Destined to Love (Starting Over Trilogy Book 3)

by Brenda Kennedy

  Mason sits beside me on the couch. He takes my hand in his and says, “Angel, look at me.”

  I look up at him.

  “I would like to get you an accurate pregnancy test; that requires me to draw some blood and send it out to be tested. I want to be positive so we know what our future holds for us.”

  I just sit there. I hear him, but I don’t say anything. There is hope that I may not be pregnant, pregnant with Jim’s baby.

  When I look at him, he asks, “Would you be willing to take another pregnancy test? I’ll send your blood out with an alias listed on it, so no one will know it’s you.”

  “You think maybe those tests were wrong?”

  “I don’t know,” he says, stroking my knuckle with his thumb. “I just want to be 100 percent positive so we know what to expect.”

  “Of course, I will. Whatever it takes to know, I’ll do it.”

  “That’s my girl,” Mason smiles. “Let’s eat first, then I’ll get a blood sample from you.”

  Mason

  I walk Angel out to her car and open her door for her.

  “It will take a day or two until we get the results back. There’s no need to worry or stress about this until we know the results.”

  “I know, but it’s just so hard.”

  “Beauty,” I say, cupping her cheeks with my hands. “Don’t worry about this, we can’t change anything by worrying about it, and we’ll deal with the news when we get it.”

  Angel takes a deep breath and leans her cheek into my hand before closing her eyes.

  I kiss her forehead and leave my mouth there, “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “I’ll meet you at home tonight; buckle up and drive safely. We’ll talk more about this then.”

  “Ok, have a good day at work,” she says as she climbs into her SUV.

  I watch as Angel pulls out of the parking lot before I run my hands through my hair. This is going to be a stressful couple days. I don’t want her to worry so I’ll do what I need to do to plaster a believable smile to my face.

  I head inside and ask Carla to call the lab company to pick up the stat lab draws. I know it’s early, but I want them sent out as soon as possible. Usually they pick up the labs at the end of the day, but I don’t want to wait any longer than I have to.

  Carla doesn’t ask me any questions, and I wouldn’t expect her to. She is an excellent office manager. She calls the lab for an early pick-up, and I return to my office to get ready to see more patients.

  I arrive at home and am surprised to see Angel is already there. I walk into the house and the aroma of Italian food hits me immediately. Chicken Parmesan and pasta. Angel has her back to me as she stands at the stove. She is still so easily startled; I clear my throat before walking further into the kitchen.

  “It smells delicious in here,” I say, walking up behind her and wrapping my arms around her.

  “Thank you. I thought I would make your favorite … well, one of your favorite meals.”

  “That was thoughtful. What’s the special occasion?” I ask, wrapping my arm around her and kissing the top of her head.

  “Just because I think you are wonderful and the best thing that has ever happened to me.” She turns around and steps away from the stove, before standing on her tiptoes to kiss me.

  I lift her up off the floor and she squeals. I laugh. “Well, I think you are pretty amazing yourself,” I say, kissing her back.

  I set her down gently until her feet are on the ground. “Do I have time to shower first?”

  “You have about 20 minutes.”

  “Perfect.”

  “Do you want to eat in here or outside tonight?”

  I look outside and see that the tide is going out. “How about we eat outside, then we can walk on the beach and look for sea treasures, since it’s low tide?” Angel calls seashells, sea rocks, sharks’ teeth, and sand dollars, sea treasures. Well, anything that comes from the ocean is considered a sea treasure when it comes to Angel.

  “Oh, that sounds great. I have a glass vase that needs to be filled up with seashells,” she says, excitedly.

  “All right, just give me 20 minutes and I’ll be ready to eat,” I say, walking into the master bedroom.

  After dinner I help Angel clear the table and help her clean up the kitchen. Once everything is put away and cleaned up, Angel grabs two Baggies from the drawer and hands one to me.

  “Here, this is for your sea treasures.”

