Natalie: You’re joking
Will: Let’s talk outside the gate. Like old times.
When we met up, she just shook her head, but she was smiling.
“So, how are you?” I asked.
“Just fine,” she replied.
“So… it’s Bebe’s birthday on Sunday,” I ventured.
“Yes, it is,” she said, her expression unreadable.
“Well, I’ll see you there,” I said.
She looked as pale as a ghost.
The bell rang, and the gate opened as kids poured out. Ivy and Bebe came toward us, hand in hand. James trailed behind.
“Daddy,” Ivy said, running over. “Can Bebe come over?”
“If it’s okay with her mom,” I replied, glancing at Natalie.
Natalie didn’t look thrilled, but she nodded. “All right, that’s fine. Do you have an extra booster seat?”
“Nope,” I said. “Can I come get yours?”
“Sure.” she replied absently.
As we walked toward her car, her fingers brushed against mine, a light, fleeting touch, but enough to send a jolt through me. The awareness of what had passed between us was impossible to ignore.
“I’ll bring her home if you want,” I offered.
“That’s okay,” she said. “I’ll come get her around 5:30.”
We went our separate ways, but I caught myself glancing back once before heading to my car.
The girls ran ahead, giggling. Their laughter cut through the quiet tension that still hung between us. They had no idea. No idea how I felt, no idea how different things had become.
“Can we get ice cream?” Ivy asked, already grinning.
“Let’s do it,” I said, shaking off the moment.
I took the kids for ice cream before heading back home, but even as the day moved forward, a part of me was still stuck in that space beside her, in that touch that didn’t last long enough.
CHAPTER 32
FAMILY STYLE
NATALIE
While I was on my way to Will’s to pick up Bebe, Jason called letting me know he’d be flying out early the next morning. He was using the company’s new jet which made switching flights simpler for him.
“All right, just make sure you’re actually back in time to help set up for Bebe’s party,” I said.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he replied. But his voice sounded distant, literally and figuratively.
We hung up just as I was pulling onto Will’s quiet tree-lined street. It looked idyllic at sunset. The golden light glinted off the big, beautiful homes. I parked in Will’s driveway, took a deep breath, and turned to James, buckled in the back seat.
