I’ll be over in fifteen then, just hold tight,” Kassandra laughed her tinkling laugh, and for a second, it calmed me down to know that even if everything wasn’t normal with me, at least Kassandra hadn’t changed.

It was a strange thought – of course Kassandra hadn’t changed – but I was feeling a sense of dread as I stared at the pregnancy tests, and they stared back.

I waited in obscurity for Kassandra to arrive. It was almost like I wasn’t there. That’s how I felt as I got the ingredients for the turkey ‘brine’ together – the salt, the brown sugar, the Worcestershire sauce, the garlic, and the pepper. I laid it all out on the counter along with the defrosted turkey.

It was strangely ritualistic, the things I’d need to make this turkey taste good right next to it. The only way it could feel stranger would be if the turkey were actively gobbling.

Kassandra got to my place within the hour, although nowhere near the fifteen minutes like she’d said. She was always ‘stylishly late,’ though I had a suspicion it wasn’t all that intentional. She was routinely late for work as well.

She came with a container of salt and a hug. It was just what I needed. She shook her brown curls around her and said, “Jeez, you look like crap. Have you been up all day or what?”

I laughed a little, even though it stung coming from her. She never meant it that way. She was blunt, but I knew she lovedme. “I feel like crap,” I said honestly, taking the container of salt from her. “You thought I didn’t have salt?”

“I thought you might not haveenoughsalt. Brine is pretty salty.” Kassandra surveyed my ingredients, and I felt my secret dying to get out, beating at my chest like a captured animal.

Just as she pointed to the Worcestershire sauce and said, “Well, actually, this stuff is pretty salty, so you might have—” I blurted out, “Kassie, I’m pregnant.”

Her finger midair, she shut her mouth instantly. I could see all the muscles in her top half stiffen.

I stood next to her, my hands in my hair, unsure where to go with the conversation from there. She turned slightly, her eyebrows all the way up in her hairline, and her pointed finger turned into an open, upward palm. “What did you say? I think I misheard you.”

“No, you heard me right,” I sighed, and sat down at my dining table. I pulled my feet up onto the chair and set my chin against my knees. “I’m pregnant.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, her voice strained as she walked over to me.

I stood up quickly and grabbed her hand. “Do you want to see how sure I am?” I walked her to the bathroom with purpose.

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