Chapter 28
A SLICE OF TRUTH
NATALIE
It was Thanksgiving morning, and I woke up in knots, guilt tangling itself around me like the sheets I couldn’t escape.
The way Will and I left things made my heart hurt, like an open wound I couldn’t tend to.
On top of that, today was the day my children were meeting Brooke—the possible “other woman” in their lives who might someday have the word mom attached to her name.
The thought of it made my stomach twist painfully. I barely managed to sit on the edge of the bed, breathing deeply to keep from spiraling. My chest felt tight, my emotions threatening to overflow.
After rinsing my mouth and splashing cold water on my face, I stepped into the shower, letting the hot water pound against my shoulders.
The steam wrapped around me, and for a moment, I let myself believe it might loosen the tightness in my chest. But no matter how long I stood there, the heaviness remained, weighing me down like the water pooling at my feet.
I toweled off slowly, dragging myself back to my bedroom. As I sat on the edge of the bed, I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, unable to resist checking for a message from Will. Still nothing. We hadn’t spoken since I left his house, and the silence stung more than I wanted to admit.
When I finally opened my bedroom door, the smell of coffee and eggs greeted me, along with Meredith’s upbeat voice from downstairs.
“Morning, sunshine,” she said as I stepped into the kitchen. “I made you a very strong coffee and a protein breakfast. You’re welcome.”
“Thanks, Mere.” My gratitude was genuine, even if my voice came out tinged with sorrow. “I think we should cancel today,” I said quietly, sitting at the counter. “I feel guilty.”
Meredith turned to me, her expression both stern and soft. “We will not. You promised me British accents and a chef-prepared meal. Will is being a jealous baby, and that’s on him.”
“It’s not just Will,” I admitted, rubbing my temples. “It’s the fact that today my children are meeting her.”
Meredith reached out and squeezed my hand. “I know, sweetie, but you need a distraction. Will is going to come around, and no one can take your place—not even if Jason marries this Brooke girl.”
“Please don’t say the word ‘marriage,’” I groaned. “I can only handle so much in one day.”
“All right, fine. But first, we need to tackle the pie,” Meredith said, planting her hands on her hips with a determined smile.
I raised an eyebrow. “You do realize that ‘we’ includes you, right? And I’ve seen your attempts at baking.”
“Rude,” she shot back, already rummaging through the pantry. “I’ve watched ‘Great British Bake Off’. How hard can it be?”
We spent the next hour proving just how hard it could be.
Normally, I could follow a recipe well enough to produce something decent, but my head wasn’t in it today.
Meredith, for all her confidence, wasn’t much of a chef either.
Flour dusted the counters, sticky filling splattered onto the floor, and at one point, she managed to crack an egg directly onto the stovetop burner.
“Why is it so… gooey?” she asked, holding up her egg-covered hand like it was evidence in a crime scene.
“It’s an egg,” I said, biting back a laugh.
“Well, I don’t like it,” she declared, grabbing a paper towel.
“Maybe we should just forget the pie,” I said, dropping the spoon into the sticky dough with a sigh. “We’ll grab something from the store on the way.”
Meredith gasped dramatically, clutching her chest like I’d insulted her entire persona. “Natalie Bradford, you take that back right now.”
“I’m serious,” I said, waving at the mess on the counter. “This isn’t a pie—it’s a crime scene.”
She shook her head, picking up the dough like it wasn’t falling apart in her hands. “Nope. We’re too far in to back out now. Look at this masterpiece.”
“Masterpiece?” I raised an eyebrow. “It’s barely dough. And is that… eggshell in there?”
Meredith shrugged. “Protein.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”
“That’s why you love me,” she said, tossing a pinch of flour in my direction. “Now stop being a quitter and roll this thing out like the domestic goddess I know you are deep down.”
“I hate you a little bit right now,” I muttered, picking up the rolling pin.
“No, you don’t,” she said cheerfully. “You just hate making pies. But don’t worry—I’ll take all the credit if it turns out amazing.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“Oh, that’s easy. I’ll blame you.”
We burst into laughter, clutching our sides as tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. For a moment, the tension lifted, and I could breathe again.
When the pie was finally in the oven, we stood back to admire our questionable creation.
“Do you think it’s edible?” she asked.
“I think we should bring wine, just in case,” I said.
