Destined to Love (Starting Over Trilogy Book 3) Read online

  Destined to Love

  By Brenda Kennedy

  Copyright 2014 by Brenda Kennedy

  KINDLE EDITION

  Dedicated to my children and grandchildren. I love you.

  I would also like to dedicate this series to everyone who has survived domestic violence and to those who didn’t.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter One: Will You Marry Me?

  Chapter Two: Oh, Baby

  Chapter Three: Tiny Miracles and Huge Blessings

  Chapter Four: Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed, Something Blue

  Note

  Acknowledgements

  CHAPTER ONE: WILL YOU MARRY ME?

  Angel

  “I was scared, I thought you were giving me an engagement ring there for a minute,” I say, looking at Mason. His eyes are dark, and he is rubbing his finger over his top lip. He is looking at me, but I don’t think he sees me.

  “I’m glad you like it, but I have something to ask you.”

  “Oh.” Now my heart starts to beat a little faster and my palms sweat. “You do?”

  His eyes are dark, and I can’t read them.

  Mason reaches in his jacket pocket, and pulls out a smaller black velvet box. He stands up, unbuttons his jacket, and kneels down on one knee in front of me. He looks so calm. He opens the velvet box and reveals a princess-cut engagement ring with a two-carat diamond set in gold.

  “Angel,” he says as he removes the engagement ring and lays the empty box on the table. He takes my left hand in his and strokes my knuckles with his thumb gently. “I have waited my whole life for you. When I first saw you, I knew I wanted you. I know we haven’t known each other long, but we have been through so much already, and I know, without a doubt, that I want to spend every day of my life with you.” Mason looks at me and smiles. “There is nothing that we can’t handle together. I want you to be my wife, to be the mother of my children. I want us to grow old together. You are so beautiful and I love you.” He smiles and holds the ring to my finger. “Angelica Hope Ramos Perez, will you marry me?”

  I look at him with tears streaming down my eyes. “Mason?” I swallow the lump in my throat before I try to speak. “I love you, but there is something I have to tell you first.”

  “Oh, that’s not the answer I was expecting.”

  “Here, sit down first.” I stand up and pull his chair out for him to sit.

  Mason stands, then sits down directly across from me, giving me his undivided attention. “It must be serious,” he says, while leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. He clasps his hands together; I think it’s to keep himself from fidgeting with the ring he is still holding.

  “First of all, thank you for tonight. Dinner, the beautiful flowers, and my stunning past, present, and future necklace.” I smile, and gently touch the necklace.

  Mason just watches me and listens.

  “I want you to know that I am so in love with you and I thank God, every day, for bringing you into my life.” I wipe a few stray tears away using the back of my hand.

  Mason leans over the table and takes my hand in his. “Beauty, whatever it is, just say it. There isn’t anything that we can’t work through. Whatever it is, I am here for you,” he says while gently stroking my knuckles.

  It’s a sweet gesture that usually calms me instantly. I look up at Mason through wet eyelashes and blurred vision from crying. I clear my throat and say, “There’s no easy way for me to say this and I regret having to tell you…”

  “Beauty, please, it can’t be…”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  Mason just looks at me. Expressionless. He leans back in his chair before leaning forward again. My stomach does flip flops waiting for him to say something. He didn’t stand up and walk out, so that’s a good thing.

  The maître’d walks past and Mason orders a double Scotch, before turning his attention back to me to ask, “Do you want anything?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  The maitre’d walks off. “How do you know?”

  “I took a pregnancy test yesterday.”

  “You took one?” he asks, leaning back into his seat again. He places the beautiful princess-cut engagement ring on the table beside the black velvet box it came in.

  “Three. I took three yesterday, I wanted to be sure.”

  The maitre’d shows up with Mason’s double Scotch and Mason quickly orders another double. He downs his drink and hands the empty glass back to the maitre’d.

  “Are you all right?” I ask, because I have never seen Mason drink like this before.

