Chapter 4
I didn't scream when I saw the amount.
Ninety thousand dollars.
I simply stared at the email.
Then I read it again.
And again.
The money represented years of sacrifice.
I'd worked through college.
I'd taken extra shifts at the hospital.
I'd saved bonuses instead of buying expensive vacations.
After my father died, I promised myself I'd never be completely dependent on anyone.
That account was my security.
Marcus knew that.
He knew exactly why it mattered.
I looked at him.
"Why is my money involved in your investment paperwork?"
He lowered his voice.
"Nia, we talked about building a future."
"We talked about saving for a house."
"This was part of that."
"No. It wasn't."
Vanessa folded her arms.
"Honestly, Nia, you're acting like Marcus planned to rob you."
I turned toward her.
"Stay out of this."
She rolled her eyes.
"It's his wedding too."
I took one step closer.
"You cut my mother's hair."
She glanced toward the guests.
"Are we seriously still discussing that?"
I stared at her.
Then I looked at Marcus.
"Your friend attacked my mother, tried to frame me as unstable, and now I discover a document involving my savings."
Marcus exhaled sharply.
"Those things aren't connected."
"Then prove it."
He didn't answer.
I opened the email attachment.
It contained a proposed investment agreement.
The company name was Carter Development Partners.
Marcus's surname.
I searched the document.
Vanessa was listed as an authorized administrative representative.
I felt my stomach twist.
"Why is Vanessa's name here?"
Marcus reached toward my phone.
"Let me explain."
I moved back.
"Don't touch it."
He froze.
I turned the screen toward him.
"Why is she authorized to handle financial paperwork involving my savings?"
Vanessa laughed nervously.
"Because I have experience with business accounts."
I looked at her.
"You're a social media consultant."
Her eyes narrowed.
"I've managed accounts before."
"Not mine."
Marcus stepped between us.
"Nia, you're making assumptions."
I shook my head.
"Then show me where I agreed to this."
He fell silent.
I opened the signature page.
My name was typed beneath a blank signature line.
The document hadn't been executed.
But someone had prepared it.
Someone expected me to sign.
And nobody had told me Vanessa would be involved.
I felt cold.
"Did you plan to bring this to me during our honeymoon?"
Marcus looked away.
My stomach dropped.
"You did."
He rubbed his face.
"We were going to talk."
"After I was legally married to you."
"Yes, because we're building a life together!"
I stared at him.
"A life you planned with Vanessa?"
He looked offended.
"That's ridiculous."
I wanted to believe him.
I truly did.
But every minute revealed another lie.
Jasmine touched my shoulder.
"Nia, we should get your mother home."
I looked across the ballroom.
Mom was sitting beside Uncle Raymond.
A stylist from the wedding team had gently covered the uneven section of her hair with a silk scarf.
She looked exhausted.
My heart broke all over again.
"You're right."
I turned toward Marcus.
"I'm leaving."
His eyes widened.
"What?"
"I'm taking my mother home."
"Nia, we're married."
I stared at him.
"And?"
"We need to work through this."
I took a slow breath.
"We will talk through attorneys."
His expression hardened.
"Don't be dramatic."
I looked at him.
"That's the third time you've called me dramatic since your friend attacked my mother."
He said nothing.
I walked toward Evelyn.
She stood when she saw me.
"Baby?"
I hugged her.
"We're going home."
She looked relieved.
Then frightened.
"Are you sure?"
I nodded.
"I've never been more sure."
Uncle Raymond placed a hand on my shoulder.
"I'll drive you."
I thanked him.
As we moved toward the ballroom doors, Marcus followed.
"Nia, wait!"
I kept walking.
He reached for my arm.
I pulled away.
"Don't."
He stopped.
Several guests were watching.
Vanessa hurried after him.
"Marcus, let her go."
Something in her voice made me turn.
She sounded almost pleased.
My stomach tightened.
I looked at her.
"Why are you smiling?"
Her expression changed.
"I'm not."
"You wanted this."
She laughed sharply.
"You're imagining things."
I shook my head.
"No. You wanted me to leave."
Marcus stared at her.
"Vanessa?"
She grabbed his sleeve.
"Don't listen to her."
But I was already walking away.
Outside, the evening air felt cold against my bare shoulders.
I climbed into Uncle Raymond's car beside Mom.
As we drove away, I watched the ballroom disappear through the rear window.
The place I'd imagined as the beginning of my happiest memory had become the place where my marriage began falling apart.
Mom took my hand.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart."
I turned.
"No, Mom."
"If I hadn't recorded her—"
"Then I might never have known."
She looked down.
I squeezed her fingers.
"You protected me."
She began crying.
I leaned against her shoulder.
For a moment, I allowed myself to cry too.
When we reached Mom's house, Uncle Raymond carried our bags inside.
He made tea while I helped her remove the ruined hairpins.
I couldn't stop looking at the uneven gray strands.
Mom noticed.
"Don't worry about my hair."
I swallowed.
"She hurt you."
Mom touched my cheek.
"Hair can be fixed."
I nodded.
Then she added quietly, "But trust is harder."
I looked at her.
She knew.
She knew I was thinking about Marcus.
I sat beside her.
"I don't understand why he defended Vanessa."
Mom hesitated.
"Nia, there's something I haven't told you."
My heart tightened.
"What?"
She looked toward the kitchen.
"Three weeks ago, I went to your apartment to drop off your grandmother's pearl necklace."
I remembered.
She'd offered it as my something old.
"Marcus said you weren't home."
I nodded.
"I was working."
Mom swallowed.
"Vanessa was there."
My stomach sank.
"What?"
"She came out of your bedroom."
I stared at her.
Mom's eyes filled.
"She was wearing one of your robes."
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
My mother reached for my hand.
"I asked Marcus why she was there."
"What did he say?"
"He told me she'd spilled coffee on her clothes."
I felt nauseated.
"Then Vanessa laughed."
I looked at Mom.
"What did she say?"
My mother's voice trembled.
"She said, 'Some women are born to be wives. Others are just useful until the paperwork is done.'"
I stared at her.
The room seemed to tilt.
My wedding.
The financial agreement.
The planned humiliation.
Vanessa's presence in my bedroom.
It all began forming a picture I desperately didn't want to see.
I reached for my phone.
Three missed calls from Marcus.
Seven messages.
The final one made my heart stop.
"Nia, don't believe everything your mother tells you. Vanessa and I need to explain something before this gets worse."
I stared at the screen.
My husband had written "Vanessa and I."
Not "I."
Not "we need to talk."
May you like
Vanessa and I.
And suddenly, I understood that whatever Marcus was hiding had started long before our wedding day.