  “Thank you,” I say, taking the Baggie from her.

  I take her hand in mine and we walk on the beach. Angel picks up seashells and rocks and puts them in her Baggie. I find a few sharks’ teeth and place them in my Baggie.

  “You’re good at finding sharks’ teeth. I have never been able to find one on my own.”

  “It’s because you don’t know what to look for.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I stop near a pile of seashells and let go of Angel’s hand.

  “What do you see?” I ask, while looking down at the pile of shells.

  Angel looks down at the pile of seashells and frowns. “I see some broken seashells.”

  “Yes, but what else do you see?”

  She looks at the pile again with furrowed brows.

  “Beauty, look beyond the broken shells.”

  Angel looks at the seashells and kicks a few shells around with her feet. She smiles and bends down to pick something up. She stands and holds two sharks’ teeth in her hands.

  “Look,” she smiles, “I found some.”

  “Very good, now you know what to look for.” I take her hand and we turn back towards the beach house.

  “Thank you, Mason.”

  I smile and say, “You’re welcome, Beauty.”

  “Hey, I was thinking that we should go to church on Sunday,” Angel says, while looking up at me.

  “I think that is a great idea,” I say, looking down at her.

  “You do?”

  “I do. Do you have a church that you go to?”

  “No.” She frowns.

  “We could find one together or we could go to the church that I went to as a child. Mom and Dad still go there. It’s not a Catholic Church, though.”

  “Sounds perfect. God is God, and I don’t believe it matters what church or building you’re in to worship him.”

  “Angel, that is very touching,” I say, swinging her arm. “I believe the same thing. God is God no matter where we are, or what religion we are.”

  “Good, we have a date.”

  “What?” I ask.

  “A date, we have a date for church on Sunday,” she says, smiling.

  “Yes, Beauty, we do.”

  We walk the rest of the way home talking about her pregnancy test results. We decide that when they come in, I’ll have them placed in a sealed envelope and we will find out the results together, at home. I omit telling her I put a stat order on them and we will have the results tomorrow. We’ll deal with the news of the pregnancy tomorrow.

  I drop Angel off at work this morning and tell her I’ll pick her up at 5:00. I go in to work and tell Carla that when the results come in for Mrs. Ana Rose to place the report in an envelope and leave it on my desk, in my office, for me. I decided on that name, Ana Rose, after Angel’s mother and aunt. I make a conscious effort to avoid my office throughout the day. I don’t want to see the envelope and I don’t want to know when the results arrive. I call Angel at lunchtime and ask her whether she wants to order takeout for dinner. Angel is so easy to please. It doesn’t matter to her what we do or where we go. She is just as happy to stay at home as she is to go out. Sometimes I think she prefers just staying in.

  At the end of the day, I walk into my office and see an envelope lying on my desk. I pick it up and look at it. It is marked “Mrs. Ana Rose.” I place the envelope in my pocket and take my keys from inside my desk drawer. I call in an order for dinner at Fast and Fresh Deli before leaving to pick up Angel.
/>
  During the drive home, she tells me about the new updates on Brea and Vincent’s wedding. They have the caterer lined up and the wedding party has all accepted. They also have the venue and the bakery secured. She talks excitedly about the wedding shower she and Sara are planning for Brea.

  Brea and Vincent’s wedding is just over three months away and the baby is due in less than three months. Not great planning to have the wedding so soon after the arrival of their baby, but Vincent said he is already on his honeymoon. Lucky bastard. Must be nice to know what direction your life is going and who will be in it. I am happy for him, but sometimes I feel envious of his good fortune in finding happiness with Brea.

  Angel and I arrive home, and I shower before dinner. After working all day and seeing patients with different types of illnesses, I don’t want to take a chance of bringing something home to Angel.

  After dinner I take a deep breath and tell Angel her results came back. I see her face fall. I remove the envelope from my back pocket and hold it out for her. She looks at me — her eyes are filling up with tears.

