Page 50 of Secret Twins for My Ex's SEAL Best Friend

“It’s important,” I managed to say.

“It is,” he agreed. “But I get the sense it’s about more than that for you.”

I didn’t answer right away, my eyes fixed on the steam rising from my cup.

For a while, neither of us spoke. I focused on my breathing, matching it to the steady rhythm of Charlie’s voice as he murmured quiet reassurances.

“You’ve been through this before,” he said eventually. It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah,” I croaked, my throat dry.

Charlie nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “You’re a vet, aren’t you?”

“Navy SEAL,” I said, my voice barely audible.

“Figured as much,” he said. “I was in the Army. ’Nam.”

“Thanks for your service,” I said automatically.

“Same to you.”

We sat in silence for a moment before Charlie spoke again. “It’s hard. The holidays. It’s nice what you’re doing, showing up here, but it’s hard.”

“You’re doing it, too.”

“I am. That’s how I know it’s hard.”

I didn’t say anything in response, just scoffed and looked back out beyond the railing.

Charlie continued, “You know, you don’t have to carry it all by yourself. Letting people in doesn’t make you weak. It makes you stronger.”

I wanted to argue, to tell him he didn’t understand, but the words wouldn’t come. His words hit harder than I wanted to admit. “It’s just not fair. Why did I make it out and they didn’t? Sometimes it feels like no matter how much I do, it’s never enough,” I admitted. “I see these guys in there, veterans who gave everything, and I can’t help feeling like... I got off easy.”

Charlie nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Survivor’s guilt,” he said quietly.

The words hit like a punch to the gut, but I didn’t deny them.

“I’ve been there,” he continued, his expression kind but firm. “Vietnam was hell, and coming back wasn’t any easier. It took me years to realize I didn’t have to carry it all alone.”

I glanced at him, my jaw tightening. I swallowed hard, staring at the ground. “I don’t know how.”

“You start small,” he said. “One step at a time.”

Before I could respond, the door opened, and Corinne stepped outside. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, her eyes wide with concern.

“Dad? Are you okay?”

I forced a smile, though it didn’t feel convincing. “I’m fine, pumpkin. Just needed some air.”

She frowned but didn’t argue.

“Go ahead and grab us some pie,” I added. “I’ll catch up.”

She hesitated, glancing between me and Charlie, before nodding and heading back inside.

Charlie clapped me on the shoulder. “You did good with her. She deserves a healthy dad. You think about what I said.”

I nodded, though I wasn’t sure if I could.

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