Chapter 4
I stared at Jayden.
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
"A house?"
He nodded.
"Mom said she was saving money."
My chest tightened.
"Where?"
He looked down.
"I don't know."
I took a slow breath.
"Jayden, did she ask you to keep this secret?"
He nodded.
"Yeah."
"Did she tell you why?"
He swallowed.
"She said you'd get mad."
I stared at the message again.
We won't be able to finish our plan.
Those words kept repeating in my mind.
I'd been working sixty-hour weeks.
I'd paid the mortgage.
Utilities.
Groceries.
Repairs.
I'd supported Jayden because I loved him.
And now I was wondering whether my wife had been planning a future that didn't include me.
I handed the phone back.
"Thank you for telling me."
Jayden looked frightened.
"Are you going to divorce Mom?"
My heart cracked.
"I don't know."
He lowered his head.
"I'm sorry."
I immediately shook mine.
"You haven't done anything wrong."
He looked up.
"But I kept the secret."
"You're fifteen."
I sat beside him.
"Adults shouldn't make children responsible for hiding financial information from other adults."
Tears filled his eyes.
I pulled him close.
"I'm not angry with you."
He nodded against my shoulder.
Then he whispered, "I don't want to lose you."
My throat tightened.
"You won't lose my care for you because your mother and I are having problems."
He began crying again.
I held him until his breathing slowed.
Then I sent him upstairs to get some rest.
Once his door closed, I sat alone.
My mind raced.
The support payments.
The adoption papers.
The secret house.
Tiana's strange insistence that I had financial responsibilities but no parenting authority.
For the first time, the pieces began connecting.
But I needed facts.
Not assumptions.
The next morning, I called my attorney.
His name was David Price.
We'd known each other since college.
He'd helped me establish my construction business.
When I explained what had happened, he listened carefully.
Then he asked, "Marcus, do you and Tiana have joint accounts?"
"Yes."
"Do you also maintain separate accounts?"
"Yes."
"Have you reviewed your household finances recently?"
I hesitated.
"Not closely."
He sighed.
"Then start there."
I rubbed my forehead.
"David, I don't want to spy on my wife."
"Reviewing accounts you legally own isn't spying."
I nodded.
He continued.
"But don't access her private accounts without authorization."
"Understood."
He asked about the house.
I explained that I'd purchased it after our marriage.
Most of the down payment had come from my savings.
But both our names appeared on the mortgage and deed.
David sounded serious.
"We need to review the documents before discussing ownership."
I swallowed.
"Okay."
He continued.
"And about the adoption paperwork, don't sign anything until we understand exactly what's been filed."
I agreed.
Then I asked the question I'd been avoiding.
"David, do you think Tiana is planning to leave me?"
He paused.
"I don't know."
I closed my eyes.
"But we need to find out what's happening before you make decisions."
After the call, I logged into our joint checking account.
I expected to see ordinary household expenses.
Mortgage.
Utilities.
Groceries.
Insurance.
Instead, I found something strange.
A series of transfers.
Five hundred dollars.
Seven hundred.
Nine hundred.
The amounts varied.
But they all went to the same unfamiliar account.
I scrolled backward.
The transfers had begun almost eighteen months earlier.
My stomach tightened.
I added them up.
More than twenty thousand dollars had left our joint account.
I stared at the screen.
I remembered Tiana telling me we couldn't afford a vacation.
That we needed to stop eating out.
That I should work overtime because expenses kept increasing.
Now I wondered where the money had gone.
I called David again.
He advised me to preserve the statements and avoid confronting her until we understood the transactions.
Then he asked whether I recognized the receiving institution.
I didn't.
He told me we could review any records I was legally entitled to obtain.
I ended the call feeling sick.
That evening, Tiana returned from a shopping trip.
She carried two expensive bags.
I stood near the kitchen.
"Can we talk?"
She sighed.
"What now?"
I held up the joint account statement.
"Do you recognize these transfers?"
Her eyes flickered.
Then she looked away.
"Those are household expenses."
"To one account?"
She folded her arms.
"I manage things you don't understand."
I stared at her.
"Then explain them."
She laughed bitterly.
"Marcus, I don't interrogate you about every dollar you spend."
I took a breath.
"This is more than twenty thousand dollars."
Her face changed.
For a moment, she looked genuinely startled that I'd noticed.
Then she snapped, "And?"
I felt my chest tighten.
"And I'd like to know where our money went."
She set down her bags.
"You think I'm stealing from you?"
"I didn't say that."
"That's exactly what you're accusing me of."
I shook my head.
"I'm asking for transparency."
She stepped closer.
"Maybe if you paid attention to your own marriage, I wouldn't have to handle everything alone."
I stared at her.
"Handle what?"
She opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
I took a slow breath.
"Tiana, is there another house?"
Her face went pale.
Silence.
I could hear the refrigerator humming.
Finally, she whispered, "Who told you that?"
My stomach dropped.
"So there is."
She looked away.
"Marcus—"
"Is there?"
She sighed.
"Yes."
I felt the room tilt.
"Where?"
She hesitated.
"Across town."
"Whose name is it in?"
She swallowed.
"Mine."
I stared at her.
"How long?"
"Six months."
My chest tightened.
"You bought a house six months ago?"
She shook her head.
"I'm making payments toward one."
I looked at the shopping bags.
Then at the bank statement.
"And you never told me?"
She raised her chin.
"I wanted something that belonged to me."
My throat tightened.
"What about the house we live in?"
She shrugged.
"That's different."
"How?"
She stared at me.
Then said something I would never forget.
"Because I needed a backup plan in case this marriage didn't work."
For a long moment, I couldn't speak.
Then I asked quietly, "Did you use our joint money to build that backup plan?"
May you like
She looked away.
And her silence told me more than any answer could have.
