Chapter 11 Natalie
Chapter eleven
Natalie
Three weeks into marriage and the strangest part is how normal everything feels.
I am standing in Gabriel's kitchen at six thirty in the morning wearing fuzzy socks and his Nashville Outlaws hoodie while Daisy patrols the floor like a tiny furry security guard.
Maddie is arguing about socks. Gabriel is making coffee like it is the only thing standing between him and complete collapse.
"These socks are itchy," Maddie announces for the fourth time.
"They are not itchy," Gabriel says, opening the fridge.
"They're emotionally itchy," she insists.
I choke on my coffee.
"Emotionally itchy?" I ask.
"Yes," Maddie says seriously. "Like when teachers say group projects are fun."
Gabriel looks at me. I look at him. We both lose the battle and laugh. He nods toward my sweatshirt. "Nice hoodie," he says. "Pretty sure that belongs to me."
"Borrowed," I say. "Indefinitely. Especially on cold mornings. Wifey privileges."
"Interesting," Gabriel says.
Heat creeps up my neck and I suddenly find the kitchen counter very interesting as I stare directly at it like it might save me.
Daisy takes this moment to shove her nose under Maddie's chair hoping for breakfast scraps.
"Daisy," I say. "You already ate."
She looks at me with the patience of a saint who knows I'm wrong.
Gabriel slides a mug toward me across the counter without even thinking about it.
"Coffee," he says.
Our fingers brush when I take it. He squeezes my shoulder lightly as he moves past me.
Just a quick press of his hand.
Nothing dramatic.
Still my stomach flips like I just rode a roller coaster.
We have been married almost a month and somehow we are still acting like coworkers who accidentally kissed at a company holiday party.
Gabriel hustles Maddie toward the door ten minutes later.
"Backpack," he says.
"Got it."
"Lunch."
"Got it."
"Homework."
"Emotionally itchy socks," she mutters.
I laugh as they reach the front door.
"Bye Natalie!" Maddie shouts. "Tell Daisy not to eat my crayons!"
"No promises," I call back.
Gabriel pauses in the doorway. For half a second we just look at each other.
"See you tonight," he says.
"See you tonight."
Neither of us moves.
Then Maddie tugs his arm.
"Dad we're going to be late."
The door closes.
Daisy and I both stare at it like we are waiting for something else to happen.
She sighs and flops down on the rug.
"I feel that," I tell her.
***
By ten o'clock I'm working at the dining table while Daisy naps at my feet like a loyal assistant who contributes absolutely nothing to productivity.
My phone buzzes.
Gabriel: Did Daisy steal Mr. Pickles off Maddie's bed again?
I smile.
Me: He started it.
Gabriel: Mr. Pickles has always had questionable judgment.
Me: Your loyalty disappoints me.
Gabriel: I trust the dog.
I stare at the screen longer than necessary.
Then my phone rings.
"Hi," Gabriel says when I answer.
Just that. Hi.
The word somehow makes my day brighter.
"Hi," I say.
"Just checking in," he says. "Days are so much easier when Maddie remembers her lunch."
"Heroic parenting achievement," I say.
He laughs quietly.
"How's your day?"
"Busy. Daisy is supervising by snoring."
"Poor dog," he says.
I grin at the ceiling while he talks about practice and a teammate who tried to microwave a protein bar.
The conversation lasts maybe two minutes, ending with Gabriel saying he will be home earlier tonight and he will cook pasta with broccoli since we had chicken last night.
Still when the call ends I sit there smiling like an idiot.
***
When I get home from an afternoon meeting, the house hits me with warmth and noise the second I open the door.
Garlic. Butter. Something simmering.
And Maddie in the kitchen, standing on a stool like she's hosting a cooking show.
"Natalie!" she yells. "Daddy and I walked Daisy and he let me hold the leash all by myself."
Daisy barrels into my legs at full speed, tail whipping like a flag. "Hey, girl," I say, bending down to scratch behind her ears. "Did someone have a big walk today? That deserves a premium doggie din din." Daisy thumps her tail against the floor like this is the best news she has heard all day.
Gabriel appears from the stove holding a wooden spoon, his sleeves pushed up, hair slightly messy like he has been running drills but with pasta.
“Hey,” he says, and his voice does something very inconvenient to me.
"Hi," I say, suddenly aware I'm still wearing my work coat and I'm standing in the middle of his kitchen like I belong here.
"You made it," he says. "Dinner's almost ready."
"Broccoli," Maddie repeats like it's a threat.
Gabriel just smiles and keeps stirring the pasta like this conversation has happened a hundred times before.
I lean against the counter and watch them.
Maddie making dramatic speeches about vegetables.
