Chapter 17
LOOKING FOR TROUBLE
NATALIE
As soon as I left Will’s car, I knew I was hooked. The easy way we talked, the way his eyes lingered just a second too long, it all felt electric.
As I walked to the door, feeling a little bad that I hadn’t looked earlier, I checked my phone to see if Jason had called or texted me. He hadn’t.
The lack of communication made me feel slightly less guilty, but still, I knew I basically just went on a date tonight.
A part of me wanted to justify it, call it a work meeting, nothing more.
But the truth was undeniable. I liked the attention.
I liked the way Will looked at me, as if I were someone exciting, someone he couldn’t resist.
I paid the sitter and headed to bed. My mind was spinning, replaying every moment with Will.
I started thinking of him in ways I shouldn’t, wondering how his touch might feel, how our lips would fit together, and what it would be like if we took things further.
My curiosity was relentless, a nagging voice urging me to imagine the impossible.
Eventually, I drifted off to sleep, but my dreams were restless. I woke up to the blaring alarm with a headache and the dull haze of a slight hangover. My stomach churned with a mix of guilt and anticipation. Would I see him later today?
The morning routine with the kids was a blur of cereal bowls, backpacks, and finding missing shoes.
After dropping them off at school, I met Camille at Pilates, hoping the workout would clear my head.
But the reformer felt like my enemy today.
I was one wrong move away from collapsing into the springs beneath me.
Camille took one look at me and gave a knowing smile.
“Late night?” she asked as we stretched.
“You could say that.”
Her eyebrows arched. “Do tell.”
I shook my head, avoiding her gaze. “Later.” I couldn’t help but grin.
The workout was brutal, and I was counting the seconds until the instructor finally called it quits. By the time it was over, I was drenched and desperate for caffeine. I invited Camille for coffee.
As we settled into a corner table at our favorite café, I decided to tell her the truth—or at least part of it.
“I took on a new design project,” I began, keeping my tone casual.
“Oh?” Camille’s curiosity was piqued. “Who’s the client?”
“A dad from school,” I said, trying to sound indifferent. “Recently divorced.”
Her eyes widened, and she leaned in. “And?”
“And nothing,” I lied. “We had drinks to go over the project, but we didn’t talk about it much.”
She arched her eyebrows. “So, it wasn’t a date, but it wasn’t not a date?”
I hesitated, then nodded. “Maybe.”
She studied me for a moment. Her expression was thoughtful. “Are you attracted to him?”
The question caught me off guard. “How can I not be?” I said, surprised by my honesty.
“Ah, the attraction,” Camille said, smiling like she’d caught me red handed. “True, he is very handsome.” Camille left it at that and didn’t press me further. But it was clear, even though I hadn’t named him, she knew exactly who my new client was.
I stirred my coffee, pretending to be distracted by the foam. “Anyway,” I said, forcing a lighter tone, “I think I’m going to redo a room of my own. The laundry room. I’m sick of staring at that awful tile.”
Camille tilted her head, amused but kind enough to let me change the subject. “It’s about time,” she said. “That tile is a crime against design.”
We talked about backsplash samples and storage hacks for another ten minutes before I glanced at the time and stood up to leave. “I should get home. Dreadful room or not, my laundry isn’t going to fold itself.”
Camille gave me a hug, and when she released me, her eyes were still searching for mine. “You know where to find me.” Her sentiment was a reminder that I had her friendship no matter what.
Back home, I tossed my keys onto the counter and stared at the growing mountain of laundry. The hum of silence settled over the house, too quiet, too still. I grabbed my phone and scrolled to my sister Meredith’s name.
“Hello there,” she said when she picked up, drawing out the words like she already knew something was up.
“Hey,” I replied, flopping onto the couch. “Got a minute?”
“For you? Always.”
There was a beat of silence before I sighed. “Jason and I have been…distant.”
“And?” she prompted. Her tone was laced with curiosity.
“And I picked up a new design client,” I said, changing the subject. “Single dad, recently divorced.”
Meredith didn’t miss a beat. “A new client, or a hot new client?”
I groaned. “Why would you assume he’s hot?”
“Because if he wasn’t, you wouldn’t be calling me about it.”
I sighed, giving in. “His name is Will. He’s…easy to talk to.”
“Sounds dangerous,” Meredith said with a laugh. She was teasing me, but her voice was laced with just enough seriousness to make me uneasy.
I groaned. “You’re not helping.”
“Ok, I’ll try harder. You said Jason and you have been distant. Why? Work? Or does Mr. Serious have a fling of his own?”
I hesitated just long enough for her to pounce.
