Chapter 27
A SHIFT IN THE FRAME
NATALIE
After leaving Will’s house in a rush—hostile, distant, acting like I didn’t care—I told myself it was for the best. I could push him away, and he’d eventually move on. Maybe fall for someone else. Maybe build a life with her in the very home I was designing.
The thought made me nauseous.
But I could fake it. Keep my head down. Finish the job. Pretend the guilt wasn’t gnawing at me every time I opened my laptop or walked through his front door.
The good thing? Design was always a reliable distraction. It gave me something to focus on, something outside myself. I could lose hours pulling together swatches, comparing tones of paint, mixing textures, imagining how a space might feel once it truly reflected the people living in it.
I moved from rugs to wallpaper. Art to accent chairs. Down to the tiny little objects people didn’t think they needed until suddenly, they couldn’t imagine the room without them.
There was something special about helping someone feel like their home was theirs. That when they walked in the door, they could take a deep breath and feel grounded. Home should hold your heart—no matter what your family looks like.
Will’s kids had already been through enough. I wanted their rooms to feel like little pockets of peace. Ivy’s space was especially fun—soft pinks, cozy corners, and a wall she could actually draw on.
Madison was trickier. She was older, opinionated, and probably had strong ideas about what she didn’t want. I treaded lightly, careful not to impose. Just offering ideas when she seemed open to it, and backing off when she didn’t.
Just as I was adjusting a swatch of pale linen next to a brass sconce for the hallway, a soft knock came at the side door.
I looked up, pulled from the quiet buzz of focus I hadn’t felt in ages. The knock came again.
I walked over to the side door off the kitchen and found Camille standing there—head to toe in black ALO, her oversized round sunglasses sliding down her tiny nose. She was holding a brown paper bag and smiling.
“To what do I owe this pleasant surprise?” I asked.
“I was out and about and picked up some bread from Rye,” she said, handing me the warm bag.
“Come on in.”
“Let’s be bad and have a slice with butter,” she grinned.
“You don’t have to twist my arm.”
She stepped inside and paused. Her eyes swept over the kitchen table, now completely overtaken—textiles, wallpaper samples, paint swatches, printed photos, open notebooks, a coffee cup long since gone cold.
“Well, well. What do we have here? The finest bachelor home makeover?”
“Something like that,” I said, feeling my cheeks warm.
Camille smiled. “I think it’s great. I like seeing you like this. You’ve found a part of you that you love again.”
She reached out, brushing her hand over one of the groupings of textiles I had carefully laid out. “These shades of gray are beautiful.”
I looked down at them—soft ash, slate, warm stone, a barely-there blush woven through the palette. All so curated. All so safe.
For a moment, I wondered if my life was becoming one big shade of gray.
Friday morning I got a text from Jason saying he’d have to reschedule our date. He wouldn’t be back until late Saturday because of a last-minute meeting, and Danny was flying in for it, too. They’d decided to catch up.
He said he’d try to fly out again late Monday so we could at least have breakfast together again, maybe even at Beachcombers, a place we really liked. I didn’t even respond. I’d been trying so hard all week to be the perfect wife, but what did it matter? I was always second to his job.
I felt spiteful. So I decided to dress nice for Will this time, even though I was going to his home just to set up some of the décor and furnishings.
I could keep my distance while still looking good and professional at the same time.
I went with a fitted light blue dress and tall white boots, curling my hair into loose waves.
I was genuinely excited about the things I’d found for the kids’ rooms, Madison’s room especially.
Again, Will opened the door before I even made it up the steps. “Hey, let me give you a hand.”
No more dropped samples this time, I thought.
We carried everything inside, and I started putting it all together. Will popped in to check on me while I was in one of the boys’ rooms, struggling a bit to hang up a heavy signed Aaron Donald jersey.
“Let me help,” he said, taking the weight.
Together, we got it up on the wall. I could see the room feel more alive. And Will aside, I felt good about what I was doing here.
When we were finished, we both went downstairs.
“I can’t thank you enough for this,” he said, handing me a check. I opened it, and was surprised to see it was for ten thousand dollars. I hadn’t even given him a price yet, and I was only a third of the way done.
“This is too much,” I protested.
“It’s really not,” he said. “You’re really helping me here.”
His genuine gratitude relaxed me.
“I’ve got a few more minutes,” I said. “Want me to show you everything I’ve done so far?”
“Sure,” he said, following me around the rooms, but I could tell he was looking at me more than the spaces.
We were in his room when he did something that surprised me more than that check. He stepped in close to me, touched the freckle on my nose, and said, “I love that freckle.”
