Chapter 3
I stared at the signature until the letters blurred.
Tasha Bennett.
My full name.
Written beneath a document involving temporary guardianship of a newborn child.
I knew I hadn't signed it.
I hadn't even known Monique existed an hour earlier.
"Darius," I whispered, "tell me that's not what I think it is."
He stood motionless.
Monique looked between us.
Her face was pale.
"I thought you agreed."
I turned toward her.
"You didn't know?"
She shook her head.
"He told me you'd signed everything."
My stomach twisted.
Darius stepped forward.
"Tasha, listen."
I stood.
"No."
He stopped.
I pointed toward the paper.
"You used my name."
His eyes filled.
"I was scared."
I almost laughed.
Scared.
That was apparently enough to justify lying about a death, inventing business trips, and placing my signature on a legal document.
I took a slow breath.
"Why didn't you ask me?"
He looked down.
"Because I thought you'd say no."
The honesty hurt more than another excuse would have.
I stared at him.
"So you decided my answer didn't matter?"
He began crying.
"I didn't want the baby to end up alone."
I looked toward Monique.
She was holding her daughter tightly.
For a moment, I understood his fear.
Malik was gone.
Monique was facing a medical crisis.
The baby needed people who would be there.
But none of that gave Darius the right to control me.
"You should have told me the truth," I whispered.
He nodded.
"I know."
I looked at the document again.
Then something struck me.
"Did anyone actually accept this?"
Monique frowned.
"What?"
"The hospital. The court. Whoever handles guardianship."
Darius hesitated.
Then admitted, "It's a draft."
I stared at him.
"A draft?"
He nodded.
"An attorney prepared it for discussion. Nothing was filed."
I felt a small wave of relief.
The document was not an enforceable guardianship order.
But that didn't erase the forged signature.
I took out my phone.
"I want a copy."
Darius stepped forward.
"Tasha..."
I raised my hand.
"Don't."
He stopped.
I photographed the document.
Then I looked at Monique.
"I'm sorry you were told I agreed to something I knew nothing about."
Tears filled her eyes.
"I'm sorry too."
I shook my head.
"You didn't create this lie."
Darius looked away.
The baby began crying.
Monique tried to adjust her position.
She winced.
I moved closer.
"Do you need the nurse?"
She nodded.
I pressed the call button.
A nurse entered a moment later.
She checked Monique and helped settle the baby.
Then she noticed the tension.
"Is everything okay?"
Monique hesitated.
I answered quietly.
"We've discovered some confusion concerning family arrangements."
The nurse nodded.
"Any discharge or care plans need to be discussed through the appropriate hospital team."
I thanked her.
She explained that Monique's medical team and social worker could help identify safe options if additional support was needed.
I felt relief.
At least there were professionals who understood how to handle situations like this.
After the nurse left, I looked at Darius.
"We need to talk."
He nodded.
"Outside?"
"Yes."
We stepped into the hallway.
The door closed behind us.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then I asked, "How many lies are there?"
He looked exhausted.
"Tasha..."
"Just tell me."
He leaned against the wall.
"I didn't tell you about Malik because I felt responsible for what happened."
My chest tightened.
"Responsible how?"
He looked down.
"We argued before his accident."
I waited.
"He asked me for money. I refused."
I stared at him.
"Why?"
"Because he'd borrowed from me before and hadn't paid it back."
I nodded slowly.
"Then what happened?"
Darius swallowed.
"He said I cared more about my comfortable life than my family."
His voice cracked.
"I told him he needed to grow up."
He covered his face.
"That was the last conversation we had."
My anger softened for a moment.
Not because he'd done nothing wrong.
But because I finally understood the grief beneath his secrecy.
"Darius, you couldn't have known what would happen."
He shook his head.
"I should've helped him."
I took a breath.
"Maybe you could've handled the argument differently. But that doesn't mean you caused the accident."
He looked at me.
Tears rolled down his cheeks.
For a moment, I wanted to hug him.
Then I remembered the document.
I stepped back.
"But grief doesn't give you permission to lie to me."
He nodded.
"I know."
I folded my arms.
"Why did you tell Monique I'd raise the baby?"
He looked toward the room.
"Because Malik asked me to protect them."
I swallowed.
"And you thought I would agree?"
He nodded slowly.
"I thought once you met the baby..."
I stared at him.
"You thought I'd fall in love and forget that you never asked."
He didn't answer.
That silence told me everything.
I took a breath.
"Darius, I love children."
His eyes lifted.
"But I'm not a solution you can promise to someone else."
He began crying harder.
"I understand."
I shook my head.
"No. I don't think you do."
I looked toward the closed hospital door.
"Monique deserves honest support. That baby deserves stability. And I deserve the right to decide my own future."
He nodded.
"I know."
I stepped away.
"I'm going home."
His face changed.
"Tasha, please."
I looked at him.
"I need space."
He reached toward me.
Then stopped himself.
"Can I call you?"
I hesitated.
"Not tonight."
He nodded.
I walked toward the elevator.
Halfway down the hallway, I heard him call my name.
I turned.
His eyes were full of tears.
"Her name is Amara."
I stared at him.
"The baby?"
He nodded.
"Malik chose it."
My throat tightened.
Amara.
I remembered Malik once telling me he wanted children someday.
He said he'd name his daughter something beautiful.
Something that sounded like hope.
I swallowed.
"She's beautiful."
Then I stepped into the elevator.
By the time I reached my car, I was crying.
Not only because Darius had lied.
But because a little girl had entered the world carrying grief she didn't understand.
And because the man I loved had turned a tragedy into another kind of betrayal.
I drove home in silence.
Our apartment looked exactly as it had that morning.
Two coffee mugs in the sink.
A pair of Darius's sneakers near the door.
A framed photograph from our anniversary trip.
Everything familiar.
Everything suddenly uncertain.
I sat on the sofa.
Then my phone vibrated.
A message from an unknown number.
"Hi, Tasha. This is Monique. I'm sorry to bother you."
I stared at the screen.
Another message appeared.
"There's something about Malik's death that Darius hasn't told you."
My heart began pounding again.
I typed back.
"What?"
Three dots appeared.
Then disappeared.
May you like
Finally, Monique replied.
"Before the accident, Malik was trying to tell you something about your boyfriend."
