Room Mates_The Series

by Kendall Ryan

I realized for the first time that he always wanted to open the envelope. He’d only been waiting for me. And the anticipation must have been killing him. I think in that moment I fell a little in love and instead of fighting it, I pulled the feeling closer and let it wrap around me like a warm blanket.

  We waited for the check, which he paid like a gentleman, and then we walked back onto the street with our hands laced together.

  “I like the idea of a tiny you,” he said.

  “A tiny me?” I asked.

  “Yeah.” He swung our hands back and forth between us. “Maybe she’ll be a veterinarian. A little bit of you and a little bit of me.”

  “Makes sense.” I sighed. “Whatever she becomes, we know she’ll be smart.”

  “If she has half your brains, she’ll be just fine.”

  “I would say the same about you.” We stopped in front of my complex, and he leaned down and kissed me just as a raindrop fell on my shoulder. Slowly I wrapped my arms around his neck and fell into his kiss, pushing and pulling along with his tongue until my head swam.

  I didn’t know if I was stalling or simply taken by the moment, but whatever it was, when he pulled away, the last thing I wanted to do was follow him inside.

  Instead I wanted to stay out here in the rain, in his arms, breathing in the uncertainty of a family that I only just now realized how badly I wanted.

  It had been so long since I’d had a family that was whole and happy and good. To have this baby…to have the chance to mend the broken pieces of my heart that my father’s death had left behind…it would be such a blessing. But I had to take that terrifying first step.

  Mason took my hand and led me into the building, stopping only when we reached my front door.

  I pulled out my keys and unlocked it, then led him inside, ignoring the sudden tightness in my chest.

  “Time for round two,” I said, then found the matches and lit every candle in the room until the whole place was filled with glowing yellow light. Mason ducked into my bedroom, and when he reappeared, he held the white envelope—and our fate—in his hands.

  I took a deep breath then turned on the indie folk station again, closing my eyes as the music filled my head and dulled the insistent pounding of my heart.

  “We don’t have to do this.” His deep voice rumbled through the room, and I opened my eyes again to find Mason waiting for me.

  “No,” I said, taking another step toward him and the tall pillar candle in the center of my coffee table. Thought nerves swam in my belly, I knew it was time. “I want to know. Once and for all.”

  He nodded. “Then let’s find out.”

  He handed me the envelope and I blinked back at him. “But I thought—”

  “You’ve been patient with me and you agreed to my crazy scheme. You should be the one to open the envelope.”

  I swallowed hard, then nodded. “Okay, fine, but come close so we see it at the same time.”

  He took another step toward me, wrapping one of his arms around my shoulders as I held the envelope in my now trembling hands.

  This was it. The moment of truth.

  “Whatever this paper says…” I started, but I had no words. Shaking my head, I wet my lips, then said, “Maybe we ought to count down?”

  “That’s a great idea. On three?” he asked.

  “On three,” I agreed.

  “One,” he said.

  “Two,” I sighed.

  “Three.” We said the last word in unison, and I tore the final scrap of paper from inside the envelope and stared down at it as Mason’s arm squeezed me close to his hot, hard chest.

  But the words weren’t right and they blurred before me. They weren’t the ones I’d been expecting. And when I closed my eyes at night?

  The words weren’t the ones I’d seen in my dreams.

  Mason’s arm loosened from my shoulders and he stepped back before I turned to face him.

  “Not pregnant,” I said through numb lips, though the words alone made me suddenly want to burst into tears. “Are you relieved?”

  I could hear myself talking and it sounded echoey to my own ears as I tried to quell the sudden wash of nausea that swept over me.

  “No,” he said simply, his blue gaze searching mine. “Not at all.”

  “Me, neither,” I admitted, swiping a trembling hand over my eyes. “Shit. How accurate is this?”

  “It’s accurate, Bren.”

  Confusion, fear and disappointment washed over me. “I think I need a drink.”