  “It’s a bit of a shock, that’s all. I didn’t consider this being a possibility. So, you took three pregnancy tests yesterday?” he asks, once the maitre’d is far enough away not to hear us. He leans forward in his seat again and runs his hands through his hair. I already know this is a sign of stress for Mason.

  “I did. I wanted to be certain,” I say, looking at him and wondering what he is thinking.

  The maitre’d shows up with Mason’s drink and he orders another double before he downs this drink. The maitre’d looks around the empty dining room before looking at me. I look over at Mason and his eyes are glassy.

  I look at the maitre’d who is still standing there. “Bring him one more along with the check, please.”

  “Certainly.”

  Mason closes his eyes and leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees again. He runs his fingers across his bottom lip. “Are you having any symptoms? Is that why you took the pregnancy tests?”

  “I’m always tired and I felt dizzy a couple of times. I just wanted to clear my thoughts. I wanted us to be able to move on and put all this behind us. I didn’t expect the tests to be positive.”

  The maitre’d arrives at the table and hands Mason his double Scotch and hands me the check. I pay the bar bill with cash while Mason downs this drink, too. He smiles at me and I know he is drunk.

  “Would you please have the valet pull the last car around and help me get him to the car?”

  “Of course, just give me a minute,” the maitre’d says, walking away from the table.

  “Angel?”

  “Mason?” I look at him with a sad smile. He is smiling and I know it’s from the alcohol.

  “You’re beautisful,” he slurs.

  “Come on, Handsome, let’s get you home.” I pick up the engagement ring, and look at it closely before I place it safely back into the velvet box and put it in my purse. I also toss an additional tip on the table. Maybe that will make up for them staying open later for us.

  We walk Mason out and help him get into the passenger seat of his Porsche.

  I tip the valet and get into the driver’s seat. I think about how the roles have changed. Mason is always the protector and is always so in control; now it’s my turn to take care of him.

  I look over at Mason, who is resting his head on the back of the seat with his eyes closed. “Buckle up, Handsome,” I say, sitting behind the wheel in the driver’s seat.

  He looks over at me with glassy eyes. “You’re driving,” he states, and it’s not a question. He looks out the window in confusion, before looking over at me again. “I’m drunk.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m very drunk.” He looks out the window again. “I have never been in the passenger seat of my car before.”

  “We’ll be home very soon.

  “Are you buckled in, Beauty?” he slurs.

  I smile. “I am, Handsome, we’ll be home soon.”

  I cautiously pull out of the parking lot into the main street. I look at Mason and he is resting his head
on back of the seat with his eyes closed. We drive to his beach house in silence. Mason begins to snore as I pull into his garage. I get out and open his car door. I hope he wakes up easily.

  “Mason,” I say, stroking his cheek lightly. He opens his eyes and smiles at me.

  “Hi.”

  I smile. “Hi, we’re home. Let me help you out,” I say, reaching my hand in for his.

  He tries to swivel in his seat before he unbuckles his seat belt. When he is unable to turn anymore, he laughs. “I’m struck,” he slurs.

  I laugh, too. “You’re stuck?”

  “Yeah, I’m struck?”

  I reach in and unbuckle his seat belt for him. “There, let’s try this again.”

  Mason turns and stands up. I shut his car door and help him into the house. He stumbles through the house and into the bedroom before he flops down on the bed fully clothed.

  “Happy birthsday,” he slurs.

  I laugh. I think he is already asleep. I remove his shoes and he doesn’t move. I walk into the kitchen and get a bottle of water and some Tylenol and set it on his nightstand for when he wakes up. He is going to need this. After I cover him with my quilt, I go into the restroom and get ready for bed. I get into my purse and pull out the black velvet box that holds the engagement ring. I open it and look at it and touch it softly. My life with Mason is over before it began; I will never know what the ring will look like on my finger or how perfect my life with Mason may have been. It is beautiful. After I place it back in the box and place the box next to the bottle of water on his nightstand, I go to bed. I scoot as close to Mason as I can. I always sleep better when I feel him next to me.

