Destined to Love (Starting Over Trilogy Book 3) (3 page)

“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 your 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.”
 

“And that is why I love you,” I say, kissing him again.
 

“It’s not because of my good looks and charm?” He smiles.

“Well, it’s that, too,” I laugh.

“Go call them. I’m sure he is waiting to hear from you.”
 

Mason gently puts me on the floor. I reach for my cell phone and call my aunt and uncle about the news of our engagement. They are both excited and they love Mason. Maria asks questions like when the wedding is, where the wedding will be, and things like that. Questions that I have no answers to. Uncle Raùl asks to speak to Mason before we hang up. We say our goodbyes and I hand the phone over to Mason so they can talk. Mason smiles and says, “Thank you,” before hanging up after talking to my uncle.

“My turn,” Mason says, while taking his cell phone out of his pocket to call someone. Mason calls his Mom and Dad, and I can hear screaming on the other end of the phone. He laughs, then hands me the phone. His mother, Lilly, is screaming with excitement. They both congratulate me before I hand the phone back over to him.