  I blew out the candle on the coffee table and stalked toward the little bar cart in the entryway. Carefully I selected the best bottle of whiskey I had—though in truth it was also the only bottle—and poured two glasses.

  Making my way back to him, I held out a glass and he took it without a word.

  “I thought…” I started, but everything I’d thought sounded dumb now. Unimportant.

  I took a sip of my drink and winced at the burning oaky flavor that hit me even harder considering I hadn’t had a drink in so long. I couldn’t. Not when I’d thought I was having a baby.

  A million questions rushed through my head, but I didn’t have the nerve to ask a single one of them. Instead, I settled onto my couch and stared down at my glass, wondering about what this would mean for me. What it would mean for us. He had no reason to stay here now, to make this budding relationship work. And I had no reason to ask him to.

  Only a couple of hours or so ago, we’d daydreamed together about a baby girl who was smart and brave and wonderful, pledged that we were together, but that had been when there was a potential baby in the mix. Now that we knew there wasn’t? There was no telling how Mason’s feelings might have changed. Maybe this was the end of the road.

  But it was more than that. I felt like, even though there had never been a baby, the child between us had gone. Like all my hopes and dreams for the baby I’d wanted so much were dashed in that one terrible moment. And just like a tragedy, the death of hope left grief in its wake.

  “So,” Mason said, and then took a sip of his own drink.

  I followed suit, then said, “So.”

  We stared at one another, suddenly aware of a stark, tense awkwardness that had never been more present…not even the day my feet had been in stirrups. Which, I supposed, made sense, because suddenly there was simply nothing left to say. We had nothing to do, nothing to plan. The vitamins he’d given me were useless. All of our past conversations on the topic were just silly dreams.

  It was all gone, replaced instead with crushing, all-consuming disappointment.

  “I have to get up early,” I said. “I wonder if—”

  “Yeah, sure. I’d better get going anyway. I’ve got a big day ahead of me as well,” he said, and though we both knew we were just making lame excuses, I nodded. Clearly we both needed some time to process this and didn’t need an audience while we did it. It was a lot to take in.

  I followed him to the door, taking his half-full glass before waving him off and embracing the sudden stillness of the apartment.

  “Night,” he said stiffly.

  “Night,” I returned before closing the apartment door.

  There were no sweet embraces, no tender goodnight kisses, no promises to call tomorrow.

  As I took a deep breath and stalked toward the bar cart for a refill, I realized there were things to be grateful for. Loads of them. Now I wouldn’t have to move or know the financial burden of a child. I wouldn’t go through morning sickness or cravings. I wouldn’t have stretch marks or pee when I coughed too hard. I wouldn’t gain weight. Hallelujah, am I right?

  I wouldn’t have a baby.

  With shaky hands, I brought the whiskey to my lips and took a long sip.

  I glanced at the door behind me, then leaned back until my back hit the wood of the door. I slid all the way to the ground, crumpling until my head rested on my knees and I saw the world from an angle as big and overwhelming as it felt.

  I wouldn’t have a b
aby.

  I couldn’t understand it any more than I could understand why the weight of loss was pressing so hard and deep on my chest. Leaning my head back against the wood of the door, I tried again to take a deep breath, but instead I gasped out a sob as a scalding tear rolled down my cheek and dripped onto my shirt.

  First one, then another and another until I was crying, mourning the loss of something that had never been mine to begin with.

  I wasn’t having Mason’s baby.

  Chapter Twenty

  Mason

  I felt like I’d been holding my breath ever since I’d left Bren’s apartment last night.

  As Mondays went, it was even worse than usual—complete with a drab, rainy sky and the promise of a stilted lunch with only one of my parents instead of both of them. Because, from now on, that was how I’d be seeing them most of the time now—separately.

  After my second appointment of the day, I trudged back to my office, determined to get some work done if only to feel slightly accomplished on top of whatever else this deluge of disappointment and confusion had already caused.

