Chapter 21
IF YOU PLAY WITH THE HOT FLAME, YOU MIGHT GET BURNED
NATALIE
Icouldn’t get out of Will’s house fast enough.
The moment I stepped out of the door, I felt like I could finally breathe again, but it was shallow, like I wasn’t quite ready to face the weight of what just happened.
I could still feel the intensity of his presence, the way his touch lingered on my skin, the undeniable electricity between us.
His presence clung to me like an ember refusing to die.
Then Madison walked in, tears streaming down her face, and it was like the world slammed back into reality.
I tried to convince myself it wasn’t a big deal.
That it was just a meeting about the house, just a moment of connection, just a bit of heat between two people, but I knew better.
The way he looked at me, the way I responded to him—it wasn’t fleeting.
It was something deeper, something I shouldn’t have allowed to happen.
Madison’s face when she saw me was enough to stop me in my tracks. I could see the hurt. She didn’t understand what was going on, but I could feel her judgment. In that moment, I wasn’t just a stranger in her dad’s house.
I was someone hurting her without even meaning to. The confusion in her eyes wasn’t just about what she saw tonight. It was the unspoken fear of her world shifting in ways she couldn’t control.
I was Madison once. I was that girl who stumbled into a room and realized her parents weren’t who I thought they were. I was sixteen when my parents divorced, and it shattered the way I saw them. My sister Meredith and I didn’t know where to turn.
My mom was angry and bitter, constantly pointing out my dad’s flaws.
My dad…well, he wasn’t much better. They both made mistakes, and Meredith and I were caught in the middle, seeing them as imperfect, selfish people for the first time.
We leaned on each other, but the damage lingered.
I promised myself I’d never put my kids in that position, that I’d be different, but now, here I was, walking the same dangerous line.
Madison didn’t need to know what was happening between Will and me to feel that something wasn’t right.
And what about Bebe and James? How long before they’d start to notice the fractures, too?
How long before Will’s other kids, Chase, Carter, and Ivy, would see it as well?
Kids always know. They might not understand everything, but they feel it.
They see the shift, the tension, the secrets we think we’re hiding.
I pulled into the driveway and stared at my beautifully lit home.
The soft glow from the windows spilled out onto the lawn, illuminating the perfectly manicured landscaping I’d spent so much time designing.
It was the kind of house people dream about, the kind that’s supposed to symbolize a perfect life.
Only inside, it felt like something was missing. Something was cracked at its core.
The kids were asleep, unaware of the choices I was making. The thought made my stomach churn. I stepped inside and closed the door quietly. I paid the sitter, thanked her, and told her goodnight.
Once she left, I just stood there in the dimly lit foyer.
I didn’t even bother taking off my shoes.
Instead, I wandered into the living room and sank onto the couch.
The hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen was the only sound breaking the silence.
Then my phone buzzed beside me, and I jumped at the sound.
It was Meredith. I’d told her about the date. And right now wished I hadn’t.
Meredith: How did tonight go on your “house project?”
Natalie: Complicated.
Meredith: Complicated means interesting.
I let the phone fall onto the couch. Complicated didn’t feel interesting. It felt messy and shameful and completely out of control.
My marriage to Jason felt like a shadow of what it used to be. Jason texted earlier in the evening to say he’d landed in San Francisco for his meeting. He didn’t ask how I was or what I was doing. What was I doing?
I was stuck in this endless loop, craving something I couldn’t have and hating myself for wanting it.
I tried to think of ways to pull myself out of this spiral, to refocus on my family, but nothing came.
Will’s face, his voice, the way he made me feel all lingered, no matter how hard I tried to push these feelings away.
The clock on the wall ticked past midnight, and still I sat there motionless. The house was quiet. The kids were asleep. Everything was peaceful, but inside, everything felt like a mess.