  “I’m scared of what’s in there,” she says, not reaching for the envelope.

  “Angel, there’s nothing to be scared of. Either you’ll have the same result when you took the test, or you won’t. If the results are different, then you can put all this behind you.”

  “But, what if they aren’t different? What if I am really pregnant with Jim’s baby? Then what … then what will happen with me, with us?” Angel begins to cry.

  “Angel, don’t cry,” I say, pulling her into me. I hold her tightly and stroke her long curly hair. She returns the hug and lays her head on my shoulder. She smells like peaches and cinnamon. I inhale her and she laughs.

  “Why are you laughing?” I ask, moving my mouth side to side on top of her head. Her hair is so soft against my lips.

  “Because you always smell me.”

  “It’s because you always smell so good.”

  Angel leans back with tears in her eyes and takes a deep breath.

  “Ok, I’m ready. Will you open it?”

  Angel

  My lips begin to quiver as Mason starts to open the envelope holding the results of my pregnancy test. I know when I told him I was pregnant that he didn’t handle it very well. He had proposed to me on my birthday, then I told him I was pregnant. I think he was in shock; he started ordering shots — not just shots, but double shots. He got drunk faster than I have ever seen anyone get drunk. I know if the results are still positive, he won’t be able to handle it again.

  “Wait!” I say, before he opens the folded paper in his hand.

  “What is it?” Mason asks, startled.

  I stand up and go to the bar. I get the bottle of Scotch and set it on the coffee table in front of him. He looks up at me with a raised brow.

  “Just in case,” I say, sitting back down beside Mason.

  “Angel has jokes.”

  “No, no jokes. I just want to be prepared,” I say, sitting back down beside Mason.

  “Ready?”

  “Ready,” I say, holding my hands to my stomach. I feel like I’m going to get sick.

  “I love you,” he says, smiling.

  “I love you, too,” I smile back.

  Mason opens the folded paper and we both look at it. My heart falls into my stomach. I look up at Mason and he is expressionless. He is still looking at the results. It must be a talent all doctors have, or maybe they have to take a class to be able to look expressionless while giving bad news.

  Mason looks over at me with a sad smile. He puts the paper on the table next to the bottle of Scotch and looks over at me again. He places his hands on my cheeks and wipes my tears away.

  “This doesn’t change anything.”

  I lean my face into his hand and close my eyes. “Mason, I’m pregnant. This changes everything.”

  “Angel, this doesn’t change anything with us. I love you.”

  I stand up to put some distance between Mason and me. I need to talk seriously to him, and being so close to him makes that difficult to do sometimes.

  “Mason, this isn’t fair. This isn’t fair for you. You didn’t ask for any of this.”

  “Angel?” Mason starts to stand.

  I hold my hand out to stop him. “No, please let me finish.”

  “All right.” He sits back down and puts one arm over the back of the couch and rests his other arm on the arm of the couch.

  “Mason, this isn’t fair to you. We haven’t even made love yet and now I’m pregnant. What will we tell people, tell our friends and family?” I pace back and forth without looking at Mason. I don’t want to look into his eyes. I don’t want to see his pain. “This could ruin your reputation. People will think you got your girlfriend pregnant. They’ll think you’re careless and irresponsible.” I look over at him, “Do you know what this could do to your medical practice? People won’t want to go to see a doctor who is careless and reckless.”

  “Angel…”

  “Mason, I’m not done,” I say, “I have issues with this.” I sit across from him and lean forward so I am not slouched into the chair. Mason imitates my pose on the couch that he is sitting on. I begin to cry. “Mason, I’m not even sure I can love this baby. This baby’s father is a rapist and he tried to kill me. How will I be able to love this child? What if every time I look at it, I see Jim? Mason, what if I’m unable to love this baby?”