  As soon as I sat down, though, Trent walked in behind me, knocking on the open door before stepping in front of my desk.

  “Why aren’t you ready to go?”

  I closed my eyes, then opened them again, trying to hide my exasperation and all-around exhaustion. I’d barely slept when I got home last night. Instead, I’d spent the whole of the evening pacing, thinking about Bren, wondering if I ought to have stayed longer to comfort her. As potential motherhood had been ripped away from her, I’d behaved like an asshat when I could have and should have been her rock. If she didn’t trust me anymore, I wouldn’t blame her. But the again…maybe she’d never really trusted me at all.

  Not that I had any way of knowing how she felt to begin with. She hadn’t answered the text I’d sent last night when I’d gotten home, and she’d seemed to need some space. I’d already made the mistake of crowding her once and I wasn’t about to do it again.

  “Dude, what is up with you?” Trent asked.

  “I’m sorry, man. Distracted is all. Where am I supposed to be going?”

  Trent’s mouth became a thin line as he tilted his head to the side. “It’s our day in neonatal. We’ve got to be there in ten minutes and we obviously also have to stop for a decent-sized coffee for you on the way.”

  “I’m fine,” I shot back.

  “You have purple bags under your eyes. Now, come on. Grab your coat. Coffee’s on me.”

  I did as he asked, then followed him down the hall, stopping only to instruct my assistant which calls to take and which to get messages for. Paramount, obviously, was to call me if Bren phoned the office. Though of course, now that she wasn’t pregnant, she’d have no reason to.

  “You know what? Just get messages from everyone,” I corrected myself, then followed Trent through the open door and into the wide, drearily lit atrium.

  Rain flecked the wide skylights, and I glanced up briefly before turning back to Trent.

  “Okay, I could probably do with a coffee,” I admitted.

  “No kidding,” Trent said, still leading me through the revolving door and onto the street. Our private practice wasn’t far from the hospital—convenient for when our patients went into labor—and luckily there was a Starbucks just next door to both.

  I walked into the dim little cafe and got into the line, only vaguely aware that Trent still stood beside me as I waited. After I’d ordered, though, we stood at the delivery counter, and from my peripheral vision I could see him surveying me warily.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “I should ask you the same thing. You’ve been a zombie all day and you love going to neonatal but you aren’t even smiling.”

  “I’m just not in a baby mood today,” I said.

  Trent squinted at me as my name was called and I collected my coffee.

  “You’re in a rough field to not be in a baby mood,” Trent said with a short laugh.

  “I know, I know. Look, things have just been weird for me lately. Besides, what’s with the third degree? Why don’t we talk about you for a change?”

  “Because I actually have my shit together. You, on the other hand—”

  “Hey,” I said. “Look, I’ve got a lunch date with my mom later and I’m just weirded out about how it’s going to be now that my parents are splitting up. I think people always mean for these things to go amicably and then it turns into a bloodbath, so.”

  Trent shook his head. “Nope. I don’t think that’s it.”

  “I’m telling you it is, though.”

  “Look, I get that the whole parental thing is weird.”

  “It’s beyond weird. I’ve only known them together my whole life and now it’s going to be an adjustment. I’ll get over it.”

  Trent nodded. “My parents have been divorced for a long time. It’s going to be strange at first and it’s going to be worse when they start dating again, but it’ll work out. I’ve known your dad for a long time. He’s not the sort of guy who lets things get ugly if he can help it, and your mom seems great.”

  “I know. That’s true.” I took a deep breath. “And I guess that’s not all of it either.”

  “No?” Trent said. “Color me shocked.”

  “Just humor me here, okay?” I said. “So Bren and I opened the envelope last night.”

  “I figured,” Trent said, nodding.

  “What, are you a mind reader now, too?”

  “No, Bren called and canceled a checkup we had on the books,” Trent said.

