“Probably,” I admit, grinning. “Get used to it.”
She laughs, and I kiss her again, letting the comfortable silence stretch out between us.
By the time we’re dressed and heading to church, I can tell Megan’s stomach is still bothering her. She’s quieter than usual, her hand resting on her belly like she’s trying to settle it.
I keep asking, keep worrying if she’s okay or not.
I put my hand on the small of her back as we walk in. The lobby’s full and bustling. Greetings, kids running around before the service starts, the smell of coffee swimming in the air.
We sit in our spot beside my family, now in two pews, kids spread out and intertwined, fighting over who gets to sit with Grandma and Grandpa.
Lunch at the big house is chaos, as usual—loud, messy, everyone talking over each other at once. Plates clatter, kids squirm in their chairs, and Megan’s barely touching her food,just pushing it around her plate. My leg’s bouncing under the table like it has a mind of its own.
When my hand finally finds hers, she squeezes back and looks up at me with that ready, knowing look. The one that saysgo.
I clear my throat—but no one hears me.
“So,” I start, a little louder this time, and somehow the room settles just enough for every set of eyes to land on me. “Megan fainted at school on Friday.”
Mom’s eyes widen immediately. “Oh my.”
“Are you okay?” Addison asks, leaning forward.
Megan nods, and I catch Ella’s eyes across the table. She’s not looking at Megan, just smiling softly to herself. I know she knows. She had to have followed up with the other nurse. And still, I appreciate the way she plays along like this is all brand-new information.
“Yeah,” Megan says, a little breathless. “I’m actually thrilled.”
“Thrilled?” Dad repeats, clearly confused.
“Yeah,” I cut in before he can ask more. “Because I don’t know how long it would’ve taken us to figure out she was pregnant otherwise.”
The collective gasp that follows is dramatic and hilarious all at once.
“Shut up!” Addison blurts, already halfway out of her chair.
Megan nods, tears spilling instantly, and then it’s over—the table erupts. Chairs scrape. Voices overlap. Someone cheers. Someone claps.
“When are you due?” Addison asks, bouncing in place.
“Early March,” Megan says, wiping at her cheeks.
“Our babies are gonna be so close!” Addison squeals.
I glance down the table at Karissa. She’s smiling—reallysmiling. Not forced. Not tight. Just happy. And something in my chest loosens when I see it.
Everyone comes at us at once—hugs, back slaps, congratulations shouted from every direction. My brothers smack my back like I just won something. Eventually, people sit back down, attempting to collect themselves.
Megan’s looking at me now, smirking like she can’t believe I’m dragging this out. She nudges me under the table—say it already.
“Oh,” I add casually, once the noise dips again. “And we completely forgot to mention…it’s twins.”
Silence.
Then absolute chaos.
Mom gasps, both hands flying to her face. Cody chokes on his water. Addison screeches so loud a couple of the kids jump. Hallie starts crying—Ella’s the only one who notices.
Jesse just stares at us. “You’re kidding.”
