Chapter 4
Chapter four
Gabriel
We need to talk.
She sent it last night.
After I’d already put Maddie to bed and was halfway through convincing myself I’d imagined this whole thing.
I didn’t wait.
I texted back immediately.
Tonight?
The three dots popped up.
Not tonight. Tomorrow.
Clean. Direct. Very Natalie.
I stared at that one word for a full minute.
Tomorrow.
And I’ve been thinking about it all day.
Maddie is in the living room, sprawled sideways on the couch in mismatched pajamas, arguing with an animated octopus about sharing. The TV glows blue against the walls. The house smells like microwave popcorn and strawberry shampoo.
Normal.
Everything looks normal.
My pulse is not.
When Natalie texts We need to talk, I assume she’s saying no.
I open the thread.
Her message.
My reply.
That’s it.
No emoji. No cushion.
All day at practice I replayed it.
Not enthusiastic. Not apologetic.
Neutral.
I blow out a breath and lean my head back against the kitchen cabinets.
You pushed too hard. You showed up at her door like a lunatic. You led with marriage instead of hello.
Real Smart.
“Dad?” Maddie calls. “Are you listening?”
“Always,” I say automatically.
I'm not at all.
She squints at me. “You look like when I told you I needed poster board at 9 p.m.”
“That was a tactical surprise,” I say.
“It was for school.”
“Exactly.”
She narrows her eyes like she’s deciding whether to laugh.
I check the time.
Jenna’s in the kitchen loading the dishwasher. I can hear the clink of plates.
“I’m heading out for a bit,” I call to her.
“Okay.” she responds.
Maddie twists around on the couch. “Are you going on a date?”
“No.”
“Suspicious,” she says.
“Don’t accept yogurt from strangers,” I tell her.
She rolls her eyes. “Dad.”
I grab my keys.
“Lock the doors. No glitter experiments. I’ll be back soon,” I call over my shoulder.
***
Natalie opens the door before I knock.
Daisy bolts forward like she’s been personally waiting for me.
She skids across the hardwood, nails clicking, tail helicoptering at dangerous speed. She sniffs my shoes, my jeans, my hands like I might be smuggling contraband treats.
“Hi to you too,” I mutter, crouching to scratch behind her ears.
She licks my wrist in approval.
Natalie watches us for half a second before her expression resets.
No smile. Hair pulled back. Sweater instead of blazer. Bare feet.
Serious.
“Hi,” she says.
“Hi.”
I don’t step inside until she moves back.
Her apartment smells like lemon cleaner and something baking.
We stand facing each other like we’re about to negotiate a treaty.
“Sit,” she says first, gesturing toward the couch. “Do you want water? Tea? Something stronger?”
“Water’s fine,” I say.
She disappears into the kitchen, pours it herself, hands it to me like we’re about to negotiate a merger.
Only then does she sit across from me in a chair, spine straight.
“I’ve thought about this. A lot,” she says instead.
I nod once. “I appreciate that.”
She folds her hands in her lap, steady. “I needed to make sure I wasn’t reacting to your panic. Or mine.”
“That’s fair.”
“I kept replaying what this actually means,” she continues. “Not the optics. Not the filing. The day after. And the day after that.”
I let her talk.
“So let’s review what we already said,” she says calmly. “Maddie comes first.”
“Always,” I confirm.
“We tell Mason together.”
“Together.”
“I keep my apartment. I keep my career. We hire help properly. I’m not stepping into a childcare gap.”
“You’re not,” I say. “You’d be my wife. We build the rest on purpose.”
She searches my face, making sure there’s no desperation hiding in the corners.
“There’s no undo button,” she adds quietly.
“I don’t want one,” I answer.
She studies me for any flicker of performance.
I give her none.
“I don’t want temporary,” I add. “If I say vows, I mean them.”
Her throat moves when she swallows.
“If I do this,” she says slowly, “it’s real.”
“I don’t know how to do it halfway.”
