Chapter 2
I recognized Daniel's handwriting immediately.
I had seen it on birthday cards.
Christmas gifts.
Notes he left in our kitchen after visiting Nia.
But I had never expected to see my name written on an envelope my wife was carrying on our anniversary.
“What's inside?”
Nia held it against her chest.
“Please sit down.”
I looked at the untouched dinner.
“I've been waiting for you to sit down all evening.”
She flinched.
“Marcus, I'm serious.”
“So am I.”
Her eyes filled again.
I reached toward the envelope.
She pulled it away.
That movement told me everything.
Whatever was inside, she knew it would hurt me.
“Nia.”
She finally handed it over.
I opened it.
Inside were three folded pages.
The first was a printed letter.
The second appeared to be a legal document.
The third was a photograph.
I looked at the photograph first.
Nia and Daniel stood together outside a small brick building.
His arm was around her waist.
Her head rested against his shoulder.
They were smiling.
Not the polite smiles people use for pictures with friends.
The kind of smiles I remembered from our honeymoon.
I looked at my wife.
“When was this taken?”
She swallowed.
“Last month.”
“Where?”
“Daniel's apartment.”
I stared at her.
“Why were you taking pictures like this at his apartment?”
She covered her face.
“Because we were together.”
The words struck me harder than I expected.
I had imagined hearing them.
I had rehearsed what I would say if my suspicions were confirmed.
But reality was different.
Reality made my chest physically hurt.
“Together,” I repeated.
She nodded.
“How long?”
“Marcus—”
“How long?”
Her voice broke.
“Eight months.”
I stepped back.
Eight months.
Two hundred and forty days.
While I worked to keep our business and home secure, my wife had been building another relationship.
“Eight months,” I whispered.
Nia began sobbing.
“It wasn't supposed to happen.”
I looked at the photograph again.
“You accidentally spent eight months with another man?”
She shook her head.
“That's not what I mean.”
“Then explain what you mean.”
She wiped her cheeks.
“I was lonely.”
I stared at her.
“Lonely?”
“You were always working.”
I almost laughed.
I owned a small construction company.
Twelve employees depended on me.
We had taken on a difficult commercial renovation the previous year.
For months, I worked long hours to keep payroll steady.
Nia knew that.
She had encouraged me to take the contract.
She had celebrated when we won it.
Now she was using my work as an explanation for her betrayal.
“I was working to build our future,” I said.
“I know.”
“Apparently you were building one with Daniel.”
She lowered her head.
I unfolded the second page.
It was a draft separation agreement.
My stomach dropped.
I skimmed the paragraphs.
It mentioned our house.
Our savings.
Our vehicles.
Then I reached a section that made my blood run cold.
Nia was requesting temporary exclusive use of the marital home.
I looked up.
“You want me out of my own house?”
She shook her head quickly.
“No. Daniel said it was standard.”
“Daniel wrote this?”
“He helped me find someone.”
I looked at the legal document again.
There was no lawyer's signature.
No firm letterhead.
Just a draft agreement prepared for my wife to present.
“You were going to hand me this tonight?”
She nodded.
“On our anniversary?”
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“I didn't know how else to do it.”
I looked around our dining room.
The flowers.
The candles.
The food.
I had spent my afternoon preparing a celebration.
She had spent hers preparing to leave me.
I unfolded the final page.
It was a letter.
Marcus,
Nia has struggled to tell you the truth because she doesn't want to hurt you more than necessary.
Our relationship has developed into something neither of us can ignore.
I hope you can respect her decision and allow us to move forward peacefully.
You deserve someone who can give you the love you need.
Daniel.
I read the letter twice.
Then I looked toward the door.
“He wrote me a breakup letter?”
Nia whispered, “He was trying to help.”
I stared at her.
“Help whom?”
She didn't answer.
I held up the paper.
“This man has been eating at my table for years.”
“I know.”
“He watched football with me.”
“I know.”
“He helped me move furniture into this house.”
“Marcus, please.”
“He shook my hand on our wedding day.”
She began crying harder.
I remembered Daniel standing beside us after the ceremony.
He had smiled and said I was a lucky man.
I wondered whether he had already wanted my wife.
Or whether he simply enjoyed taking something that belonged to someone who trusted him.
My phone rang.
It was my younger sister, Jasmine.
I ignored it.
Nia looked at the screen.
“You should answer.”
I stared at her.
“Don't tell me what I should do.”
She looked away.
I walked toward the kitchen.
For several seconds, I gripped the counter and tried to breathe.
Then I returned.
“Have you slept with him?”
Nia closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
I nodded.
I didn't yell.
I didn't throw anything.
I simply felt an enormous emptiness open inside my chest.
“Did you bring him into our home?”
Her silence answered before her mouth did.
“Nia.”
“Only once.”
I looked at her.
“Only once?”
“You were out of town.”
I remembered the trip.
Atlanta.
A three-day business conference.
She had called me every evening.
She told me she missed me.
She asked when I was coming home.
Now I wondered whether Daniel had been sitting beside her during those calls.
“Did you sleep with him in our bedroom?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
I didn't know whether to believe her.
And that was the cruelest part.
Once trust disappeared, even the smallest answers became impossible to accept.
Nia stepped closer.
“I still care about you.”
I moved away.
“Don't.”
She stopped.
“I never wanted to destroy our marriage.”
“Then why did you?”
She covered her face.
I picked up my wedding ring.
For one foolish second, I wanted to put it back on.
I wanted to return to the life I had before she opened that envelope.
But I couldn't.
I placed it in my pocket.
“Where are you going?” Nia asked.
“Upstairs.”
“Marcus, please don't shut me out.”
I turned toward her.
“You were planning to walk out that door and spend the night with him.”
She lowered her eyes.
“That's different.”
“No,” I said. “It isn't.”
I climbed the stairs.
In our bedroom, I opened the closet and took out an overnight bag.
I packed clothes, my medication, and my work laptop.
Then I sat on the edge of the bed.
My phone vibrated.
A message from Jasmine.
Call me. It's about Nia and Daniel. I've been trying to figure out how to tell you.
I stared at the words.
My sister knew.
I called immediately.
She answered on the first ring.
“Marcus?”
“What do you know?”
There was a long silence.
Then she whispered, “Oh, God. She told you?”
I closed my eyes.
“How long have you known?”
“Two weeks.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I was trying to get proof.”
I gripped the phone.
“Proof of what?”
Jasmine began crying.
“Marcus, the affair isn't the worst part.”
My stomach tightened.
“What are you talking about?”
She took a shaky breath.
“I found out why Daniel really wanted Nia to leave you tonight.”
I stood.
“Why?”
Jasmine whispered, “Because they're planning to take something from you.”
I looked toward the bedroom door.
“What?”
May you like
Her next words made my knees weak.
“Your company, Marcus. They want your company.”