“Always a good plan,” Meredith agreed, grabbing a rag to wipe the counters. “Now, go upstairs and find something fabulous to wear. You can’t mope in sweatpants, Nat. Not today.”
“Fabulous is asking a lot,” I said, dragging myself toward the stairs.
“Fine,” she called after me. “Wear something mediocre, but make it work!”
I stood in my closet, staring at rows of clothes that didn’t feel right. All I wanted to wear were sweats. Finally, I settled on a black sweater, a plaid skort, and thigh-high black boots. I added some makeup, hoping it would mask the exhaustion etched into my face.
When I came back downstairs, Meredith was already waiting, dressed in a silky blouse and vegan leather leggings that made her legs look miles long. She’d paired the outfit with black Valentino booties, effortlessly chic as always.
“You look great,” she said, giving me an approving once-over.
“I’m not wearing my fat pants today, so I guess that’s an upgrade. You look incredible,” I said, smirking. “That chef’s going to want to eat you up.”
She gave a casual shrug, getting dressed to impress was second nature to Meredith.
The soft ping-ping sound of a Facetime call came through, with Jason’s name lighting up the screen. It had to be James and Bebe.
I slid Accept and brought the phone up, angling it toward my face.
“Mommy! Happy Thanksgiving!” James’s face filled the screen, his grin wide and bright. “We’re making food with Nona!”
“That sounds wonderful,” I said, smiling despite the ache in my chest. “I miss you so much.”
“I miss you more,” James replied, his little voice sounding so sweet.
Bebe appeared next, bounding into the frame in the sweater and skirt I’d picked out for her. “Hi, Mommy! Look at my earrings!” she said, showing off tiny Mickey Mouse studs. “We went to Disneyland yesterday, and Nona let us pick out something special!”
“They’re beautiful,” I said, my voice catching.
From somewhere off-screen, I heard my ex-mother-in-law’s muffled voice, likely making a snide remark under her breath. I had ruined her perfect boy’s picture-perfect life.
Before I could dwell on it, the doorbell buzzed on their end.
“Oh, Mommy! That’s Daddy’s special friend Brooke,” Bebe announced excitedly.
My stomach dropped. Meredith, sensing my reaction, snatched the phone from my hand. “Hi, Bebe! We love you so much. Call us tomorrow, okay? Happy Thanksgiving!” she said brightly before ending the call.
I stared at her, stunned. “Mer—”
“That was too close,” she said firmly. “I can’t have you spiraling today.”
“Thanks for looking out,” I mumbled, still processing what had just happened.
“Come on,” she said, grabbing the pie and handing me the wine. “We’ve got a Thanksgiving to attend.”
Meredith drove us up into the hills, the road winding steeply as we approached Lucas’ house.
It was a refurbished 1970s home, modernized with sleek lines and large windows.
When we walked up, Lucas greeted us at the door, looking nice in a charcoal gray sweater and light pants, his glasses adding a polished touch.
“Ah, here you are,” he said in his smooth British accent, holding the door open. “Do come in to our very first American Thanksgiving.”
The house smelled amazing, the aroma of rosemary, thyme, and roasted vegetables wafted from the kitchen. The dining room was beautifully set, with candles flickering and a centerpiece of fresh greenery.
“Would you like a drink?” Lucas asked, his voice smooth and welcoming. “Wine? Or perhaps something stronger?”
“I’ll take wine,” I said, offering a polite smile.
“What have you got that can handle that steep drive I just drove?” Meredith chimed in, grinning.
He handed me a glass and turned to Meredith. “You must be Meredith. I’ve heard quite a bit about you. Jasper’s been in the kitchen all morning—do you cook?”
Meredith laughed. “Not too much, I’m here to eat and pretend I helped.”
“Brilliant,” Lucas replied with a grin. “That’s the spirit.”
Jasper soon appeared; his quiet demeanor paired with charm that made him seem naturally composed. He greeted us briefly, but his attention quickly shifted to Meredith. They exchanged smiles, and before I knew it, the two of them had disappeared into the kitchen.
Lucas stayed close by, engaging me in light conversation, but I found myself distracted. No matter how kind he was, I couldn’t shake the sense that I didn’t belong here.
“Lovely view, isn’t it?” Lucas said, gesturing toward the massive windows overlooking Laguna Beach. “It’s what sold me on the place, really. Quite something, don’t you think?”
