The Soul Mate (Roommates, # 4)

Chapter 15 Mason



I thought back to the stack of custody papers she’d handed me on Friday night. “Yeah, she does.”

“What difference does it make, then? She gives up drinking for a month. You put the results in an envelope and date until it’s time to open the thing.”

“But if the pregnancy is ectopic or something-”

“Then I’ll know the results and run things smoothly as they normally would go,” Trent said. “Now, I came in here to tell you the hematologist just dropped off this week’s tests. What do you want me to do?”

My stomach clenched into a tight knot. Could I live with not knowing about the baby for an entire month? If it meant I got a shot at developing a real relationship, naturally, with Bren, then the choice was easy. For me, at least. I just hoped she’d let me lead in this situation.

“I guess pitching her the idea couldn’t hurt.”

“It can’t. I’ll go take care of everything.” He pushed himself from his seat and strolled from the office, and I stared down at my half-eaten sandwich, suddenly no longer hungry.

Could I really do this? As badly as I wanted to rip into that envelope, I knew that Bren deserved to be the first person to know.

More for something to do than anything else, I picked up the sandwich on my desk and took a bite, barely tasting the food before swallowing it. In a matter of minutes, Trent returned, a sealed, unmarked envelope in his hand.

He sat it on my desk on top of the clipboard holding my litany of mistakes. I wondered if he’d done that on purpose.

“Here you go,” he said, his tone totally flat.

I searched his face, but he looked impassive as ever.

“What?” I asked.

Trent shook his head. “I told them not to tell me unless there was a pregnancy and a potential problem. Only one person in this office knows the truth and I’m not telling you who it is.”

“Right.” I nodded. “Smart,” I muttered, impressed in spite of myself.

“Now, you should probably call your girl. I imagine you’ve got some talking to do.”

Trent slipped from the room again, and I glanced at my phone before pulling out Bren’s intake form and dialing the number there. The phone barely had a chance to ring before her clear, crisp voice sounded on the other end.

“Hello?” she said, her voice washing over me like honey.

“Hey,” I started, “it’s Mason.”

“Oh, hey.” The nervous spark in her voice heightened. “Do you have the test results?”

“I do, and everything is fine, but I think we should talk about it in person. Is there any chance you could meet me in my office this afternoon when you get out of work?”

“It’s my day off,” she said. “Is there a time you had in mind?”

I glanced at the clock. It was nearly one-not time to go home. But then, Trent did owe me a favor or two…

“I’ll have my partner cover my appointments for this afternoon. Could you come in now?”

“Um, sure. You said you’re sure everything is okay?”

“I’m sure. I just think it’d be better to talk in person.”

She agreed and hung up, and then I forced myself to take a deep breath and focus on the work in front of me. With a quick note to my assistant, I asked her to work my schedule around. Then I stared at the intake and patient records I’d ruined earlier that day.

With any luck, not knowing for the next month might get easier. But right now?

Right now I kept staring at the clock every few minutes, waiting for the buzzer to sound and let me know that Bren had finally arrived. After ten torturous minutes, though, it finally did.

“Let her in,” I told my assistant, then sat up straighter in my chair as I waited for the door to creak open and Bren’s pretty, heart-shaped face to peek around the corner. When it did, I had to bite my tongue to keep from breaking into a huge grin at the sight of her.

It felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from the room. In washed-out shorts and a faded blue blouse, she was knockout. Her hair was long and wavy today, and her wide-set gray eyes stood in stark contrast to her pale skin.

Due to nerves or morning sickness? I couldn’t help but wonder.Owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

“Please, sit,” I motioned to the chair Trent had occupied before and she settled in easily, though she hitched her purse a little higher on her shoulder rather than setting it on the ground. I double-checked to make sure the door was closed, then picked up the envelope containing our combined fate and handed it to her.

“What’s this?” she asked, then moved to open it, but I stopped her.

“Wait,” I said, holding up a hand. “I have a proposal, and you can decide whether you want to open it when I’m done, all right?”


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