𝙎𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙆𝙎; 𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙠 𝙨𝙡𝙤𝙖𝙣 (𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦)

Prologue

There was a part of Natalie that loved dramatics. She never admitted it out loud.

To the world, she was the practical young mother whose entire life was scheduled in a spiral bound leaflet of being responsible.

But sometimes, lying in bed with her husband a foot away from her, snoring after a Fast and Furious marathon, she was overcome with an undirected fury to just... have something happen in her life. Something that didn't happen to her normally. Something she wouldn't expect.

Maybe a hoard of vampires could come whooshing in and threaten to drown the house in blood and she could smash them with her bare hands.

Maybe she could get a big promotion that required her working in the arctic. A polar bear could attack her and she could escape with all digits intact.

She'd waited for the day something would change her life and make her different.

The day it happened, she'd brought Fell's Chow Mein. She hated Fell's Chow Mein. But she had picked it up anyway because for whatever insipid reason, she liked her husband and put up with his tastes (after all, she was one of them).

The grueling day at work actually had her almost groveling for patients. As much as she hated to admit it, her practice was failing and more than it saddening her, she was irritated. At this rate, Amber was going to be her only accomplishment.

( Well, she was proud of that, but Natalie felt too much potential in her to stop at one success. )

And so when Isaac was at the table instead of by the TV setting up his stress-buster game console, Natalie thought nothing of it.

"Here you go mister," she'd sighed with a knowing smile, half-disgusted and half-fond, just how she had been with their relationship, "Fell's chow mein, down to the last disgusting noodle—"

"Nat..."

She continued. No one interrupted the Turner women. "Hey, let me finish! Amber's going to be back from Tasha's house—"

"Nat—"

"And we need to give my Seattle offer some thought—"

"Nat! Stop!"

So she did.

Isaac never really wanted anything to stop. Ever. He was wishful like that, she thought. Not greedy, just... he wanted to take more of everything so there was enough: enough information, enough plan Bs, enough food, enough outfits, enough god-knows-what.

"...Okay."

"Sit."

She frowned. She hadn't taken off her heels yet.

"Please."

She made her way to the table, hating the way the heels scratched on the wood after the day she'd had. Isaac's hand caught onto her elbow and he nudged her into the chair beside him.