Chapter 6
The next morning, I learned that Marcus had been telling people I was suffering from a personal crisis.
Patricia called to warn me.
“He says you're angry about the breakup and threatening to destroy the company.”
I almost laughed.
“He forged my signature, and I'm the one having a crisis?”
“I know. But some employees believe him.”
That hurt more than I expected.
I had never worked for Marcus's company, yet I had supported him through its earliest days. I had reviewed presentation slides, helped him prepare for meetings, and listened to him describe the business he hoped to build.
I had celebrated his first major contract as if it were my own achievement.
Now he was using that history to make me look unstable.
“What can I do?” I asked.
“Keep your records. Don't respond to rumors. Let the evidence speak.”
I followed her advice.
I also arranged to move my personal belongings out of the apartment once the lease arrangements were clarified. Danielle offered me her spare room, but I wanted to handle the move properly rather than create another dispute.
When I told Marcus that I planned to leave, he called me immediately.
“You're moving out?”
“Yes.”
“Without even trying to work things out?”
I almost dropped the phone.
“Marcus, you admitted to the affair.”
“I said I made a mistake.”
“And you used my name on financial documents.”
“That has nothing to do with our relationship.”
“Exactly. That's why I'm ending both discussions.”
He exhaled angrily.
“You're acting like I've committed some terrible crime.”
“I don't know what the investigation will establish. But I know I didn't sign those forms.”
He went quiet.
Then he changed his tone.
“Nia, I love you.”
I closed my eyes.
I had waited months to hear those words spoken without distraction.
Now they arrived only after I refused to cooperate.
“If you loved me,” I said, “you would have told me the truth before I discovered it in a bank statement.”
He didn't answer.
I ended the call.
That afternoon, I went to the apartment with Danielle to collect my clothes and personal items.
Marcus wasn't home.
I packed carefully, taking only what belonged to me. Danielle carried boxes to her car while I checked the bedroom drawers.
In the back of my closet, I found a small gift bag from our last anniversary.
Inside was a handwritten card Marcus had given me.
Thank you for believing in me when nobody else did. One day, I'll give you the life you deserve.
I sat on the floor holding it.
The words had once made me feel cherished.
Now I wondered whether he had believed them when he wrote them.
Danielle found me a few minutes later.
“You okay?”
I showed her the card.
She read it and sat beside me.
“You believed in him because you loved him. That wasn't a mistake.”
I wiped my eyes.
“I should have seen the signs.”
“Maybe. But people who lie often rely on the trust of people who don't.”
I folded the card and placed it in a box.
I didn't need to destroy every memory to move forward.
I only needed to stop using the good memories as excuses for the bad choices.
When we finished packing, I left the apartment key on the counter and sent Marcus a message confirming that my belongings had been removed.
He replied with a single sentence.
You never really believed in me.
I stared at it for a long time.
Then I wrote back, I believed in you. You used that belief against me.
I blocked his number temporarily so I could concentrate on the next steps.
Three days later, Ms. Collins called with an update.
“The bank has opened a formal review of the disputed transactions,” she said. “The company is also examining the investment records.”
“Does that mean they believe me?”
“It means the documents require investigation. That's the appropriate next step.”
I appreciated her honesty.
I didn't want promises. I wanted facts.
She explained that the review could take time and that I should continue preserving all relevant communications.
That evening, Patricia sent me a message.
The accountant has located emails discussing the transfers.
My heart began pounding.
I called her.
“What do the emails say?”
“Marcus described the payments as temporary reallocations. Vanessa acknowledged receiving funds for consulting services.”
“Did she actually provide those services?”
“There's no supporting work product in the company files so far.”
I sat down slowly.
“Does the email mention me?”
Patricia hesitated.
“Yes.”
“What does it say?”
“He wrote that your investment would make the transfers easier to explain during the next financial review.”
I felt cold all over.
My name hadn't been used by accident.
He had deliberately treated my reputation as a shield for money I never agreed to provide.
“Send everything to the attorney,” I said.
“I already have.”
After the call, I went onto Danielle's balcony and stared at the city lights.
I was tired of being afraid.
I was tired of wondering which memory had been real and which had been another piece of a carefully managed lie.
My phone vibrated with a message from an unknown number.
It was Vanessa.
You think you're winning, but you don't know what Marcus has planned.
I read the message twice.
Then another appeared.
Ask him about the loan.
I immediately forwarded both messages to Ms. Collins.
A loan?
I had never borrowed money from Marcus's company.
But if he had used my name to claim an investment, what else might he have done?
I opened my email and searched every message containing my name and the words loan, credit, and authorization.
One result appeared from four months earlier.
It was an automated notification from a financial institution I barely recognized.
The subject line read: Application Status Update.
I opened it.
The application had been declined.
May you like
The applicant's name was Nia Bennett.
And the amount requested was $75,000.