“Wait. Is there another woman?” Her voice sharpened.
I exhaled. “Honestly, I don’t know. There’s someone he works with in the New York office. I think her name is Shannon. Maybe Shannon O’Connell.”
Jason cheating? I guess anything was possible.
Meredith hummed knowingly. “Shannon O’Connell, huh? All right, give me a minute, and I’ll find everything there is to know about this hoe.”
“Meredith!” I gasped, half-laughing, half-scolding. “We don’t know that anything’s even going on!”
“You know I live for this stuff,” she said unapologetically. “I’ll have her LinkedIn, Facebook, Instagram, and probably her ex-boyfriend’s playlist shortly.”
“Meredith…” I groaned again, but deep down, I was grateful. She was the one person who wouldn’t judge me for my paranoia—or for needing answers. Her words lingered as I hung up.
At school pick-up, I spotted Kelly, standing near the gate. Of course, this was her week, not Will’s. Her white sweater and loose jeans made her look like she had walked out of a catalog. I watched her for a moment with a mix of jealousy and curiosity bubbling inside me.
What did she think of Will now? Did she see him the way I do?
Bebe and James came bouncing out and snapped me out of my haze.
When I got home, I decided to order takeout. My hangover hadn’t eased, and I was too drained to cook.
Jason arrived home around dinner time, and for once, he was surprisingly engaged with the kids, which caught me off guard.
I heard James squealing with delight as Jason lifted him into the air, twirling him around like he was weightless.
Bebe jumped in, too, throwing herself onto Jason’s back and giggling as she tried to wrestle James off.
“Hey! No double-teaming!” Jason laughed, pretending to stagger under their weight. He collapsed onto the couch, pulling both kids down with him in a pile of limbs and laughter. I couldn’t help but smile as I watched them. Jason looked…happy.
His tall frame filled the room, his dark hair slightly mussed from the long day. The olive tone of his skin glowed under the warm light, accentuating his sharp, chiseled features. He was still undeniably good-looking, and moments like this reminded me why I fell in love with him in the first place.
But then, a pang of something sharp and bitter settled in my chest. I thought of Shannon.
If he was really having an affair with her, did she ever see this side of him, too?
Or was she drawn to the confident, polished version of Jason, the one who commanded a room and solved problems with ease?
I didn’t even need to ask if she was attracted to him.
How could she not be? He was the type of man people noticed; he tended to attract attention regardless of his intentions, and whether he was trying or not.
The thought made my stomach twist, and I forced myself to step into the room, shaking off the feeling. All of this was pure speculation.
Jason was so immersed in playing with the kids that he didn’t notice me at first. It was nice to see him like this, present and fully engaged, but it also stung. Where was this version of Jason when it was just the two of us?
“Come on, Dad! You can’t beat us!” Bebe yelled, trying to pin Jason’s arms while James jumped onto his chest.
“Oh, you think so?” Jason replied, flipping both kids onto the couch cushions, leaving them shrieking with laughter.
We ate around the kitchen table, the kids regaling us with stories of their day. It felt familiar, comfortable even, but there was still a chasm between Jason and I couldn’t quite bridge.
After dinner, Jason volunteered to do the dishes. I was stunned but grateful, though a part of me wondered if it was guilt motivating him.
“Long day?” I asked, leaning against the counter as he loaded the dishwasher.
He nodded without looking at me. “Yeah. Traffic was a nightmare, and the New York team keeps dragging their feet on deadlines. It’s exhausting.”
Just then my phone dinged. Meredith. I’d almost forgotten her promise to sleuth. She’d sent a photo of a beautiful, polished woman, Shannon.
I hadn’t expected her to look this manicured. Even her posture looked deliberate. She looked like someone who never ran late, who never lost her cool, unless it was over a million-dollar deal. She looked smart.
Was she someone who made the long days go by fast? Maybe she was someone he could talk to when everything got overwhelming, someone who didn’t come with backpacks and bedtime routines.
I turned my screen off, and dropped it on the counter.
“You and the kids had fun tonight,” I said, pushing my thoughts aside.
“They’re growing up too fast. His voice grew softer now. “I feel like I’m missing everything.”
The words hung heavy between us. I wanted to tell him he was missing something—us. But I didn’t.
After the kids were asleep, Jason and I climbed into bed ourselves and put on a movie.
He chose some action thriller I didn’t care about, and within minutes, I was half-asleep, my head heavy with exhaustion.
We lay there, side by side, like strangers who used to know each other.
The distance didn’t show up all at once.
But now that I saw it, I couldn’t pretend it wasn’t there.