Chapter 4
Serena sent me copies of the messages she had found.
I read them at Imani’s kitchen table.
In one, Andre had written that I was “getting attached” and he was trying to keep his distance. On the same day, he had sent me three messages asking when we could meet.
Serena had included the dates and times. She had also sent the messages to Marcus.
I called her.
“Thank you,” I said.
“I didn’t do it for you.”
“I know.”
There was a long pause.
“I’m sorry you’re in this position,” I added.
“You helped put me here.”
“Yes.”
She hung up soon after. I did not blame her.
I sent Marcus a short message telling him Andre had contacted me from another number and that I had kept it. Marcus replied an hour later.
Serena showed me. Don’t contact Andre. I’ll decide what I need to read.
I wrote, Okay.
I had begun to understand that answering him quickly did not make my earlier silence any smaller.
At my clinic appointment, I sat among strangers in a waiting room and filled out forms. It was a practical consequence of what I had done. I wanted to rush through it, but the questions required me to slow down and be honest. I followed the clinician’s advice about testing and follow-up, then sent Marcus only the information that affected him.
Later, I met my mother for lunch.
Imani had told her enough to explain why I was staying over. I filled in the rest before our drinks arrived.
My mother listened with her hands folded around a glass of water.
“I raised you to come to me when you’re in trouble,” she said.
“I was ashamed.”
“You still could have come.”
“I know.”
She looked tired. “Are you hoping Marcus will forgive you?”
“Yes.”
“Then be careful what you ask of him. He needs room to make his own choice.”
I stared at the tablecloth. “I know that too.”
She reached across and took my hand.
“I love you, Nia. I’m disappointed, and I love you.”
I held on until the server came.
That evening, Andre appeared outside Imani’s building.
I saw him from the kitchen window. He stood beside a car, looking up at the windows with his phone in his hand.
Imani joined me.
“Did you ask him here?”
“No.”
My phone rang from another unknown number. I let it ring.
He called again.
Imani went down with the building manager while I stayed upstairs. Through the window, I saw her speak to Andre. He tried to look past her toward the entrance. The manager pointed toward the street. Andre finally got into his car and drove away.
Imani returned angry.
“He said he came to apologize.”
“He could have sent that through Serena.”
“He wanted you alone.”
I looked at the missed calls. I saved them.
The next day, I received an email from the restaurant. It was an ordinary receipt from our dinner, sent to the address on my reservation. I had forgotten I booked the table.
Four meals. One bottle of wine. A dessert we never ordered.
I forwarded it to Marcus so he could confirm I had repaid my share. Then I stared at the date.
The night before dinner, I had told myself I would speak to Marcus soon. I had still invited him to sit across from Andre and Serena while I kept quiet. The shame of that choice stayed with me longer than the image of the hallway.
On Wednesday, Marcus asked to meet at a coffee shop.
He was already seated when I arrived, with a cup cooling in front of him.
“I talked to Serena,” he said. “Andre has been trying to get her to say you pursued him.”
“He sent me a message saying something similar.”
“I saw it.”
Marcus studied my face. “Why didn’t you tell me about the messages before I found out?”
“Because I thought ending contact would make it easier to pretend the night was over.”
“Did you believe that?”
“Some mornings.”
He set down his cup.
“I need to know what else I might learn from someone else.”
I thought carefully before answering.
“There’s nothing more physical. There were more conversations than I first admitted in the hallway. I told you about them at the apartment. I saved what I still have.”
“Will you let me see them?”
“Yes.”
I passed him my phone. He read in silence. His expression changed at a message I had sent Andre two days after the party.
I miss how easy it felt to talk to you.
Marcus turned the phone toward me. “You didn’t mention this one.”
My face grew hot. “I had forgotten the words. I remember sending it.”
He looked at the screen again.
“You told me it was a terrible mistake from the moment it happened.”
“It was. I was also confused afterward.”
May you like
His chair scraped the floor as he stood.
I wanted to call him back. Instead, I let him leave with the fact he had needed to find.
