Chapter 3
"How much?"
My voice sounded distant.
Jordan stared at me.
"Marcus..."
"HOW MUCH MONEY?"
Nia began crying.
"Please don't listen to him."
I ignored her.
Jordan swallowed.
"Seventy-five thousand dollars."
For a moment, I thought I had misheard.
Seventy-five thousand.
I looked at Nia.
She was standing beside our bed, twisting her fingers.
"Tell me he's lying."
She lowered her head.
"Nia."
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
"I was going to pay it back."
My chest tightened.
"Pay what back?"
She covered her face.
"The loan."
I stared at her.
A loan.
In my name.
Without my knowledge.
I felt the room tilt.
I reached for the dresser to steady myself.
"How did you do that?"
Nia shook her head.
"I didn't mean for things to get this bad."
"Answer the question."
She looked toward Jordan.
He stepped backward.
"Don't look at me," he said. "Tell your husband."
Nia began sobbing.
"I used some information from your business paperwork."
I stared at her.
"What information?"
"Your Social Security number. Income statements. Copies of your identification."
My hands began trembling.
"Where did you get those?"
"From the office drawer."
I closed my eyes.
I had trusted her with access to everything in our home.
Every document.
Every account.
Every detail of my life.
And she had used that access against me.
"Where did the money go?"
She hesitated.
"Marcus..."
"Where?"
She whispered, "Into a business."
I stared at her.
"What business?"
She looked toward Jordan again.
And suddenly, I understood.
I turned toward him.
"Your business?"
Jordan shook his head.
"Not mine."
"Then whose?"
Nia spoke.
"It was supposed to be ours."
The words landed like a punch.
"Ours?"
She nodded through tears.
"Mine and Jordan's."
I stared at them.
My wife.
Her ex-boyfriend.
A secret business.
A loan in my name.
And the realization that the scene I had walked into was only one piece of something much larger.
"What kind of business?" I asked.
Jordan sighed.
"A fitness studio."
I looked at him.
He continued.
"Nia wanted to open one. I have experience managing gyms, so she asked me to help."
I turned toward Nia.
"You told me you wanted to start a business someday."
She nodded.
"And I told you I'd help you build a proper plan."
"You kept saying we needed to wait!"
"Because you hadn't researched costs or locations!"
She wiped her cheeks.
"I was tired of waiting."
I laughed bitterly.
"So you decided to use my identity?"
She flinched.
"I thought once the studio opened, we'd make enough to repay everything."
I stared at her.
"And Jordan was going to be your partner?"
She nodded.
My stomach twisted.
"How long have you been planning this?"
Neither answered.
"How long?"
Jordan finally spoke.
"About four months."
Four months.
Four months of secret meetings.
Four months of conversations.
Four months of financial plans involving my name.
I thought about our wedding vows.
About the promises we had made.
About the way Nia kissed me goodbye that very morning.
And I felt physically sick.
"Was there an affair?"
Nia immediately shook her head.
"No!"
I looked at Jordan.
He hesitated.
"Nia and I haven't slept together."
I studied his expression.
"That wasn't exactly my question."
He looked uncomfortable.
I stepped closer.
"Have you been romantically involved with my wife?"
"No."
"Have you kissed her?"
Jordan looked toward Nia.
My stomach dropped.
Nia began crying harder.
"Marcus, please."
I stared at her.
"Answer me."
She whispered, "Once."
Everything went quiet.
I heard the air conditioner humming.
A car passing outside.
My own breathing.
"Once," I repeated.
Nia nodded.
"It was a mistake."
I looked at Jordan.
He stared at the floor.
"When?"
"Three weeks ago."
I felt something inside me break.
Three weeks ago.
The same period when Nia began questioning my bank statements.
The same period when she accused me of hiding an affair.
The same period when she claimed I was being dishonest.
She had been projecting her own betrayal onto me.
I stepped backward.
"Get out."
Nia reached for me.
"Marcus, please."
I moved away.
"Jordan, leave my house."
He nodded quickly.
"I'm sorry, man."
I stared at him.
"Don't call me that."
He lowered his head.
Then he walked toward the door.
Before leaving, he stopped.
"For what it's worth, I didn't know she used your identity until after the loan was approved."
I looked at him.
"Then why are you here today?"
He swallowed.
"Because the business is falling apart."
My chest tightened.
"What do you mean?"
"The landlord wants payment. The contractors haven't finished. And Nia said the lender has started asking questions."
I turned toward my wife.
She was shaking.
I looked at her.
"Is that true?"
She nodded.
I took a slow breath.
"How much of the seventy-five thousand is left?"
She stared at the floor.
"Nia."
"Almost nothing."
I felt the blood drain from my face.
"Almost nothing?"
She began crying uncontrollably.
"We paid deposits. Equipment suppliers. Marketing. Rent."
I stared at her.
"And the studio isn't even open?"
She shook her head.
My knees felt weak.
I sat on the edge of the bed.
The same bed where I had found Jordan sitting minutes earlier.
I felt humiliated.
Angry.
Terrified.
And suddenly responsible for a disaster I hadn't created.
I looked at Nia.
"Get your things."
She froze.
"Marcus..."
"I need you to stay somewhere else tonight."
She began sobbing.
"You're my husband."
I stared at her.
"And you're my wife."
She looked hopeful.
Then I continued.
"Which makes what you've done even worse."
Her expression collapsed.
I stood.
"I'm not discussing this anymore tonight. You can stay with your sister. We'll arrange access to your belongings."
Nia covered her mouth.
"Are you divorcing me?"
I looked at her.
"I don't know."
She rushed toward me.
"I love you!"
I stepped away.
"Then why did you betray me?"
She couldn't answer.
I left the bedroom.
Downstairs, I stood alone in the kitchen.
My hands shook so badly that I could barely hold my phone.
I called my brother.
David answered immediately.
"Marcus?"
I tried to speak.
Nothing came out.
"Marcus, what's wrong?"
I swallowed.
"David, I need help."
His voice changed.
"Where are you?"
"Home."
"Are you hurt?"
I closed my eyes.
"Not physically."
He paused.
"What happened?"
I looked toward the staircase.
"Nia took out a loan using my identity."
Silence.
Then David said, "I'm coming over."
I sat at the kitchen table.
For the first time in years, I felt completely alone inside my own home.
Twenty minutes later, David arrived.
He found me staring at the same untouched glass of water.
He sat across from me.
"Tell me everything."
I did.
The bedroom.
Jordan.
The loan.
The kiss.
The failed business.
David listened without interrupting.
When I finished, he leaned back.
"Marcus, you need a lawyer."
I nodded.
"I know."
"And you need to protect your accounts immediately."
"I know."
He looked at me.
"Brother, this is serious."
I stared at him.
"How could she do this?"
David's expression softened.
"I don't know."
I covered my face.
"I loved her."
He reached across the table.
"I know you did."
My phone vibrated.
A message from an unfamiliar number.
I opened it.
There was a photograph.
It showed Nia and Jordan standing together outside an unfinished storefront.
They were holding champagne glasses.
Both were smiling.
But what caught my attention was the date.
The photograph had been taken two months earlier.
And beneath it was a message.
Ask your wife who paid for the engagement ring Jordan gave her.
I stared at the screen.
My heart stopped.
Engagement ring?
I looked up at David.
"What is it?" he asked.
I showed him the message.
His face hardened.
"Marcus..."
I could barely breathe.
Because suddenly, I had to confront a possibility even worse than a secret kiss.
May you like
My wife might have been planning an entirely different future.
And she might have been using my money to build it.
