Chapter 7
The day Marcus was questioned by investigators, I went to work.
I had spent too many days staring at legal documents and waiting for bad news.
I needed to remember that I had a life outside my marriage.
I was a financial operations director at a healthcare technology company.
I had spent twelve years building my career.
I managed budgets, supervised teams, and helped hospitals control costs without compromising patient care.
My job wasn't glamorous.
But it mattered.
And I was good at it.
When I arrived, my assistant, Olivia, looked up with concern.
“Nia, are you okay?”
I smiled faintly.
“I'm getting there.”
She hesitated.
“Do you need anything?”
“Coffee.”
She laughed.
“Already on your desk.”
For the first time in days, I felt normal.
Then my manager, Denise Walker, asked to see me.
I entered her office nervously.
I hadn't told many people about the divorce.
But news had spread through mutual acquaintances.
Denise closed the door.
“Nia, I heard you've been dealing with a difficult personal situation.”
I lowered my eyes.
“Yes.”
She leaned forward.
“I want you to know that your work here is valued. If you need some flexibility while handling legal matters, we'll work with you.”
My throat tightened.
“Thank you.”
She smiled.
“You've supported this department through every crisis we've faced. Let us support you now.”
I nearly cried.
For ten years, Marcus had made me feel that needing help was a weakness.
Now someone was offering it without making me feel ashamed.
That afternoon, Angela called.
Marcus had retained a criminal defense attorney.
He denied forging my signature.
He claimed Vanessa handled the paperwork.
Vanessa, through her own attorney, denied intentionally impersonating me.
Their explanations conflicted.
Investigators were reviewing the evidence.
Angela warned me not to expect a quick resolution.
But she also confirmed that the disputed property transfer had been stopped and formally challenged.
The lender had canceled the pending loan application.
The Florida purchase contract had collapsed after Claudia withdrew from the joint venture.
I closed my eyes in relief.
“So they can't use my house to buy that property?”
“Not through this transaction.”
I let out a breath I felt I'd been holding for weeks.
The house wasn't fully protected from every possible divorce claim.
But the immediate attempt to transfer my interest had failed.
That mattered.
Then Angela said something unexpected.
“Nia, Claudia wants to speak with you.”
I frowned.
“Why?”
“She says she was misled and wants to apologize.”
I considered refusing.
Claudia was connected to the transaction that nearly cost me my home.
But she had also provided documents that helped expose the deception.
I agreed to a video call with Angela present.
Claudia appeared on the screen looking embarrassed.
She was a successful Black real estate investor in her forties.
She didn't resemble the glamorous, careless woman I had imagined.
She looked like someone who had just realized she'd nearly lost a great deal of money.
“Nia,” she began, “I owe you an apology.”
I waited.
“Marcus represented himself as an experienced investor. He provided documents indicating the property assets were properly controlled by his company.”
She swallowed.
“I should have verified everything more carefully.”
I nodded.
“Yes.”
“I didn't know he was using your identity.”
I studied her face.
“Do you believe that now?”
“Yes.”
She looked down.
“When Angela's office contacted my attorney, I reviewed the documents again. There were inconsistencies I should have noticed.”
I took a breath.
“Thank you for cooperating.”
She nodded.
“I hope you get your home back without any further problems.”
I looked at her.
“I hope so, too.”
After the call, Angela told me something important.
Claudia had agreed to provide testimony regarding Marcus's statements and the documents he supplied.
That strengthened our position.
The next major development came from the notary's company.
Its internal investigation found that the remote session had been approved despite several identity-verification warning signs.
The notary had failed to follow required procedures.
The company reported the matter to the appropriate authorities.
The original recording and related records were preserved.
Angela explained that this could support both the property dispute and any claims arising from the unauthorized transaction.
I listened carefully.
For weeks, I had felt as though the truth was buried beneath layers of paperwork.
Now each layer was being removed.
But the most painful conversation still lay ahead.
Gloria called me that evening.
I almost ignored her.
Then I answered.
“Nia.”
Her voice sounded different.
Quiet.
Tired.
“Hello, Gloria.”
She took a breath.
“I spoke to Marcus.”
I waited.
“He told me the police are investigating the house documents.”
“Yes.”
There was a long silence.
Then she whispered, “Did he really try to put your home into a company with that woman?”
I closed my eyes.
“The documents show the company exists, and that a transfer was attempted using a signature I didn't provide.”
Gloria began crying.
“I raised him better than this.”
I didn't know what to say.
For years, she had defended Marcus automatically.
Every argument became my fault.
Every disappointment became something I should forgive.
Now she was beginning to see what I had been living with.
“Nia,” she said, “I'm sorry for what I said after the airport.”
I swallowed.
“You blamed me for his affair.”
“I know.”
“You said I should have been a better wife.”
“I know.”
My voice trembled.
“I spent ten years trying to make Marcus happy. I paid bills when he couldn't. I supported him when he changed jobs. I stood beside him when he disappointed everyone else.”
Tears filled my eyes.
“And when he betrayed me, you told me I hadn't done enough.”
Gloria cried quietly.
“You're right.”
I stared at the wall.
“I loved your son.”
“I know, baby.”
“And he used that love against me.”
Her voice broke.
“I am so sorry.”
I didn't forgive her immediately.
The words she had said still hurt.
But I appreciated that she wasn't making excuses anymore.
“I need distance,” I said.
“I understand.”
“Please respect that.”
“I will.”
After we hung up, I sat quietly.
Then Jasmine entered the room.
“Everything okay?”
I nodded slowly.
“Gloria apologized.”
Jasmine raised her eyebrows.
“That's new.”
I almost laughed.
“Yes.”
She sat beside me.
“Does it help?”
“A little.”
She smiled.
“Then take the little bit.”
The following week, the divorce proceedings moved forward.
Marcus's attorney requested a temporary financial arrangement.
Angela responded with documentation of my income, his earnings, the household expenses, and the disputed withdrawals.
The court ordered both of us to preserve relevant financial records and avoid transferring or concealing marital assets.
I was relieved.
It meant the process would be supervised.
Neither of us could simply decide the outcome alone.
Then Erica called.
She had reviewed the documents she kept from her marriage to Marcus.
She found an old email referencing Vanessa.
It contained a sentence that made my stomach tighten.
Vanessa knows how to handle the paperwork. Trust her.
The message was dated more than ten years earlier.
I stared at it.
Marcus and Vanessa had been connected during his previous marriage.
Not necessarily romantically.
But financially.
And now she was involved in another disputed property transaction.
I forwarded the email to Angela.
She reviewed it carefully.
Then she said, “This could be relevant to establishing their prior relationship and knowledge of each other's financial activities.”
I looked toward the window.
For the first time, I stopped asking whether Marcus had ever truly loved me.
There was no answer that could undo his choices.
Instead, I asked myself something else.
What kind of life did I want after this?
And the answer came more easily than I expected.
A life where I wasn't constantly afraid of being lied to.
A life where I didn't have to prove my worth by tolerating disrespect.
A life where my home was truly mine.
I smiled faintly.
Then my phone rang.
Angela again.
“Nia, there's been an important development.”
I sat upright.
“What?”
“The investigators have identified the woman who appeared in the remote notarization session.”
My heart pounded.
“Who was it?”
May you like
Angela took a breath.
“Vanessa Carter.”
