Chapter 5
I didn't recognize myself in the wedding photographs.
In every picture before the cake cutting, I was smiling.
My eyes were bright.
My hand rested against Marcus's chest.
I looked like a woman who believed her life was finally becoming everything she wanted.
Then came the photographs after the prank.
My face covered in frosting.
My eyes filled with tears.
Marcus laughing.
Isaiah standing between us.
The guests staring.
I closed the album.
I couldn't look anymore.
Camille sat beside me.
"You don't have to keep watching."
I shook my head.
"I need to understand how I missed it."
She took my hand.
"Nia, you weren't supposed to investigate the man you loved like he was a criminal."
I looked at her.
"But there were signs."
"Maybe."
"He borrowed money. He mocked my job. He made jokes about my family."
Camille nodded.
"And you trusted him when he said he loved you."
I began crying.
"I feel stupid."
She pulled me into her arms.
"You're not stupid."
I wanted to believe her.
But shame had become almost as painful as the betrayal.
The wedding video had spread online.
Someone posted the cake incident without the recording Isaiah revealed afterward.
Strangers were arguing in the comments.
Some said Marcus's prank was harmless.
Others called him cruel.
A few people accused me of being too sensitive.
I stopped reading.
But Marcus didn't.
He posted a video claiming Isaiah had ruined our wedding because he never approved of our relationship.
He said the recording was edited.
He said I had overreacted.
Then he looked into the camera and smiled sadly.
"I love my wife. I hope she'll come home so we can work through this privately."
I stared at my phone.
For a moment, I almost believed him.
That was the frightening part.
Even after everything, I recognized the man who used to bring me flowers.
The man who kissed my forehead when I had migraines.
The man who proposed beneath the oak tree where my parents had celebrated their anniversary.
I wanted that man back.
Then I remembered his laughter.
The video.
The notebook.
The money.
And I forced myself to face the truth.
The man I missed was not the man standing in front of me now.
That afternoon, Angela introduced me to a family-law attorney named Patricia Reed.
Because Marcus and I had legally married before the reception, I needed to understand my options.
Patricia reviewed our marriage certificate and prenuptial agreement.
She explained that annulment rules depended on specific legal grounds.
A disastrous wedding and a spouse's dishonesty did not automatically make the marriage void.
We discussed divorce.
Financial disclosures.
Temporary arrangements.
And the need to protect my separate property.
I listened carefully.
When Patricia asked whether I wanted to proceed, my throat tightened.
I looked at my wedding ring.
"I've been married for less than a week."
She nodded gently.
"I understand."
"I waited years for this."
"I know."
I pressed my fingers against my eyes.
"I never imagined I'd be discussing divorce before opening my wedding gifts."
Patricia didn't rush me.
Finally, I whispered, "I want to proceed."
The words hurt.
But they also brought relief.
For the first time, I was making a decision based on what Marcus had done rather than what I hoped he might become.
That evening, my phone rang.
It was Gloria, Marcus's mother.
I hesitated.
Then I answered.
"Nia."
Her voice sounded cold.
"Have you thought about what you're doing to my son?"
I closed my eyes.
"Hello, Gloria."
"Marcus is devastated."
I stared at the wall.
"He humiliated me at our wedding."
"Men make foolish jokes."
"He planned it."
"That doesn't mean you should destroy your marriage."
I took a breath.
"He also tried to arrange a secret business deal using my family's company."
Gloria sighed.
"That's between you and Marcus."
"No. It involves my brother and my late mother's business."
She became irritated.
"Nia, marriage requires forgiveness."
I looked toward the wedding photographs.
For months, I had been told that love meant patience.
Forgiveness.
Understanding.
Sacrifice.
But nobody seemed interested in asking what Marcus owed me.
"Gloria, your son planned to humiliate me."
She went silent.
"He laughed while I cried."
Her voice softened slightly.
"He didn't mean to hurt you."
"He said he would push my face into the cake before the wedding even happened."
Silence.
Then she whispered, "He told me that was just a joke between the boys."
My stomach tightened.
"You knew?"
She hesitated.
"Marcus mentioned something about a prank."
I closed my eyes.
"Before the wedding?"
"Yes."
I felt sick.
She had known he might do something humiliating.
And she hadn't warned me.
"Gloria, I need space."
"Nia—"
"Please respect that."
I ended the call.
I sat quietly for a long time.
Then Isaiah entered the room.
He looked worried.
"Are you okay?"
I shook my head.
"His mother knew about the cake prank."
Isaiah's jaw tightened.
"I'm sorry."
I looked at him.
"Why do people keep deciding what I should tolerate?"
He sat beside me.
"I don't know."
I turned toward him.
"Even you."
His expression changed.
I continued.
"You had the video before the ceremony."
He lowered his eyes.
"I know."
"You thought you were protecting me by waiting."
He nodded.
"But you took away my chance to decide before I married him."
His eyes filled with tears.
"You're right."
I stared at my brother.
For years, Isaiah had made decisions when I was overwhelmed.
After Mom died, he handled the funeral.
When Dad passed away, he helped manage the estate.
He protected me so fiercely that sometimes I forgot how to protect myself.
But I wasn't a child anymore.
"I need you to trust me with the truth," I whispered.
He took my hand.
"I will."
"Even when it's ugly?"
"Especially then."
I believed him.
But I knew trust would take time to rebuild.
The next morning, Angela called.
She had received an unexpected message from a woman named Tasha Monroe.
Tasha worked as an executive assistant at the hotel where Marcus held his bachelor celebration.
She claimed she was the person who recorded the conversation.
My heart began pounding.
"Why did she record it?"
Angela hesitated.
"She says she overheard your name and recognized it."
"Recognized it how?"
"Tasha previously worked for Bellamy Hospitality."
I stared at the phone.
Then Angela continued.
"She says Marcus and Devin were discussing more than the Harbor Point deal."
My stomach tightened.
"What else?"
Angela took a breath.
"According to her, they were talking about documents hidden in your mother's old office."
I froze.
My mother's office.
The room we had kept almost unchanged since her death.
The room where she stored company records, family photographs, and personal letters.
"What documents?" I whispered.
Angela was quiet.
Then she said, "Tasha believes Marcus was looking for something connected to your mother's estate."
May you like
And suddenly, the betrayal reached beyond my marriage.
It reached into the last place I believed my mother's memory was safe.
