Chapter 2
I could hear the refrigerator humming.
Outside, somebody was mowing a lawn.
Everything around me looked ordinary.
But the words on Denise's phone had made my entire world feel unfamiliar.
DON'T FORGET WHAT HAPPENS IF MARCUS FINDS OUT ABOUT THE GIRL.
I looked at my wife.
"Answer me."
Denise wiped her cheeks.
"Marcus, please. Not in front of Maya."
Our daughter was still standing near the staircase.
Her eyes moved between us.
"What girl?" she asked.
Denise didn't answer.
I felt my patience slipping.
"Denise, somebody has been receiving thousands of dollars from our household account. Now he's threatening you about a girl. What am I supposed to think?"
"You're supposed to trust your wife."
I almost laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
Because I couldn't believe she was still saying that.
"Trust requires honesty."
Maya stepped forward.
"Mom, are you having an affair?"
Denise recoiled.
"No!"
"Then who is Ethan?"
"I told you. Someone from my past."
"That's not an answer."
My daughter sounded exactly like me.
Under different circumstances, I might have smiled.
Instead, I watched Denise struggle to find words.
Finally, she turned toward Maya.
"Go to your room."
"No."
"Maya!"
Our daughter flinched again.
I stepped between them.
"Stop shouting at her."
Denise looked at me with wounded anger.
"You're turning our daughter against me."
"No, Denise. Your secrets are doing that."
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Maya picked up her phone.
"I'm going upstairs."
Her voice was small.
"But I'm not a little kid anymore. You can't pretend I didn't see this."
She disappeared down the hallway.
I waited until her bedroom door closed.
Then I faced Denise.
"Start talking."
She sank onto a kitchen stool.
"Ethan and I dated before I met you."
"How long?"
"Almost three years."
"And?"
She stared at her hands.
"We ended badly."
"What does that have to do with money?"
"He contacted me several months ago."
"Why?"
"He needed help."
I folded my arms.
"What kind of help?"
"Financial."
"Eight thousand dollars?"
She shook her head.
"Marcus..."
"How much, Denise?"
She went silent.
My stomach sank.
"More than eight thousand?"
A tear rolled down her cheek.
I felt my chest tighten.
"How much?"
"Twenty-four."
I stared at her.
"Twenty-four hundred?"
She closed her eyes.
"Twenty-four thousand."
The room tilted.
I grabbed the edge of the counter.
Twenty-four thousand dollars.
That was more than most people earned in several months.
It was money we could have used for Maya's college expenses.
Money that belonged to our household.
Money Denise had sent to another man without telling me.
I took a slow breath.
"Where did it come from?"
"Our savings."
I looked at her.
"Which savings?"
She began crying harder.
"Marcus, don't be angry."
"Which account?"
"The emergency fund."
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
That account contained money I'd saved for years.
I had built it after my father suffered a medical emergency that nearly bankrupted my parents.
I promised myself my family would never face a crisis without a financial cushion.
And Denise had taken twenty-four thousand dollars from it.
Without a conversation.
Without permission.
Without even a warning.
I walked toward the living room.
I needed space.
Denise followed me.
"Please listen."
I turned.
"Tell me what he has on you."
She stopped.
"What?"
"Ethan is threatening you. That much is obvious."
Her expression changed.
I continued.
"So either you tell me the truth, or I find it another way."
She sat on the sofa.
Her hands were trembling.
"Ethan knows something."
"About what?"
She looked toward the stairs.
"About Maya."
My entire body went cold.
"What about her?"
Denise began shaking her head.
"I was young."
I stared.
"Denise."
"I made mistakes before we got married."
My heart pounded.
"Get to the point."
She looked at me.
Then she said six words that shattered everything I believed.
"Marcus, Ethan might be Maya's father."
I couldn't breathe.
For nineteen years, I had believed I knew the woman I married.
For seventeen years, I had raised Maya as my daughter.
I had held her when she was born.
Changed diapers.
Stayed awake through fevers.
Taught her to ride a bicycle.
Cheered at every school event.
And now Denise was telling me another man might be her biological father.
I stared at her.
"What did you just say?"
She covered her face.
"I'm sorry."
"Is Maya my daughter?"
"I don't know."
Those three words hurt more than any insult I'd ever heard.
I backed away.
"You don't know?"
"I thought she was yours."
"You thought?"
Denise began sobbing.
"Ethan and I saw each other one last time after you and I started dating."
I felt sick.
"When?"
She whispered a date.
I remembered that period clearly.
Denise and I had been dating for almost six months.
I was working long hours, trying to grow my company.
She had told me she was visiting an old friend for a weekend.
I remembered missing her.
Calling her.
Buying flowers for when she returned.
I looked at her.
"You told me you were in Savannah with your cousin."
She nodded.
"I lied."
I sat down.
My legs wouldn't support me.
For several minutes, neither of us spoke.
Then Denise moved closer.
"Marcus, you have to understand. I was afraid."
"Afraid of what?"
"Losing you."
I looked at her.
"So you let me build my entire life on a lie?"
She reached for my hand.
I pulled away.
"Don't."
Her expression crumpled.
"Ethan didn't contact me for years. I thought he was gone."
"And then?"
"He found out about Maya."
"How?"
"I don't know."
"Then what?"
"He started asking questions."
"Questions?"
"He wanted money."
I stared at her.
"Did you get a paternity test?"
She shook her head.
"No."
"Then how does he know?"
"He doesn't."
My anger suddenly sharpened.
"So he's blackmailing you with something neither of you can prove?"
Denise looked ashamed.
"He threatened to tell you."
I stood.
"And you paid him twenty-four thousand dollars to keep me from finding out."
She nodded.
I looked toward the staircase.
My daughter was upstairs.
Probably crying.
Probably wondering whether her parents' marriage was falling apart.
I felt an overwhelming urge to protect her.
Whatever the truth was, Maya hadn't done anything wrong.
I turned back to Denise.
"You are not going to let that man use our daughter again."
She nodded quickly.
"Okay."
"And you're going to give me every message, every payment, and every detail."
Her eyes widened.
"Marcus..."
"No more secrets."
She swallowed.
"There's something else."
I stared at her.
"What now?"
Her voice trembled.
"Ethan isn't just asking for money anymore."
"What does he want?"
She looked toward Maya's bedroom.
"He wants to meet her."
I felt cold.
"Has he contacted her?"
Denise lowered her eyes.
I took one step closer.
"Denise."
She whispered, "I think he already has."
At that exact moment, I heard Maya's bedroom door open.
Our daughter stood in the hallway.
Her face was wet with tears.
And in her hand was a printed photograph.
May you like
She looked directly at me.
"Dad," she whispered, "who is this man standing beside Mom when she was pregnant with me?"
