Honeymoon From Hell: Who Knocked Her Up?

I stood on the road shoulder of the coastal highway with my phone to my ear.

"Please pick me up, Mr. Kendrick. I'll send you my location," I said calmly.

Hugh Kendrick was my family's longtime driver. He'd been driving me to and from school since I was 12 years old. I'd known him for longer than I'd known my husband, Shawn Joule.

Mr. Kendrick was momentarily stunned. "Aren't you on a honeymoon with Mr. Joule, Ms. Shea?"

"There's been a change in plans. Sorry for the trouble."

I hung up and tucked my phone back into my pocket.

The sea breeze tugged back the hem of my skirt.

Over by the railing, my husband, Shawn, and my best friend, Chester Simmon, had stopped fighting.

The two of them sat on the ground with their collars askew. There was blood at the corner of Shawn's mouth, and Chester had a bruise around his brow bone.

When they saw me on the phone, they stood up almost in unison.

Shawn walked over to me first and reached out to tug on my arm.

"Jasmine," he began.

I took a step back.

His hand hovered in midair, then slowly pulled back.

"Please hear me out," he pleaded.

Chester walked over from the other side and got between me and Shawn. "Calm down, Jasmine. This situation—"

"Has nothing to do with me," I finished for him.

I looked between him and Chester. "Whatever's going on between you two and Yvette, handle it yourselves."

Shawn frowned. "What do you mean it has nothing to do with you? You're my wife."

I pointed in the RV's direction. "Then, deal with her situation first. She's pregnant, and nobody even knows who fathered the child. She's crying alone in the car, yet you two are out here fighting."

As soon as the words left my mouth, both Shawn and Chester glanced toward the RV.

The sound of my best friend, Yvette Sorrell, crying could be heard intermittently through the car door. She sounded like a wounded cat.

Shawn hesitated for two seconds before turning to look at me.

"Don't leave yet. Wait for me to come back," he said.

Chester added, "Wait here a moment, Jasmine. I have something to say to you."

Then, the two of them got into the RV one after the other.

I stood where I was, watching the RV door close.

The strong sea breeze made a mess of my hair. My phone vibrated, alerting me to a message from Mr. Kendrick. "I've set off and should arrive in two hours."

Two hours.

I leaned against the guardrail, the highway stretching before me and the sea at my back. The sun was about to set, so the sea was stained a dark red color that made it look scorched.

The RV door opened again, and Shawn walked out with his phone in hand. He stood in front of me and said, "I told Mr. Kendrick not to come."

His tone wasn't harsh. On the contrary, he sounded like he wanted to negotiate.

Yet, I felt like he'd just thrown a bucket of cold water at me.

"What did you say?" I asked.

"Mr. Kendrick is the Shea family driver. If you specifically request for him to pick you up, your parents will ask questions," he reasoned.

He held up his phone to show me the most recent number in his call log—Mr. Kendrick's.

"I'll handle this matter appropriately, so come back with us first. We can discuss this further once we're at the hotel," he continued.

I stared at the call log for three whole seconds.

"What right do you have to cancel on my behalf?" I asked.

"I'm doing it for your own good, Jasmine," he replied gently, as if he were consoling a child.

I almost believed him, but I could see Yvette's face plastered to the glass window of the RV. She was looking in my direction with red and puffy eyes. Chester, who was sitting beside her, was handing her a tissue.

I looked away from her and asked, "On our wedding night, where did you go after putting me to sleep?"

Shawn stiffened, not out of panic but due to the realization that he'd been found out.

He gaped for quite a while before finally asking, "How did you know?"

"I didn't," I replied. "I was just making a guess, but now I'm certain."

He swallowed, then lowered his voice and explained, "It was an accident. After you fell asleep that day, I went to the balcony to sober up, and Yvette came looking for you to ask for something. The room was dark, and I'd had a lot to drink…"

"Are you trying to say that you mistook her for me?"

He said nothing, but his silence in itself was the answer.

Just then, Chester stepped out of the car and stood three paces away from us. He looked even more awkward than Shawn.

He began, "Jasmine, I also—"

I cut him off, "Was it also an 'accident' in your case?"

He bit his lip. "On the night before you married Shawn, I was feeling very upset… I drank a lot. Yvette came looking for me. She told me it was because she was afraid I'd do something rash."

His voice was very faint, as if speaking any louder would shatter something fragile.

"I knew your heart was no longer mine to pursue, which made me incredibly upset. Yvette kept me company the entire time, after which…"

"After which you had an 'accident' with her," I finished for him.

Two men I knew had gotten it on with the same woman on two different nights—the night of my wedding and the eve of my wedding.

How coincidental.

I heard the sound of the RV door opening and closing behind me. Yvette stepped out of the RV with tears still clinging to her face, steadying herself against the doorframe.

She made a beeline over to me and kneeled down. "I'm sorry, Jasmine. I'm sorry."

She kneeled so quickly that her knees struck the asphalt with a dull thud.

I looked down at her.

Shawn immediately stepped forward to help her up. "The ground is cold, and you're pregnant, so don't kneel."

Chester reached out to tug on her other arm. "Get up, Yvette. It's our fault, not yours."

Shawn and Chester flanked her on both sides.

As they helped Yvette up, she looked up to meet my eyes.

I made out several things in that one glance—tears, fear, a plea of forgiveness, and a trace of something I couldn't quite figure out.

The sea breeze picked up again.

I stood across from Shawn, Chester, and Yvette like a spectator watching the actors of a play.

Shawn turned back to me and said in a low voice, "Get in the car, Jasmine. We'll discuss further after we get to the hotel. Yvette isn't feeling well and shouldn't be standing out here in the wind."

I shot him a look before getting into the car.