  “At least I know her phone is still working. I have no evidence of that myself.”

  Trent shrugged. “People handle things in different ways. But hey, you both dodged a bullet, right?”

  “Right,” I sighed. “I just wish it felt that way.”

  “It doesn’t?”

  “No. I mean, you’d think I’d be thrilled not to have a baby with a virtual stranger, but over these last two weeks we’ve just gotten closer, you know? Like, even in such a short period, I feel really connected to her.”

  Trent led me through the hospital’s revolving doors but didn’t say anything.

  “What?” I prompted.

  “I don’t know, man. This is some deep shit.”

  I nodded. “I know. It’s insane. It makes no sense to be disappointed.”

  “And how does she feel?” Trent asked.

  “I don’t know. I left almost right after we found out and she hasn’t answered my texts since. She seemed as upset as I was, though. It seemed like I’d just gotten her to open up a little and the news sealed her right back up, tighter than before.”

  “Maybe she is upset,” Trent said. “Did she want children? Neither one of you are getting any younger. Biological clock and all that shit.”

  “She wanted the baby, I think. She didn’t say it in as many words, but I think we both wanted the baby.”

  “Well, the baby isn’t happening so, from my perspective, you need to figure something else out.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like whether, now that you’re not going to be a family, you still want to see this girl and maybe have a family with her down the line.”

  “I do. Absolutely. But if she won’t answer my text—”

  “Then you need to figure out how to get back on the right track. The Mason I know doesn’t give up at the first sign of a challenge.”

  We walked into the neonatal unit and a nurse approached us, briefing us on which babies needed to be rocked or fed. I picked up the first little girl she’d pointed to—a tiny thing with delicate pink skin and a shock of dark hair.

  Taking a bottle from the nurse, I fed the little girl, rocked her in my arms, and held back another rush of regret as I stared into her wide blue eyes. She was perfect in every way. Beautiful. Just like I’d pictured my own daughter for that brief, shining moment yesterday evening.

  “You okay?” Trent asked as he rocked a baby
boy.

  I nodded. “Yup. Just realizing that for once, you’re right, man. I need to figure out something and quick. If I don’t, I’m going to be letting the woman I want get away.”

  Now the only question was what exactly I needed to do to get her to realize that there was more than just this baby that never was between us.

  “Now you’re thinking. Shit, maybe you should take her away for the weekend, make a grand gesture and all that,” Trent said. “Women love that shit.”

  He was right. We needed the focus back on me and Bren. Start fresh. Someplace that was totally different from all the places we’d been when we were thinking we might become a family. A chance to start over.

  I glanced down at the baby in my arms, then settled her back in her crib before I pulled my phone from my lab coat pocket.

  “Trent, any chance you can cover for me today?” I asked.

  Trent frowned. “Yeah, all right. Everything okay?”

  I nodded. “Totally fine. I’m going to do it.”

  “Do what?”

  “Take Bren away.”

  Trent chuckled. “I didn’t mean today, dude.”

  “No time like the present.”

  If she wasn’t answering my message, I had to send one she had no choice but to respond to.

  With quick fingers, I typed, “Get ready. We’re leaving in an hour.”

  Then, when I heard the chime letting me know the message had been sent, I called the zoo and asked to be transferred to the head of endangered animals. Then I waited until a clear, chirpy female voice filled the line.

  “Mandy with the City Zoo. How can I help you today?”

  “Hi, Mandy. This is Mason. I’m calling in reference to Bren Matthew’s schedule.”

  There was a slight pause, and then she said, “What about it?”

  “Well, I have a few questions. First, is she there today?”

  “Not until this afternoon,” she replied slowly. “It’s her late night. Why?”

  “Would it be possible to rearrange the schedule so that Bren didn’t come in to work for a few days? It’s important.”

  Another pause. “Is this Dr. Bentley?”

  “It is.”

  Her next long pause made my gut tense, but then she spoke.