That’s the truth. I’ve never been good at casual. I’ve never been good at pretending.
Silence stretches.
Daisy sighs like she’s bored with the pace of human decision-making.
“You understand what that means?” Natalie asks.
“Yes.”
“It means I’m not your emergency solution. I’m your wife.”
The word lands differently this time.
Not strategy.
Weight.
“Yes,” I say again.
She watches me like she’s waiting for the flinch.
I don’t give her one.
Her shoulders rise with a slow inhale.
“Okay.”
Just that.
Okay.
My lungs unlock.
I don’t grin. I don’t pump a fist like I just scored in overtime.
I step forward and pull her into my arms.
It’s instinct.
She stiffens for half a second. Then she exhales and melts just enough to count.
She fits.
That’s the first thought.
The second is more dangerous.
This feels right.
Her cheek brushes my collarbone. My hand spreads against her back. Warm. Steady. Real.
I didn’t realize how tight my chest was until this moment.
“Thank you,” I murmur into her hair.
“For Maddie,” she says.
“For us,” I correct quietly.
She doesn’t argue.
We separate before it turns into something else.
Intentional.
“We should tell her tonight,” she says.
“Yes.”
“And we take two cars.”
I blink. “What?”
“So it makes sense when I leave.”
Right.
She thinks three steps ahead. Always.
“Two cars,” I agree.
Daisy stands and trots to the door like she’s coming too.
“Not yet,” Natalie tells her.
Daisy looks personally betrayed.
Natalie grabs her coat. No hesitation now. No wobble.
We walk to our cars in parallel.
It feels absurdly adult.
***
My house looks exactly the same when we pull up.
That’s the strange part.
I half expected it to feel different.
Like the air would shift. Like the porch light would flicker. Like the universe would mark the moment I'm about to change my daughter’s life.
But it’s just the same siding. Same porch swing. Same dent in the garage door from when Maddie learned to ride her scooter.
Nothing announces what we’re about to do.
It’s just… Tuesday.
Inside, Maddie is cross-legged on the floor, building something precarious out of magnetic tiles.
She looks up.
“Natalie!”
She scrambles up so fast the tiles collapse.
“Hi, superstar,” Natalie says, crouching just enough to catch her before she launches.
Maddie hugs her like she just spotted her best friend.
I clear my throat.
“Hey, kiddo. We need to talk about something important.”
Her eyes widen immediately.
“Am I in trouble?”
“No.”
She squints at us. “Is this about the time I fed Daisy popcorn?”
Natalie glances at me. “You fed Daisy popcorn?”
“It was one piece.”
I rub my forehead. “We’ll circle back.”
Maddie flops onto the couch dramatically. “Okay. What is it?”
I sit beside her. Natalie takes the other side.
“I asked Natalie something important,” I say.
Maddie’s eyes dart between us. “Like what?”
“I asked her to marry me.”
Silence.
She freezes.
“Like… your wife….like a wedding?”
Natalie smiles softly. “A small one.”
Maddie’s face shifts from confusion to calculation.
“Do I get a dress?”
Relief bursts out of me in a short laugh.
“Yes,” I say. “You get a dress.”
“Sparkly?”
“If that’s what you want.”
She looks at Natalie. “Is Daisy coming?”
“Probably not to the actual ceremony,” Natalie says.
“Is this because you love each other?”
There it is.
The real question.
The room stills.
I don’t look at Natalie first.
I answer.
“We care about each other very much,” I say carefully. “And we’re choosing to build something together.”
Honest.
Maddie studies me like she’s checking for loopholes.
Then she turns to Natalie.
“You’re not going to leave, right?”
The words hit harder than any legal filing ever could.
Natalie slides off the couch and kneels in front of her.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she says gently. “If I marry your dad, I’m choosing this family.”
Family.
Maddie’s bottom lip wobbles for half a second before she launches forward and wraps her arms around Natalie’s neck.
Then she reaches for me with one hand.
