Chapter 4
I didn't sleep that night.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Monique's message.
Malik had been trying to tell me something about Darius.
I wanted to ask immediately.
But Monique was recovering from childbirth and facing a serious medical problem.
I didn't want to overwhelm her.
So I sent one message.
"Please rest. We can talk when you're ready."
She replied with a simple thank-you.
Then I placed my phone beside the bed.
For the first time in six years, I slept alone.
Darius didn't come home.
He sent a message around midnight.
"I'm staying near the hospital. I love you."
I stared at those words.
I love you.
For years, they had made me feel safe.
Now they made me wonder how much love could mean when honesty was missing.
The next morning, I called my best friend, Renee.
Renee had known me since college.
She was a nurse practitioner and had always been direct.
When I told her what happened, she was silent for nearly a minute.
Then she said, "Tasha, that is a lot."
I laughed bitterly.
"That's one way to describe it."
She took a breath.
"Are you safe?"
"Yes."
"Good."
Then she asked, "Do you want me to come over?"
My eyes filled.
"Please."
She arrived with breakfast and tissues.
We sat at my kitchen table.
I showed her the photograph of the forged document.
Her expression hardened.
"He signed your name?"
I nodded.
"On a draft guardianship agreement."
She shook her head.
"That's not something you can ignore."
"I know."
She reached for my hand.
"You're allowed to care about the baby and still be furious with him."
I began crying.
That was exactly what I needed to hear.
Because part of me felt guilty.
Monique was sick.
Amara had lost her father before she was born.
Darius was grieving.
And somehow, I felt selfish for being angry.
Renee squeezed my hand.
"Compassion doesn't mean surrendering your choices."
I nodded.
Later that afternoon, Monique called.
Her voice sounded weak.
"Tasha?"
"Hi."
"Is this a bad time?"
"No."
She hesitated.
"I wanted to explain the message."
I sat down.
"Okay."
She took a breath.
"Malik was worried about Darius's finances."
I frowned.
"What?"
"He told me Darius had been borrowing money from people."
My stomach tightened.
"That doesn't make sense."
Darius worked as a project manager for a construction company.
He earned a good salary.
We split household expenses.
He had no obvious financial problems.
At least, none I knew about.
Monique continued.
"Malik said Darius was using money from a business account to cover personal debts."
I stared at the wall.
"What business account?"
She hesitated.
"The company they started together."
My heart dropped.
"Company?"
Monique sounded surprised.
"You don't know?"
I closed my eyes.
Of course I didn't.
Darius and Malik had apparently opened a small equipment rental business two years earlier.
It was supposed to provide construction tools to local contractors.
But the venture struggled.
Malik wanted to close it.
Darius refused.
According to Monique, their final argument involved missing business funds.
I swallowed.
"Did Malik have proof?"
She nodded.
"He saved some records."
My heart pounded.
"Where are they?"
"In a box of his things."
I took a breath.
"Monique, have you shown them to anyone?"
"Not yet."
I thought carefully.
"Please don't send them to random people. You may want independent legal advice first."
She was quiet.
Then whispered, "I don't know who to trust."
My heart broke.
I understood that feeling.
I told her about a legal aid organization Renee recommended.
I also offered to help her contact the hospital social worker.
She began crying.
"Thank you."
I hesitated.
"Monique, can I ask something?"
"Yes."
"Did Malik know about me?"
She sounded confused.
"Of course."
I swallowed.
"What did he think?"
There was a pause.
Then she said, "He liked you."
My eyes filled.
"He said you were the best thing that ever happened to Darius."
I covered my mouth.
Monique continued.
"He wanted to talk to you because he thought you'd help Darius face the truth."
I stared at the floor.
For months, I'd wondered why Malik stopped coming around.
Darius told me his brother wanted distance.
Now I wondered whether he'd kept us apart.
After the call, I opened my laptop.
I searched for the equipment rental company.
Cole Brothers Equipment Services.
The business registration existed.
Darius and Malik were listed as members.
The company had been formed two years earlier.
I stared at the screen.
Two years.
And Darius had never mentioned it.
I thought about our financial conversations.
The house we wanted to buy.
The wedding we planned.
The savings goals we discussed.
Then I realized something terrifying.
If Darius had hidden a failing business, he might have hidden debts too.
I checked our joint household account.
The balances looked normal.
But several transfers to an unfamiliar account caught my attention.
They were small at first.
Two hundred dollars.
Three hundred.
Five hundred.
Then a transfer of two thousand dollars three months earlier.
I stared at it.
The description read:
COLE BROTHERS.
My stomach dropped.
That was our shared money.
Money intended for rent, utilities, and future savings.
I printed the statements.
Then called Darius.
He answered on the third ring.
"Tasha?"
My voice shook.
"Why is our household money going to Cole Brothers Equipment?"
Silence.
Then he sighed.
"Tasha, please."
I closed my eyes.
"How much more have you hidden?"
He didn't answer.
I took a breath.
"I'm asking one question."
He sounded exhausted.
"What?"
"Did you take money from our joint account for your business without telling me?"
He hesitated.
Then whispered, "Yes."
My chest tightened.
"How much?"
Another silence.
"Darius."
He finally answered.
"About nine thousand dollars."
I sat down.
Nine thousand.
Money I'd helped earn.
Money we'd been saving.
Money he'd moved without telling me.
I felt tears rising.
"Why?"
His voice broke.
"I thought I could replace it."
Those words were becoming painfully familiar.
He had planned to tell me about Malik.
Planned to tell me about Monique.
Planned to ask about Amara.
Planned to replace the money.
Every promise existed somewhere in the future.
While his choices hurt people in the present.
I took a breath.
"I'm going to protect my finances."
He sounded frightened.
"Tasha, don't leave me."
I closed my eyes.
"I need time."
Then I ended the call.
I sat at the kitchen table for a long time.
When Renee returned that evening, I showed her the statements.
She listened quietly.
Then said, "You need legal advice."
I nodded.
"I know."
She squeezed my hand.
"And you need to stop treating his problems as your responsibility to fix."
I began crying.
Because that was exactly what I'd been doing for years.
The next morning, I contacted an attorney.
Her name was Rebecca Hayes.
She agreed to review the financial situation and the guardianship document.
I thought I was finally beginning to understand the truth.
Then Rebecca called me back.
Her voice was serious.
"Tasha, there's something unusual about the draft guardianship papers."
My stomach tightened.
"What?"
"The signature isn't the only issue."
I gripped the phone.
"What else?"
She paused.
"The document lists you and Darius as married."
I stopped breathing.
May you like
Then she added something that made the room spin.
"And it references a marriage certificate."
