Chapter 39
DAMAGE CONTROL
JASON
Ileft New York with the worst hangover of my life, and more regret than I knew what to do with.
Almost sleeping with Shannon? That wasn’t a close call.
That was a wake-up call. I hated how badly I’d wanted her.
Hated the way I let things escalate. We were already on the elevator.
All I had to do was lead her to my room, and I wanted to.
But I didn’t, and now I needed to be better.
I needed to get home, get clear, and figure out what the hell I was doing with my life.
Natalie mentioned a school charity gala tonight.
I wasn’t sure I’d make it back from New York in time, but I had to try.
It felt like something I could show up for, maybe the start of something I could fix.
I moved my flight, gave Marcus a vague excuse about an emergency, and left him stunned. I’d never left work mid-deal before. Work was who I was. Yet lately, I was starting to wonder if that version of me was worth anything anymore.
When I landed in Orange County, I drove straight home and found the babysitter and kids finishing off a pizza.
I hugged Bebe and James quickly, then bolted upstairs to take the fastest shower of my life and change into my tux.
I drove myself. No Uber. No getting drunk tonight.
I needed to stay focused, needed to be a husband.
It was still cocktail hour when I arrived.
Parents posed under a balloon arch, laughing, sipping, scanning.
I spotted Natalie standing near a bar, alone.
She looked beautiful. She always had. Naturally pretty, lean, understated, she didn’t try to be the center of attention, and I’d taken that for granted.
I passed a group of whispering women and made my way to her, placing a hand gently on the small of her back.
I should’ve kissed her. I should’ve said something meaningful, but I froze.
Standing next to her felt like stepping into a scene we’d played a hundred times.
Married on paper. Polished in public. Not quite real anymore.
She seemed surprised to see me. We headed to the bar and talked with Camille and Tate. Natalie slipped easily into the conversation.
Eventually, I drifted into business talk with Tate. Natalie and Camille kept chatting nearby, and then they went to the Photo Booth. She was independent. Maybe that’s why we worked for as long as we did; we lived parallel lives without asking too much from each other.
After a while, I told her I was beat.
“We can head home.”
“I’ll grab the car, meet you out front.”
Outside, I waited at valet, checking my phone. Dozens of emails and messages. I scanned for one name: Shannon. Nothing. God, what was wrong with me? I almost cheated. I should be grateful she didn’t text, but part of me wondered… if she had, would I have responded?
Natalie appeared, snapping me out of it. The car pulled up. I tipped the valet and we headed home. The ride was mostly silent. Finally, I said, “Seems like a nice school.”
“It is,” she replied. “The kids are happy. Bebe’s going to be mildly heartbroken I didn’t win that puppy. She’d already named it Princess,” Natalie added, smiling faintly.
I almost reached for her hand, but I didn’t.
I don’t know why. Guilt, maybe. Or maybe I just didn’t feel the way I used to.
I thought about whether I should try to have sex with her tonight.
Make some kind of move, but the second I took off this monkey suit, I was out cold.
Maybe tomorrow would be better. Maybe tomorrow, everything would make sense again.