Group hug.
Unbalanced. Too tight.
Perfect.
“Okay,” Maddie declares into Natalie’s shoulder. “Then I want cupcakes.”
“For what?” I ask.
“For being engaged.”
“We’re not technically—” Natalie starts.
Maddie gasps. “Do you get a ring? Is there kissing? Is it gross?”
Natalie laughs. I feel it through the air like static.
“It’s not gross,” she says.
Maddie narrows her eyes. “Sometimes it’s gross.”
“Not this time,” I say.
Natalie and I exchange a quick look. A small, shared smile.
She leans back, assessing us both.
“Does Uncle Mason know?”
Natalie and I exchange a look.
“Nope. We told you first. Tomorrow, we'll tell Mason,” Natalie says.
Maddie grins like she just got front-row tickets to a meltdown.
“Can I be there?”
“No, you'll be in school, but you'll see him soon,” I say immediately.
Maddie beams.
“I’m going to draw the wedding,” she announces, scrambling off the couch.
She disappears down the hall.
The house goes quiet again.
Different quiet now.
Natalie stands slowly.
I watch her the way Maddie does.
She moves through the room like she belongs here.
Like she’s already adjusted the rhythm.
That realization tightens something in my chest that has nothing to do with lawyers.
“You okay?” she asks quietly.
“Yes.”
I don’t add anything to soften it. No joke. No deflection. No ‘I’ll manage.’
I actually mean it.
I walk her to the door.
There’s a charged pause in the hallway.
We stand close enough to feel each other’s heat.
Almost.
“Hey,” I say softly before she can step back. “Thank you. For tonight. For trusting me with this.”
She holds my gaze.
“I know this is a lot,” I add. “I won’t take it lightly. I won’t take you lightly.”
I hesitate, then let myself ask. “Can I hug you again?”
She softens just slightly. “Yes,” she says.
I pull her in carefully this time, slower, giving her space to step away if she wants to.
She doesn’t.
Her arms wrap around me fully, no hesitation now, and the second hug settles deeper than the first.
It’s steadier. Less relief. More choice.
Intentional.
She meets my eyes.
“We tell Mason tomorrow,” she says.
Something shifts in her expression now. Not doubt. More like she’s already bracing for impact.
“He’s going to lose his mind,” I say.
“He’s going to assume you manipulated me,” she replies dryly.
“I didn’t.”
“I know.” She pauses. “But he’ll still threaten bodily harm.”
“I can take him.”
She gives me a look. “You think so?”
I straighten. “Yeah. I can. Doesn’t mean I want to fight him, but I can handle your brother. I’ve taken harder hits.”
She exhales through her nose like she’s trying not to smile.
“He won’t tear this apart,” she says firmly. Then softer, “He’ll yell. Then he’ll interrogate. Then he’ll realize I’m not being coerced. He loves me. He’ll adjust.”
“I’m ready for it,” I say. “Doesn’t mean I’m not bracing.”
“Good,” she says. “You should be.”
I shake my head once. “Tomorrow, then. We survive Mason.”
“Tomorrow,” she agrees.
This time when she turns for the door, it feels like we’re stepping into a second battle.
Then she leaves.
The door clicks shut.
“Dad?” Maddie calls from down the hall.
“Yeah?”
“Is Natalie going to live here?”
I lean back against the door.
“Yes,” I say. “But she’s keeping her apartment too. So sometimes she’ll be there. But mostly… she’ll be here.”
“Okay!” she shouts back. “I’m putting Daisy next to me in the picture!”
I look around the house.
The couch with the dent where Maddie always sits. The framed team photo on the wall. The hallway with scuffed baseboards from scooter wheels.
I tried to protect this.
Now I’ve invited something bigger into it.
This isn’t about custody anymore.
It’s about building something that could break me if it fails.
And for the first time since this started, I’m not thinking about California.
I’m thinking about vows.
And whether I’m ready to deserve them.