“It’s beautiful,” I said, my voice distant.
He turned to me, his expression softening. “You’re beautiful,” he said quietly.
The words hung in the air, but they didn’t land the way he intended. Instead of flattery, they felt heavy, like a weight pressing against the ache already in my chest.
“Dinner’s ready,” Jasper called from the kitchen, his voice breaking the moment.
We sat down at the beautifully set table. The food smelled incredible—roasted turkey, a variety of colorful vegetables, and our half-assed attempt at apple pie. It was perfect, but all I could think about was how much I wished I weren’t here.
Lucas sat across from me, raising his glass for a toast. “To good company and good food,” he said, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than I was comfortable with.
I clinked my glass halfheartedly, plastering on a polite smile.
The conversation flowed easily between Meredith, Jasper and Lucas, while I chimed in now and then with a quiet uh-huh or mm-hmm. The wine was good, the food even better. But none of it touched that part of me I wanted to feel stirred.
And I couldn’t help but notice who always managed to stir it.
I missed James and Bebe, too. Maybe that was part of it. I felt unanchored, like I’d drifted too far from myself.
Lucas was lovely, thoughtful, attentive, everything he was supposed to be. But I still felt like an observer at this dinner. Like I was smiling on cue, nodding along, and still waiting for it to feel real.
Across the table, Meredith had everyone laughing. I was glad she was having fun, but I couldn’t stop my gut from feeling complete guilt for being here.
Lucas tried to draw me into the conversation a few times, but I barely noticed. By the time the plates were cleared, I was ready to disappear.
I excused myself from the table and wandered back into the living room, drawn once again to the massive windows overlooking the city. My thoughts churned relentlessly, circling back to Will, to the silence between us, to the way my heart tugged painfully in his direction even when he wasn’t here.
Lucas joined me moments later, holding two glasses of wine. “For the lady,” he said, handing me one with a small smile.
“Thanks,” I said, accepting it but not drinking.
“You’ve been quiet tonight,” he said, leaning casually against the window frame. “I hope it’s not the company.”
I forced a small laugh, trying to keep the mood light. “No, of course not. It’s just been a long week. I’m not used to being apart from my children.”
He studied me for a moment, his expression softening. “Well, I hope tonight helped distract you, even a little.”
Before I could respond, Meredith came out to the living room. “Nat, can I talk to you for a second?”
Grateful for the escape, Lucas excused himself and slipped into the kitchen.
“What’s going on?” she asked quietly.
“I think I need to leave,” I said, keeping my voice low.
She raised an eyebrow. “Leave? Natalie, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said quickly. “I just… I need to go.”
Her expression shifted from surprise to understanding. “To Will’s?”
I nodded, my throat tightening. “I can’t stay here pretending I don’t know exactly where I need to be. I’ve made so many mistakes, and I need to fix this.”
Meredith studied me for a long moment, then smiled. “Then go. What are you waiting for?”
“I don’t want to leave you here alone,” I said, glancing toward Jasper.
She waved me off. “I’m fine. Seriously. Jasper seems great.”
Jasper was just walking over to the bar cart when he heard his name. He turned with a warm smile. “What can I do for you?”
“Would you be able to give me a ride home later? Natalie isn’t feeling great. She is going to head out.”
“Happy to,” Jasper said, looking to me. “Don’t worry about her.”
“See?” Meredith said, nudging me toward the door. “Go. And Nat?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t overthink it. Just tell him how you feel.”
I hugged her tightly. “Thank you.”
“Always,” she whispered. “Now go.”
I walked over to Lucas. “I’m so sorry, but I’m having an off night. I need to go. And I’m sorry if I led you on—I’m just not in a place where I can… you know.”
“I see,” he said with a small nod. “I understand.”
“Thank you for understanding. And thank you for inviting me. Sorry for ditching you with those two,” I added, nodding toward the kitchen.
“I’m used to being the third wheel,” he said with a self-depricating smile.
We hugged, and I slipped out the door into the cool night air, the breeze cutting through my sweater.
Sitting in the car, I stared down at my phone, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. Then I typed:
Natalie: Will, I was wrong. About so many things.
I hit send, my heart pounding as I started the car. I didn’t know how this would go. But I knew I’d regret it if I didn’t show up and say what I should’ve said a long time ago.