Chapter 2
I stared at the message on Denise's phone.
We need to make sure she stays home tomorrow.
Those words kept repeating inside my head.
At first, I thought I was misunderstanding something.
Maybe it was a message from the travel agency.
Maybe there was a problem with Maya's passport.
Maybe there was some explanation that didn't involve my wife deliberately excluding my daughter.
But then Denise snatched the phone from the table.
Too quickly.
Too nervously.
And I knew something was wrong.
"Who sent that?"
Denise looked at me.
"What?"
"The message."
She locked her phone.
"It's about the vacation."
I stared at her.
"I can read, Denise."
Her eyes narrowed.
"Then why are you asking?"
"Because somebody is talking about making sure my daughter stays home."
Maya lifted her head from my chest.
"Dad?"
I gently moved her behind me.
"Go upstairs, sweetheart."
She hesitated.
"Please."
Her eyes moved toward Denise.
Then she nodded and walked toward the staircase.
I waited until she disappeared.
Then I turned back toward my wife.
"Now tell me the truth."
Denise folded her arms.
"You're making a huge deal out of nothing."
I laughed bitterly.
"Nothing?"
I pointed at the table.
"You booked a family vacation without my daughter."
"Marcus—"
"You arranged somewhere else for her to stay."
She looked away.
"And now someone is sending you messages about keeping her home."
Tasha stood up.
"Mom, maybe you should just tell him."
Denise turned sharply.
"Stay out of this."
Tasha froze.
I looked at my stepdaughter.
"What do you know?"
She lowered her eyes.
"Nothing."
Denise stepped between us.
"Don't interrogate my daughter."
I felt my anger rise.
"Your daughter?"
Denise stared at me.
"What?"
"Interesting choice of words."
She frowned.
"Don't start twisting things."
I pointed toward the staircase.
"When Maya cries, you tell her she's dramatic."
I looked toward Tasha.
"But when I ask your daughter a question, suddenly you're protecting her."
Denise's face reddened.
"That's not fair."
I took a breath.
"No, Denise. What's not fair is what you've been doing to Maya."
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then Tasha whispered, "Mom told me not to say anything."
Denise spun toward her.
"Tasha!"
I looked at the girl.
She was trembling.
"Not to say anything about what?"
Tasha swallowed.
"About the tickets."
I felt sick.
"How long have you known?"
She looked down.
"Three weeks."
Three weeks.
For three weeks, my daughter had been excited about a vacation she wasn't invited to attend.
Three weeks of planning.
Three weeks of conversations at dinner.
Three weeks of Denise smiling while Maya talked about the beach.
I turned toward my wife.
"You've known for three weeks?"
Denise pressed her lips together.
"Yes."
I stared at her.
"And you let Maya keep believing she was going?"
"I was going to explain."
"When?"
She said nothing.
I shook my head.
"You're unbelievable."
Denise stepped closer.
"Marcus, there's something you don't understand."
"Then explain it."
She hesitated.
Tasha looked toward the staircase.
Then back at me.
"Mom said the trip was supposed to be just for her family."
My chest tightened.
I stared at Denise.
"What?"
Tasha continued quietly.
"She said Maya already had a family before we came."
Denise's face drained.
"Tasha, stop talking."
But I couldn't stop looking at my wife.
"Say that again."
Tasha's eyes filled.
"Mom said Maya had enough memories with you."
I felt the room tilt.
"And now it was our turn."
I stared at Denise.
She looked furious.
But she wasn't denying it.
For years, Denise had complained that Maya received too much attention from me.
She said I spoiled her.
She said I felt guilty about Angela's death.
She said Maya needed to learn that the world didn't revolve around her.
I thought she was talking about ordinary parenting disagreements.
Now those conversations sounded different.
Much darker.
I sat down slowly.
"How long have you felt this way?"
Denise looked confused.
"What?"
"That Maya already had enough of me."
She rolled her eyes.
"Marcus, don't be ridiculous."
I stood again.
"Answer me."
Denise's expression hardened.
"Fine."
She threw her hands up.
"Sometimes I feel like I'm married to a man who already has a perfect family in his head."
I stared at her.
"What does that mean?"
"It means everything is about Maya."
Her voice grew louder.
"Her feelings. Her school. Her memories of Angela."
I felt my jaw tighten.
"Angela was her mother."
"I KNOW!"
Denise's shout echoed through the room.
Then she lowered her voice.
"But I'm your wife now."
I stared at her.
"And?"
"And sometimes I want to feel like we matter more."
The words hit me like a punch.
I looked at Tasha.
She was standing beside her luggage, looking miserable.
Then I turned back toward Denise.
"You wanted Maya left behind so you could feel more important?"
Denise looked away.
"That's not what I said."
"It's exactly what you said."
She stepped toward me.
"Marcus, I love you."
I shook my head.
"Love doesn't require hurting a child."
Denise's eyes filled with angry tears.
"You always take her side."
I stared at her.
"When she's being mistreated?"
I pointed toward the staircase.
"Yes. Every single time."
For several seconds, we stood in silence.
Then Denise picked up her phone.
"I'm going to my sister's."
I nodded.
"That might be best."
She looked shocked.
"You're not stopping me?"
"No."
Her face twisted.
"After everything I've done for this family?"
I looked at her.
"We'll talk when you're ready to be honest."
She grabbed her handbag.
"Tasha, get your things."
Tasha didn't move.
Denise turned.
"Tasha!"
The girl looked at me.
Then at her mother.
Her eyes filled.
"Mom, I don't want to go."
Denise froze.
"What?"
Tasha swallowed.
"I don't want to keep pretending this is okay."
I stared at her.
Denise's face became furious.
"You're choosing him over me?"
Tasha shook her head.
"I'm choosing not to lie anymore."
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then Denise walked toward the door.
She stopped beside the table.
And looked back at me.
"You think you're such a good father?"
I stared at her.
She laughed bitterly.
"Then ask Maya why she stopped inviting her friends over."
My chest tightened.
"What?"
Denise opened the front door.
Then said something that made my blood run cold.
May you like
"Your daughter has been keeping secrets too."
And she walked out before I could ask another question.