  He turns into me and wraps his arm around me. “Angel?” he whispers.

  “I’m here,” I say, stroking Mason’s cheek.

  “Can I be the dad?” he whispers so softly that I almost miss it, before he falls back to sleep.

  I stroke his cheek and whisper into his ear, “Oh, Mason, I wouldn’t want anyone else to be.”

  Mason

  I wake up and it is still dark outside. My head hurts and my mouth feels like cotton. I look at the cable box — the time reads 3:54 a.m. Angel is lying in the crook of my arm, smelling like peaches and cinnamon. I kiss the top of her head and she rolls over. On the nightstand is a bottle of water and some Tylenol she must have laid out for me. Grateful they are within reach, I take the Tylenol and down the bottle of water. I look on the nightstand and a small black velvet box is sitting there. I reach for it and open it. The engagement ring I bought Angel is still inside. The events of last night come rushing back to me. I close my eyes as I remember: Angel’s birthday, the dinner, the proposal, and the pregnancy. The pregnancy.

  I slowly get out of bed, careful not to wake Angel, and head into the guest bath. I look in the mirror and stare at myself as I remember last night. Did Angel tell me she took three pregnancy tests? Three? What did I say? Fuck, did I order a double Scotch? My head throbs at the memory. How many drinks did I have? Did Angel tell me she was pregnant and I got drunk after hearing the news? Smooth, Mason. That is not how I envisioned the night going. I run my hands through my hair and just stare at my reflection in the mirror again. Fuck, did I just think Fuck? I remember that I am supposed to stop cussing to be a better person for her. This is going to be harder than I thought.

  I shower and dress for the day, wishing it were the weekend; I sure could use a day off. It’s 4:44 a.m. and we both have work today. I make a mental list of what I need to do today before I get home tonight. I set the coffee pot timer for a little before 6:30 for Angel and leave her a note on top of my pillow. I kneel down beside her near the bed and watch her sleep. She is so beautiful. I brush her hair away from her face and kiss her goodbye before heading out the door. She doesn’t stir.

  Angel

  I wake up to my alarm clock at 6:30 a.m. The aroma of coffee is in the air. I turn off the alarm and roll over to wake Mason up. He isn’t in bed, but there is a note on top of his pillow. I read it: Good morning, Beauty. I forgot about an early-morning staff meeting I am having at work. The coffee should be ready for you. I was hoping maybe you could meet me at my office for lunch today? I love you, Mason. Either he really did have a meeting this morning or he had to get away from me to think about last night. He has never asked me to meet him for lunch before, and he has never left while I was still asleep before either.

  I get up and have my coffee first, then shower. I decide on a white blouse with a grey pencil skirt and heels. Sadly, my days of wearing form-fitting clothes are limited. I get dressed and look at myself in the floor-length mirror; I’m happy my outfit still fits. I turn sideways, and I don’t look pregnant.

  I go into work carrying doughnuts and coffee for Sara, Brea, and me. They are already at their desks working when I get there. My friends warmly greet me.

  “I brought breakfast,” I say, placing the bag of doughnuts and coffee on the break-room table.

  Sara stands, looks in the bag, and is surprised to see doughnuts instead of the muffins that I usually bring.

  “First Brea, and now you. If we keep eating these, we are all going to get fat.”

  Brea stands up from her desk and rubs her big pregnant belly: “Who are you calling fat?”

  We all laugh as Brea makes her way over to the table and takes a doughnut from the bag.

  “Um, not you.” I smile.

  “Good, I’m very sensitive about my weight, you know.” Brea picks up a vanilla cream fill doughnuts and takes a bite.

  “Yeah, we can see that.” Sara laughs.

  “How was your birthday dinner with Mason last night?” Brea asks.

