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If she got pregnant. When she got pregnant.

She could already be pregnant.

And if she was, she wouldn’t be in any position to join him in opening a new business.

He knew how she was. He remembered the way she’d buzzed through every hour of every day spouting off crib prices, watching sales, conversing on anything baby. He knew more about differences in breast pumps than he’d ever need to know. He could do a pretty good commentary on the benefits of disposable diapers, the differences between brands, even the comparable pricing on them from local stores. He remembered the calm glow about her, the light in her eyes and the joy in her smile when she’d told him the first time around that they were going to have a baby.

He’d whooped right along with her, grabbing her up and swinging her around until they were both dizzy. He’d made sweet love to her, taking it easy, and yet finding no less fulfillment for having done so. She’d been so beautiful that night, more than she’d ever been. Being pregnant had completed her.

He’d been certain back then that having Tucker had completed them.

He’d been all caught up in her excitement. Letting himself get carried away with the emotion of it all. Had allowed himself to wallow in the emotional high.

But emotion was fickle. It misrepresented facts. Made things seem different than they really were.

A second daycare would provide more financial security for Mallory. She could hire someone to run it for her if she didn’t want to split her time between L.A. and San Diego. She’d have him in L.A., able to pop downstairs and check on things for her.

He wasn’t her husband anymore.

He had no right to make her decisions for her.

Which meant that he had to call her and make the offer. If she asked for his opinion, as a friend, he’d talk over her choices with her.

Decision made, he watched the clock until the half hour she usually took her lunch break, then called her. He’d had her on speed dial since he’d got a smartphone. He’d seen no reason not to continue keeping her there when he switched to newer versions.

She didn’t pick up. Not even when, fifteen minutes later, he tried a second time.

She’d have taken the test that morning. Not the previous evening. Not the next day. On this, Mallory would be following every dictate to the nth degree. She was determined and she’d do all she could to get her part exactly right.

She’d also be tending to the emotional struggles that having this baby would be sure to bring her. It wasn’t going to be easy. Fighting off fears. But she’d do what it took to be happy. She was that strong.

Which was why he loved the heck out of her.

Since waking that morning he had, on and off in the back of his mind, wondered about the results. He knew she’d call when she was ready to share them with him.

She hadn’t done that yet.

And she wasn’t answering his call. Or calling him back.

His realtor did, though, with the news that his bid had been accepted.

Sliding his phone in his jacket pocket, Braden went out to start his new life.

Chapter Eight

Though it was a difficult choice, Mallory didn’t take a pregnancy test Thursday morning. The morning was hard, and yet she’d been energized, filled with a renewed sense of purpose.

She’d been going at Mach speed so that she didn’t have time to think about the fact that her ex-husband—one of her best friends—was making an offer that, if accepted, would take him away from her.

She didn’t want to know if the test was negative. Not yet.

It wasn’t critical, either way. They’d told her that, commonly, it took more than one try. She had enough money already put aside to pay for six attempts.

She just didn’t want to be disappointed. Not on that particular day. Her mental and emotional health was something she managed carefully. It had been a tough battle for her—learning to be kind to herself. To expect enough of herself, but not too much. To accept that she didn’t have super powers that made her more accountable than anyone else.

For moral support, she called Tamara, her other best friend, and asked for a lunch date.

They met at a diner on the harbor, Mallory in her jeans and polo shirt, Tamara in a slim skirt and fitted jacket that made her look more like a glamor model than an efficiency expert.

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