Best,
Lori Levine
Project Manager
I stared at the email, with my heart racing. Where had she seen my work? How did she get my information? My mindimmediately went to Will. He was the only person who’d seen my work here in California. Could he have done this? If it was him, I was touched, but also conflicted. Taking this job could be a huge step for me, but what if it meant crossing paths with Will again? Could I handle that?
After the kids were asleep, I called Meredith to tell her about the email.
She was thrilled. “This is incredible! Natalie, this is exactly what you need.”
“But if Will was behind this…” I trailed off, unsure of how to finish the sentence.
“So, what if he was?” she said, her voice firm. “Look at it as a gift, and remember, they’re hiring you for your talents, not because of Will. Email her back. This is what you’re made for.”
I knew she was right. I slept on it, the possibilities swirling in my mind. By morning, my decision was clear. I wanted this. I deserved this.
A project like this could put me on the map and reignite a passion I’d buried for years. It was something for me, something better, something new. I opened my laptop, crafted a thoughtful response to Lori, and hit send. As the email disappeared into my outbox, I felt a glimmer of something I hadn’t felt in a long time:hope.
CHAPTER 55
LETTING GO OF PERFECT
NATALIE
Imet Lori for lunch the following week. From the moment we sat down, we hit it off. She was sharp and direct, with no time for small talk, yet she had a way of making me laugh without even trying. Her mannerisms were distinct—sophisticated, fast-talking, unapologetic. Her New York energy stood out against California’s laid-back rhythm, and I loved it.
Her enthusiasm was contagious. As she talked about the city center project, I found myself mentally sketching ideas before she even finished her sentences.
“Let’s start with the restaurants,” she said, waving a perfectly manicured hand. “Get the big stuff flowing. I want cohesion: patterns, textiles, wallpapers, all of it. It’s a premium location, so everything’s got to look like it belongs. We’ll keep it uniform but still chic. You can handle that, right?”
“Absolutely,” I replied, scribbling furiously in my notebook to keep up.
She mentioned a real estate agent handling the leases, saying I’d eventually meet with the new tenants to help bring their visions to life. I couldn’t help but wonder if that agent might be Will. She didn’t drop a name, but this opportunity had him written all over it.
Still, I pushed that thought aside. This wasn’t about Will. This was about me.
That evening, I returned home to an empty house. The kids were with Jason for the weekend, and for the first time in weeks, the solitude didn’t feel heavy. It felt freeing.
I wandered into Jason’s old office, standing in the middle of the room, taking it all in. His things were nearly gone—his books, his framed photos of Bebe and James, even his golf clubs. The chapter of our marriage was coming to an end, but surprisingly, it didn’t feel like a loss. It felt like closure. The house was mine now. Jason had wanted the kids to have a steady home base, and truthfully so did I.
We were thriving better as co-parents than we ever had as a couple. The kids had adjusted well to their new routines, and Jason and I were settling into a new dynamic, one that, strangely, made more sense than our marriage ever did.
I decided then and there: this office would be mine. My creative space.
The sadness of what was ending mixed with the excitement of what was beginning. It wasn’t just about reclaiming a room, it was about reclaimingmyself.
Later that night, I sank into a warm bath. My thoughts swirled with paint colors, wallpapers, and fabric swatches; the City Center project felt like something I was meant to do. I felt truly alive, like I was stepping into a version of myself I hadn’t seen in a long time.
And along with this major project, my new neighborhood friend Lauren asked me to design her new home, and I couldn’twait to dive into that project, too. It felt like life was finally falling into place, and the best part? I was doing it on my own.
Well, not entirely alone. James and Bebe were still my world, my constant companions. Bebe was growing more independent, and James, forever my little guy, still clung to me in the sweetest ways.
But for once, I wasn’t defined by anyone else, not Jason, not Will, not even my kids. My life was full, and I had built it.
Of course, there were still moments when my heart ached for Will. I couldn’t deny that he’d played a part in this new chapter, at least indirectly pushing me toward it, but I couldn’t dwell on that. Whether he had given Lori my name or not, by designing his home he had awakened something in me, a spark, a sense of possibility.
After my bath, I dried off, pulled on my robe, and walked into the bedroom. I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at my phone.
