I left Will’s question hanging and went over to her car. Her smile lit up as she started to launch into a recap of their recent trip to Mammoth.
There was a party, she went to bed early, hijinks ensued…I was trying hard to focus on what she was saying.
“Apparently, Tate got ridiculously drunk and ended up peeing off the balcony,” Camille shook her head with mock exasperation. “Quel imbécile.He thinks he’s the life of the party.”
I laughed, even though I knew Tate’s antics probably drove her crazy more often than not. He was the kind of guy everyone was drawn to, funny, quick-witted, and always good for a laugh. Everyone loved him, except maybe Camille. She did love the way he adored her, though.
As Camille launched into another story, my attention shifted involuntarily toward Will, leaning casually against his car like he didn’t have a care in the world.Why did he have to be so good looking?
His arms were crossed, his blond hair catching the sunlight, the soft waves making it look slightly tousled like he just came in from the beach. His aviator sunglasses reflected the clear blue sky, but they couldn’t quite hide the sharp intensity of his gaze beneath.
There was something magnetic about him. His confidence wasn’t loud, but it was impossible to ignore. I forced myself to turn back to Camille and nod as she wrapped up her story, even though my stomach was twisting into knots.
The sound of the school bell signaled the end of our conversation. Parents shifted their attention to the gate as it swung open, and kids began pouring out.
I walked closer to the gate, scanning the sea of little faces. Bebe came running out first, her pink backpack bouncing as she waved excitedly at me. James followed at his usual, unhurried pace, looking up at the sky as though lost in thought.
“Hey, guys! How was your day?” I asked, crouching down as Bebe launched herself into my arms.
It was only when I was buckling James into his seat that I caught sight of Will again, opening the door for Ivy. He glanced over and sent a smile that went down my spine. It wasn’t just a polite smile. It was one that seemed to know exactly what it did to me. I didn’t smile back. Instead, I climbed into the driver’s seat, bit my lip, and kept my eyes ahead.
On the drive home, Bebe chattered about her art project. I listened intently, focusing on her excitement as she described each step, drawing, adding glue, putting down glitter. She handed it to me when we reached the house, and I studied it for a moment.
“Wow, Bebe. It’s beautiful,” I said, genuinely awed by the messy, colorful creation.
“It’s a sunset,” she explained. “Because sunsets make you feel small, but in a good way.”
I blinked, surprised by her wisdom. Her words lingered as we stepped out onto the driveway of our hilltop house. It overlooked the entire valley, a perfect spot to catch sunsets just like the one Bebe had captured in glitter and glue. As I looked at the painting again, I couldn’t help but wonder if feeling small wasn’t the problem. Maybe it was knowing how big my choices could be, and how far the consequences might reach.
Back when we lived in the Midwest, sunsets didn’t have quite the same grandeur as we see here. Our house there backed up to a line of trees, and the colors of the sky barely peeked through the branches. Jason and I used to sit on the back porch with glasses of wine all the same, watching what little of the sky we could see, and those moments felt special. Now, we had this incredible view from the patio of our new home overlooking the valley, yet I couldn’t remember the last time we’d stopped to enjoy the view together.
We were drifting. With Jason gone so often, home must’ve started to feel more like a layover stop on his itinerary than anything; here for the weekend and gone by Monday morning. And for my part? I wasn’t sure if our move to California made sense anymore since he was traveling to Chicago and New York so much.
The quiet in his absence should have felt lonely, but now it didn’t. Instead, I found myself filling the space with other distractions, little moments I didn’t have to share with him. I became enthralled with daily pickups, especially if I thought I’d run into Will and get the chance to make small talk with him.
I began to understand Will’s schedule, which was every other week. Sometimes, he had a nanny or his sister get his kids. Onthe days he was there, my heart skipped a beat and my stomach fluttered like I was holding a delicious secret worth savoring.
He always made a point to talk to me, even if it was merely in passing. These small moments would buzz louder than anything else around me. It was the high of being seen by him, an intoxicating, fleeting connection laced with something I couldn’t dare say out loud. Even the most casual words made my day feel more charged. Alive.
One afternoon we were standing near the gate, waiting for the kids to come out. He opened the gate for a group of kids as they hurried past, and our arms brushed briefly. It was a fleeting touch, but it sent a current through me. I think he felt it too, as I watched his smile widen ever so slightly.
“Big plans this weekend?” he asked. His tone was light but his eyes were intensely focused on mine.
“Not really,” I replied. “Just the usual with the kids. You?”
He shrugged. “Not much. No kids this weekend, so I might relax for once.” He gave a hint of a smile, “You should try it sometime. I’m sure you could use the break.”
I nodded, suddenly aware of how warm my face felt. He didn’t look away and neither did I. Was that…an invitation? It definitely felt like something. Before I could overthink it, Bebe came running toward me, waving her lunchbox triumphantly. The moment snapped, sharp and sudden, like something in me had too.
CHAPTER 13
MIDLIFE TEMPTATION
WILL
Iwas starting to catch glimpses of Natalie’s life, of who she really was beneath the surface. Her husband wasn’t with her on a Friday night after seven, and she never mentioned him. Yet the ring on her finger told its own story. So, she was married. That fact should have been enough to keep me from wondering. But the bigger question lingered in my mind: was she happy? Or was she lonely? Could it be that her marriage had settled into something more like an arrangement than a relationship, just as mine had done?
I shouldn’t have been asking myself these questions, but I couldn’t stop.