Gabriel pretending to be a serious chef while sneaking bites of pasta to test it.
Daisy circling the kitchen like she is part of the dinner committee.
It’s easy.
Ridiculously easy.
Like I have always been standing in this kitchen at the end of a long day listening to Gabriel and Maddie argue about broccoli.
"Broccoli makes people strong," Gabriel says.
"Broccoli makes people suspicious," Maddie replies.
I laugh.
"Compromise," I say. "Broccoli makes your body strong. Ice cream later makes your heart happy."
Maddie considers this like a tiny lawyer reviewing a contract.
"With whipped cream," she says.
"Naturally," I say.
Daisy wedges herself between us and sits like she has been summoned to judge the deal.
"See," I tell her. "Everyone wins."
Maddie hugs Daisy's neck. "If there’s broccoli," she tells the dog solemnly, "we stick together."
Daisy gives Maddie her paw and a big sloppy kiss.
For a second I just stand there watching them and feeling something warm.
Not panic.
Not uncertainty.
Something softer.
Something that feels a lot like belonging.
I shrug off my coat, wash my hands, and slide into the flow like this has been my life forever.
Maddie launches into a twenty minute story about recess that includes a dramatic betrayal involving a jump rope, a best friend named Emma, and a rule violation that apparently required immediate legal counsel.
Gabriel serves the pasta while pretending he understands every detail.
Daisy positions herself beside Maddie's chair like a professional crumb collector.
"She’s staring at my noodles," Maddie says.
"She respects your culinary choices," Gabriel replies.
"She's planning a crime," Maddie insists.
I laugh so hard I almost drop my fork.
For a second I forget this whole thing started as a strategic marriage. And maybe that is exactly what I hoped would happen.
***
Later the house is quiet.
Maddie is asleep upstairs.
Daisy is stretched across the living room rug like a furry throw pillow.
I wander downstairs in pajamas.
Gabriel is already on the couch watching television.
He glances up.
"Want to watch TV?"
"What are we watching?"
"Some reality show where people date while covered in body paint."
"That sounds like terrible life choices," I say.
"Exactly," he says. "Come sit."
He shifts slightly so there is room.
I sit beside him.
Our shoulders almost touch.
On the screen a man painted like a zebra is attempting to flirt.
"No," I say immediately.
"Absolutely not," Gabriel agrees.
"That woman deserves hazard pay."
"He neighed at her," Gabriel says.
I bury my face in my hands.
"This is the worst show ever."
"I know, but I can't look away," he says.
"You're right."
We watch for another minute before I glance at him.
"You have been weirdly calm lately," I say.
"That's suspicious?"
"Extremely."
He laughs softly.
Then his gaze drifts around the living room.
"The house feels different," he says.
"Different good or different terrifying?"
"Both."
He leans back against the couch.
"It used to feel like Maddie and me against the world," he says quietly.
Then he looks at me.
"Now it feels like a team."
My throat tightens.
"I was terrified," he continues. "About the custody stuff. About everything."
"I know," I say.
"Thankfully my ex has calmed down about that, but I didn’t expect this to feel so real," he admits.
I stare at the TV where a man is now howling like a wolf.
"Honestly," I say, "I expected this to feel temporary."
"Does it?" he asks.
I hesitate.
"No."
Our shoulders touch.
Neither of us moves away.
Daisy snores loudly from the rug.
"Your dog is broken," Gabriel whispers.
"She had a big day," I whisper back.
"Of sleeping."
"It's exhausting keeping up with new smells, Maddie, and Mr. Pickles," I say.
We both laugh.
Then the laughter fades and the room goes quiet again.
Gabriel's voice softens.
"You've made this place better," he says.
My chest does this stupid little flip when he says that, like my heart just got caught off guard.
"Careful," I say lightly. "You say things like that and Daisy is going to think she has competition."
He glances at the dog stretched across the rug.
"She already thinks she runs the house," he says.
"She does," I say. "We just live here."
We go quiet for a second.
Then he says something that hits deeper.
"You know, I meant what I said that night."
"Which part?"
"That I wanted you as a partner."
My heartbeat speeds up.
His hand brushes mine on the couch.
I don't move away.
Our fingers slide together naturally.
Like they have been doing this for years.
I rest my head against his shoulder before I can overthink it. "Looks like we're becoming a pretty good team," I murmur. Gabriel goes very still beside me, then slowly turns his head like he's studying my face.
"You’re the one who said we shouldn’t rush," I remind him.
"I’m reconsidering," he says quietly.
I laugh softly.
Then he lowers his head and kisses me.
The kiss starts slowly.
Careful.
Like we're both testing the moment.
Then something shifts.
Three weeks of careful distance disappears all at once.
I pull him closer.