Chapter 18
SLIPPING AWAY
JASON
I’d always been the guy who kept things moving. There was always something to get done, another deal, another meeting, another phone call. Life didn’t wait. I built this life, this perfect, seamless life, and I’d worked my ass off for it.
But now I could sense Natalie drifting, not from frustration, which I’d understand, I was frustrated, too.
This was more like…detachment. Like she accepted I was constantly busy, always somewhere else.
Could I even blame her? I was constantly chasing after bigger and better things, thinking providing was enough. But I knew it wasn’t. Not anymore.
I didn’t think she was angry with me. I am not sure she even noticed how much I’d pulled away from her, at least not in a way that would make her upset. She had her own distractions now, maybe more than I did.
My distraction was Shannon. One of the best hires we’d made in years.
Shannon was everything you could want in a team member. She was sharp, driven, and endlessly resourceful. She came heavily recommended, and those recommendations were fully justified.
I remembered the day Shannon walked into the office for her interview.
From the moment she stepped in, she exuded confidence.
Her handshake was firm, her eye contact unwavering, and she carried herself with an ease that made us sit up and pay attention.
She wasn’t there to prove herself. She was there to show us what she could offer, and it was a lot.
“I’m not just here to do a job,” she said at one point in the interview, leaning forward slightly. “I’m here to make an impact. If you’re looking for someone to just keep things running, I’m not your person, but if you’re looking for growth, strategy, and results, then I’m all in.”
It wasn’t often we came across someone with Shannon’s level of confidence and capability. By the end of the meeting, everyone in the New York office agreed with me. We had to have her on the team.
Still, Shannon didn’t accept right away. “I need a day to think it over,” she said. “This is a big step, and I want to make sure it’s the right fit for both of us.” I respected her for that. She wasn’t just chasing the next opportunity.
When she called the next day to say she was in, I was thrilled.
From the moment she started, Shannon proved she was every bit as good as she’d claimed, and then some.
She threw herself into her work with a focus and energy that was contagious.
This young, ambitious woman was here to excel.
Youngest of two kids, a divorced household, she excelled at NYU, earned an MBA, landed a coveted role at KPMG as a consultant but got worn down by it.
She wanted more freedom to lead projects on her terms, she told me, during one of our late-night conversations.
I told her she could go home, I had the latest late-night emergency covered but she just smiled and told me what her stepdad had taught her.
“He used to say, ‘Don’t just show up—show out.’ That stuck with me. ”
I came to rely on her more than I probably should have. She wasn’t trying to prove herself; she knew her value, and so did everyone else around her.
Working with her was honestly exciting. I was preparing her to run the New York office so I could eventually take over the West Coast and focus on expanding the business there. And be home more. At least that was the plan.
Late nights with Shannon became a routine, ordering takeout, sometimes grabbing a drink or a bite to eat after hours.
Somewhere along the way, our conversations shifted.
She started confiding in me about her personal life.
“Dating is a waste of time. Most single guys are so…immature. Or uninspiring. There’s just not time to meet someone who is established.
Confident. Sure of himself. That’s what I want, honestly. It’s what I deserve,” she said.
She held my gaze just a second too long. She didn’t say these words but I knew she meant them. Someone like you. The way she looked at me made it impossible to look away. And I didn’t want to. I was feeling something for her.
I’d go back to my hotel room after those late nights, thinking about her, and then I’d take care of those feelings on my own, all by myself.
I wasn’t actually with her, but the guilt came creeping in afterward anyway.
And even when I was home, she lingered in my mind, her sharp wit, those dark eyes that always seemed to be studying me, her sleek hair always perfectly blown out, and those suits…
the way they fit, the way they highlighted everything.
I tried to shake the thoughts away but they always came back.
She was just someone I worked with, a person I could talk to about things I didn’t feel comfortable sharing with Natalie. She understood me, and for the first time in a while, I felt like someone really saw me.
With Shannon, it wasn’t about what I could give her or how I could take care of her. She didn’t need anything from me and wasn’t demanding my attention like Natalie sometimes did. It was easy. Natural. Maybe that was what I was craving, a break from trying so damn hard to keep everything perfect.
It wasn’t that I didn’t love Natalie. I did.
I think I still do. But somewhere along the way, I lost track of what mattered.
I didn’t know if I was chasing the wrong things, or if I just got too comfortable with how things were.
Either way, it had been a long time since I’d really looked at her, really noticed her.
I didn’t want to hurt Natalie. I didn’t plan to, but with Shannon, I felt something different. Something I didn’t expect. Nothing had happened yet. But it could. I knew it could. If I was willing to cross that line.
I think, deep down, Natalie knew something had changed, but it was like she didn’t care enough to question it.
Or maybe she was just…preoccupied. Sometimes she talked to me like she was there but not really present.
I didn’t know if it was because of what was happening with me, or if it was something else entirely.
She seemed to be doing her own thing more and more. Not that I minded, really. It made it easier to avoid the conversations I knew we needed to have. But I didn’t think I was fooling her. She knew. She had to. The distance was palpable, even if we didn’t acknowledge it.
I used to think I had all the answers. I used to be the steady one, but now I was just trying to hold everything together, even as it started to unravel. When I came home at the end of the day or from a trip, she was there, just like always.
She smiled at me, told me about the kids and her day, and I did the same. We talked about the trivial things we’d always talked about, that families share, right? But it was not the same. We were not the same.
I didn’t know if I could fix this. I didn’t even know if I wanted to, but I knew one thing. I wasn’t the only one slipping away.