I tried to be casual about it. I laughed. “I used to hate it.”
He paused, his finger lingering a moment longer on my skin before he pulled back. I felt the weight of his gaze, and I looked down, trying to focus on the next décor item I wanted to explain to him, but when I started to leave the room, Will stepped in front of me, blocking my path.
His breath was warmer now, closer. I could feel the pull, the electricity in the air that seemed to thrum between us, tightening with every second. He was standing too close, unspoken words swirling in the space between us. I swallowed, trying to steady my thoughts.
“You’re always so careful with everything… like you’re afraid to let go.” His voice was low.
I felt my pulse quicken. I felt a mix of panic and anticipation and I knew I should pull away, step back, but instead, we were drawn closer together, as if there was some magnetic force, impossible to resist.
He didn’t move, waiting for me to make a choice. My hands were trembling, but I reached up without thinking, touching his face. He didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned into my touch. Slowly, I lifted myself onto my toes, bringing my lips to his.
It was soft at first. A simple meeting of lips that turned deeper, hungrier. His hand came to my back, pulling me closer, and for a moment, everything else disappeared, the house, the kids, Jason. It was just him and me.
But then, reality rushed back, and I pulled away, breathless, shocked by what I’d just let happen.
“Pick-up time,” I stammered. “We have to get to school. I rushed down the stairs, and out the door so fast that I left the check behind.
On the drive to school, he called me.
I answered with no hello. “Will, I can’t do this. I need to be there for my family.”
There was a long pause before he responded. “Okay…If that’s what you want, I’ll leave you alone, but I can’t promise I’ll stop thinking about you.”
“Me either,” I said quietly, then hung up.
At school pickup, we pretended nothing happened, although I had to look away when I saw him across the crowd. I couldn’t let myself be sucked into the pull of those baby blues anymore.
Bebe and Ivy came out together, running towards me.
“Can we have a playdate?” They asked in unison.
Will was already walking towards us, and he heard the pleas from the girls.
“Maybe not today, Ivy,” he began but I interrupted.
“Ivy could come to our house,” I said, surprising him. I didn’t want to interfere with their friendship, even if it made things complicated.
“I’ll come get her before dinner, if that works?” Will asked.
“No problem,” I said politely and took the kids back to my car. I felt like I was turning switches on and off with my emotions; I couldn’t keep up with which Natalie I was supposed to be, the perfect mom hosting playdates or the bad wife wanting to get under the hot divorced dad.
Will texted me around five-thirty, saying he’d come by to pick up Ivy. When he arrived, the girls were upstairs, and James was playing Legos in his room. We were alone.
“Can we talk?” he asked.
“Not here,” I said.
“Then call me later,” he replied. “Or…is your husband home tonight?”
I nodded. “I’ll call when I can.”
Our eyes met, and once again, I had to look away.
Later that evening, I called Will from Jason’s office—somehow, I’d ended up there, trying to justify what I’d done or was about to do by digging for evidence of Jason’s own probable indiscretions.
I wasn’t sure what I was looking for. Maybe just a reason to be mad.
I shuffled through the papers on his desk but couldn’t focus on anything I was looking at.
My mind kept drifting back to the kiss, to Will’s touch, and the feeling of intense desire that I couldn’t shake.
Will answered, “Hi, I wasn’t sure if you were going to call.”
“I shouldn’t be calling,” I said, sounding almost angry. What was I angry about? Him? Me? This?
“I think you feel the same way I do. We’ve both felt it since we met.”
“Will…” I said, then paused, trying to find the words. “When I was sixteen, my parents divorced, and my dad remarried right away. I hated my stepmother. I never want to be that to someone’s kids, and you have four children. I have two. I can’t imagine merging our lives like the Brady Bunch.”
Will sighed. “Six kids… It’s a lot,” he admitted.
“I think we’re just drawn to each other, and I’m letting that pull me in too far. We need to step back.”
And before he could even answer, right on cue, my phone buzzed. It was Jason calling.
“I have to go. I am sorry,” I said, and I hung up.
I switched over to Jason. But it wasn’t him.
“Hi, it’s Danny,” he said, surprising me. “Jason passed out, but I wanted to let you know he’s okay. We just had a little too much to drink. I didn’t want you to worry if he was supposed to call you tonight.”
I thanked him, feeling a mix of relief and frustration.
The words of my conversation with Will were still lingering.
There was only one thing to do. Call my sister. Meredith listened to me spill out everything and she said simply, “I’m booking a flight and coming to see you tomorrow.”
My sister was on her way, my lifeline in the mess I felt like I was drowning in.