Still candidates to be recipients for miracles.
It was that thinking that got her through the weeks without Braden.
At work, she watched the parking lot every day for his SUV. Once or twice a week she saw it there. Those days were better than others.
And harder, too.
When her phone rang on one of those days—Thursday of the third week since she’d severed their relationship—and she saw his number, she debated
whether she should answer. The ringing stopped before she’d come up with an answer and then she debated whether to call him back.
Her phone signaled a voice mail before either side of her won.
“Mallory, I have the legal papers you requested. May I drop them off to you? Please advise.”
She texted him rather than call him back.
I’ll come get them.
She didn’t want him in her space.
* * *
He was behaving like a sot. Someone he was ashamed to know. He could have left the papers with William. Could have had his attorney mail them to her or to her attorney.
Perversity drove him to use the papers as an excuse to see her.
She’d get exactly what she wanted. He owed her that. But he wanted things, too. To see her. To reassure himself that she was getting along just fine without him.
And to clear up one other point.
If he was going to be free, he wanted it known that he was completely free.
She showed up at his office ten minutes after he called her. He’d purposely timed his call for her usual lunch break so he wasn’t all that surprised.
In jeans and an oversize Bouncing Ball polo shirt, with a purple cardigan to match, she walked her matching purple tennis shoes into his office as though she had no idea she’d just poleaxed him with a shaft of pain so sharp he had to take a second to catch his breath.
Her hair was down, curled around her shoulders and lightly made-up face. And that belly. Already it was as big as he remembered her ever getting with his son. Which made him think about the back pain she’d suffered that last month with Tucker. She’d leaned her stomach against his back at night, using him to help her hold the weight of their baby. It had been the only way she could get comfortable enough to sleep.
She still had more than two months to go. How in the hell was she ever going to rest?
Not his problem, he reminded himself.
“You look good.” He kept his tone neutral. No reason they couldn’t be civil. Their differences were not the fault of either one of them.
“So do you.”
He’d noticed her looking at him. For a second there, hope flared, but he took hold of that response immediately. There’d be no inane reactions here that he’d have to pay for, or regret, later.
“Read this over. If everything meets with your approval, sign it in front of a notary and get it back to me. I’ll countersign, my attorney will file it, and you’ll get a final copy.” He stopped short of suggesting that she have her own attorney look at it. Opinions and advice were a friendship thing.
She took the manila envelope. “Thank you.”
He let her get to the door and then said, “Mallory.”
She turned around. Relief flooded him.
He quickly put a clamp on it.