  I hold my stomach and run into the restroom. I know this isn’t morning sickness although I couldn’t keep my dinner down. This is me coming to terms with reality. I have had thoughts about not being able to love this baby many times, but I have never spoken the words aloud. Mason probably thinks I am some terrible person for thinking them. There is no way he will be able to relate to my confusion. I look in the mirror and I hardly recognize the person looking back at me. I am disgusted by the person I have become. I splash cold water on my face and head out into the living room, where I left Mason sitting on the couch with a bottle of Scotch in front of him.

  Mason isn’t in the room and I look at the bottle of Scotch, thinking it should be empty by now. The bottle sits on the coffee table untouched. He didn’t turn to alcohol this time. He must be accepting this better than I am.

  I look outside and Mason is standing on the lanai watching me. I stand there and I just look at him. He is leaning against the railing, looking handsome. He is wearing a pair of plaid shorts and a white linen shirt. His hair is curly and unruly; his eyes are dark and unreadable. He smiles and pushes off from the railing. He walks slowly into the house and stands in front of me. Mason touches my cheeks with his hands and kisses me tenderly. I kiss him back.

  “Angel, sit down,” he says, once our kiss ends, and I do. I always do what Mason tells me to do. I know he would never do anything that would hurt me. Once I am seated, I look up and Mason smiles down at me.

  Mason kneels down in front of me and takes my left hand in his. My belly does somersaults.

  “You are so beautiful,” he says, while stroking my fingers. “Angel, I love you and I want to be with you. The news we received today changes nothing.”

  “Mason?”

  “Angel, it’s my turn to talk.”

  “Oh, all right,” I whisper and force my mouth closed. I want to say something, but I need to let Mason have his say, first.

  “Beauty, when I first met you I knew you were like no other woman in the world. I knew I had to get to know you and I was right. You are truly like no other. I love you and I want to be with you, forever. You make me want to be a better person, you make me want to see the world through your innocent eyes. You make me want to protect you, care for you, and love you, with everything that I am as a man.” Mason reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out the engagement ring and holds it to my ring finger. “Angel, the news we received today doesn’t change that. It doesn’t change the way I feel for you, care for you, or love you. I want to be your husband, I want to be the father of yo
ur children, and I want us to grow old together. I want to be the father to this baby: our baby.” Mason looks me in the eyes and smiles, his beautiful, dimpled, and genuine smile, “Angelica Hope Ramos Perez, will you please marry me?”

  “Really?” I cry, with shaky hands and blurred vision. The tears are streaming down my face. “You want me to marry you and you want to be this baby’s father?”

  “Yes, really, I do,” Mason says, still holding the ring to my finger with a smile. “I want that more than anything I have ever wanted in my life.”

  “Mason, how do you know you can love this baby?”

  “Beauty, this baby is part of you and I already love it. I promise to love you and this baby like I have never loved or cared for anything in my life.”

  “Yes,” I squeal, “Mason Alexander Myles, I would love to marry you.”

  Mason slides the ring on my finger and it is a perfect fit. He lifts me from the couch, and I stand on my tiptoes to kiss him. He picks me up until we are eye to eye. I can feel the smile on his lips during our kiss. I wrap my legs around him and he leans his head back away from me, smiling. I can’t help but smile, too.

  “We are getting married,” he states. “You will be mine, forever. Just like I knew you would be,” he adds before kissing me again.

  “Oh, my God, I need to call Uncle Raùl and Aunt Maria and tell them about the engagement. They will be so upset with me for not telling them.”

  “It’s all right, Beauty. Raùl already knows and I’m sure Maria knows, too. I called and asked his permission last week before I asked you. He is probably wondering what is taking me so long. He thought I was going to ask you on your birthday. You may want to call him and tell him I got cold feet or something.”

  “You called my uncle and asked his permission to marry me?”

  “I did, why?”

  “Do people still do that?”

  “Well, I have never done this before, but yes, I believe that is the proper way and the right thing to do. If it were my daughter, I would want the person to ask my permission, first.”