  “It was good; thanks for asking.” I take my coffee and head over to my desk. I don’t want to go into details about last night with them. I sit at my desk and my phone rings. Grateful for the distraction, I answer it cheerfully.

  We are busy until lunchtime. I tell Sara and Brea that I am going to have lunch with Mason at his office. They both brought their lunches to work today and will stay in and eat at the office.

  I park my car in the parking lot outside of Mason’s office. I have butterflies in my stomach wondering why he wanted to meet me here. He has never asked me to have lunch with him here before. Maybe he wants to end our relationship. Maybe it’s too much for him to handle. God, what if he doesn’t even remember last night. He was pretty drunk. His car is the only other car in the lot, besides mine. I send him a text and tell him I am outside. Mason opens the back door for me and greets me with a smile.

  “Hi, I’m glad you made it.” He holds the door open wide for me to walk through.

  “We had some down time, so I was able to leave,” I say, following him down the hallway and into his office.

  “You look beautiful. Please sit,” he says, pointing to the brown leather couch, as he closes his office door.

  “Thank you and all right.” I sit down and Mason sits across from me in one of the big overstuffed cloth chairs.

  “Have you eaten yet?”

  “No, not yet. I came right over to see you. I’ll get something when I leave.” Mason seems so formal and it is beginning to scare me. “Is everything all right?”

  Mason leans up from the chair and rests his elbows on his knees. “Everything’s fine. Carla is bringing us food back so we can have lunch together here before you leave.”

  “Ok, are you sure you’re all right? You seem a little… different.”

  Mason looks at me with a sad smile. “I wanted to talk to you about last night.”

  “Mason, look, if this is too much for you, I totally get that. I didn’t mean to drop a bomb on you like that. I had no idea you were going to propose to me last night.” I start to stand and Mason stops me.

  “Don’t leave, sit down,” he says and I do. I always do what Mason wants. He carries such authority.

  “Are you done?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I say, straightening my skirt and picking at a piece of lint that doesn’t exist.
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  “Good. First of all, I’m sorry about last night. I should have handled things differently.”

  “Mason, please…”

  “Angel, let me talk.”

  “Ok.” It’s the only thing I say. Mason is never short with me; I know he has something important to say.

  “Last night you told me you took three pregnancy tests. Is that right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where did you buy them?”

  “What difference…”

  “Where, Angel?”

  “Publix.”

  “Did you take them all at once or did you wait in between?”

  “I took one, waited for the results, and then took another one. I couldn’t pee right away so I had to drink some water before I took the last one.”

  “I see.”

  “Look, Mason, I don’t see what difference it makes about where I bought them or how long I waited to pee in between the tests.”

  “Angel, what does this say?” he asks, pointing to his nametag, smiling.

  I have to smile, too. “It says, Mason Myles.”

  “Look again, what else does it say?”

  Damn him, I know where he’s going with this. I lean forward and squint my eyes to make it seem like I can’t read the rest of it.

  “What else does it say, Angel?”

  “It says, Mason Myles, M.D.” I smile.

  “Very good, do you know why it says M.D. after my name?”

  I don’t say anything, I just look at him.

  “I’ll tell you why. I went to medical school for a very long time to get those initials after my name. Believe it or not, I’m a pretty smart man and one thing I know a lot about is medicine.”

  “Ok, doctor, I get it. What is your point?”

  “Angel, my point is, sometimes those tests you buy in the grocery stores, supermarkets, or pharmacies are old and outdated. Sometimes those tests are not accurate or can give a false positive. My point is, maybe it was an old test and maybe, just maybe, it was a false positive.”

  “Oh God, I never thought about that,” I say, leaning back into the couch.

  There is a knock at the door. Mason stands and goes to the door to answer it. I don’t see anyone, but I can hear him talking to his office manager and friend, Carla. He closes the door and carries the food over and places it on the coffee table.