Chương 3
I called the bank before Nia could turn the conversation into another argument about Claire.
The transfer was there.
Thirty-five thousand dollars had left the renovation account three weeks earlier. The recipient was Malik’s contracting business.
I had never signed a construction agreement.
Nia stood beside the kitchen island.
“You said you wanted more space.”
“I said I wanted an estimate.”
“Malik needed the deposit to hold the crew.”
“Did he send a contract?”
“Yes.”
“To whom?”
“Me.”
“Show it to me.”
She scrolled through her phone, then held up a document. My name appeared as the client. Nia’s signature was at the bottom.
I read the scope of work. It described converting part of the upstairs into a large bedroom suite and removing the small room Ava used on weekends.
I looked up.
“You planned to remove Ava’s room?”
“We were going to have children.”
“Ava is my child.”
“She could use the guest room.”
“The room you said would be your dressing room?”
Nia’s face flushed.
“We could have worked it out.”
“After the wall was gone?”
I handed back the phone.
For the first time, I saw how often I accepted the phrase later as if it were a plan. Claire’s money would be paid later. Ava would understand later. Nia and I would work out the details later.
People had been living with the damage while I waited.
I called Malik. He answered with a cheerful greeting.
“Brother. How was the barbecue?”
“Did Nia pay you thirty-five thousand?”
There was a pause.
“For your addition.”
“I never approved an addition. I need the contract and a full accounting of the deposit.”
“Nia said you were good with it.”
“She didn’t have authority to commit me.”
“You gave her access to the account.”
“To pay household bills. Not to hire a contractor for work I never approved.”
Malik said he had already spent some of the money. Materials. Crew reservations. Design fees.
I asked for invoices.
He said he would send them.
I knew enough about construction to understand that a deposit could carry legitimate expenses. I also knew that vague answers did not become legitimate because the contractor was family.
I saved the agreement Nia sent and forwarded it to my attorney, Ms. Brooks.
Then I called Claire.
She answered from her car.
“I’m outside my apartment. Ava’s upstairs with my neighbor.”
“Can we talk tomorrow with the lawyers?”
“Yes.”
“There’s a financial issue I need to disclose before the meeting. It may affect the closing account, though it doesn’t change your deed.”
I explained the missing thirty-five thousand.
Claire was silent for several seconds.
“That money was supposed to be part of my repayment.”
“Yes.”
“Did you know?”
“No. But I gave Nia account access.”
Claire exhaled.
“I want the bank records.”
“You’ll have them.”
“You understand why I’m asking for everything in writing.”
“I do.”
“No more surprises, Andre.”
“No more.”
When I ended the call, Nia had gone upstairs. I could hear drawers opening.
I did not follow her. I sat at the dining table and downloaded statements from every shared account.
The house payment was current. The utilities were paid. But there were transfers to Malik’s company I did not recognize. Smaller ones. Two thousand dollars in January. Fifteen hundred in March. Another six hundred the week Ava’s school asked us to pay for a summer program.
I remembered telling Claire I needed another week to cover my share.
That memory made me feel sick.
I called Ms. Brooks again and asked her to review all the transfers, not just the large one.
She told me to secure the account access, preserve the records, and avoid making accusations beyond what I could prove.
I changed the permissions through the bank’s process. Nia still had her own money. She could no longer move mine without authorization.
She came downstairs carrying a bag.
“I’m staying at my mother’s.”
“Okay.”
“You’re punishing me for trying to build a home with you.”
“I’m asking where the money went.”
“I gave you the contract.”
“You gave me a contract I didn’t approve.”
Her eyes filled.
“Do you want to call off the engagement?”
I looked at the ring on her hand.
“I need space to understand what happened. I’m not planning a wedding right now.”
She stared at me.
Then she left.
After the car pulled away, I walked upstairs to Ava’s room. Her drawings hung beside the bed. A small lamp shaped like a moon stood on the shelf. Nia had described it as childish when she moved in.
Ava was eight. It was supposed to look like a child lived there.
I sat on the edge of the bed and called my daughter.
She told me about the school trip, the bus ride, and a frog she had seen near the lake. I listened until she ran out of words.
Then she asked, “Are you mad at Mom?”
“No.”
“Nia told me Mom wanted our house.”
I closed my eyes.
“What did she say?”
“That if Mom kept asking for money, I wouldn’t get to come here anymore.”
I gripped the phone.
“When did she tell you that?”
“Last weekend.”
I took a breath before answering.
“Ava, you have done nothing wrong. You’ll keep seeing me. Grown-up money problems are for grown-ups to handle.”
“Okay.”
Her voice was small.
May you like
I had handed Claire the keys because I wanted to tell the truth.
Now I had to make sure my daughter heard it too.
