Chapter 8
Marcus met with investigators the following week.
I wasn’t in the room. Priya called afterward and told me he had acknowledged signing my name, using my identification, and moving the money without telling me.
He also admitted he had lied to Serena about our marriage.
That last admission did not belong in the financial report, but Serena heard it from her own attorney. She called me that evening.
“I thought hearing him say it would make me feel better,” she said.
“Did it?”
“A little. Then I got angry all over again.”
“I understand.”
The truth came in pieces after that.
Caleb produced business records showing the office had been losing money for more than a year. Marcus had known. He had taken new clients’ deposits to cover old expenses and kept assuring everyone the accounts would balance when a large contract came through.
The contract never came.
Caleb had made his own bad decisions. His attorney dealt with those. Marcus had made choices no one forced him to make, and his choices had reached into my home.
Priya worked with the bank and Marcus’s attorney on repayment. Some money could be returned from what remained in his personal account. The rest would become a documented debt as part of our separation.
I signed the papers to begin the divorce.
That afternoon, Denise asked if she could visit.
I told her she could come at four. Tasha offered to stay, but I wanted to hear Denise for myself.
She arrived holding a small box.
“These were at my house,” she said. “Marcus brought them over last month.”
Inside were our holiday photographs and a ceramic ornament my mother had given us.
I took the box.
“Thank you.”
Denise didn’t sit until I offered. She folded her hands in her lap.
“I told myself I was helping my son through a hard time,” she said. “I knew he was lying to you. I knew about Serena. I knew about my own loan. I let those things stay separate in my mind so I wouldn’t have to face what he was doing.”
I watched her carefully.
“I can’t ask you to forgive that,” she said.
“Then what are you asking?”
“To tell you the truth without asking you to comfort me.”
I looked down at the ornament.
It showed our first Christmas in the house. Mom had written the year on the back.
“Did you ever ask him to tell me?” I asked.
“Yes. Twice. When he didn’t, I should have come to you.”
“Yes.”
Denise accepted it without defending herself.
“My loan is my responsibility,” she said. “Marcus will repay it if he can. Either way, I won’t ask you for anything.”
I had been ready for another speech about family loyalty. Her plain words left me unsure what to say.
“I need time,” I told her.
“I know.”
She stood and went to the door. Before leaving, she turned back.
“You were good to him, Nia. Whatever he says about the marriage now, I saw that.”
For months, I had wondered whether everyone around us had been seeing a different marriage from the one I lived in. Her words didn’t settle everything, but I was glad she had said them.
After she left, I called Serena.
She was moving out of the apartment Marcus had helped her choose. She had found a place nearer her sister and had started saving again.
“Do you need help packing?” I asked.
She sounded surprised. “Would that be too strange?”
“Probably. I’m getting used to strange.”
We laughed, and it felt real.
That Saturday, Tasha and I helped her carry boxes. Serena’s sister, Alina, met us there. We didn’t talk about Marcus until we found a set of mugs he had given Serena.
She held one for a moment.
“I liked these,” she said. “Am I allowed to keep liking them?”
Alina took the mug from her and wrapped it in newspaper.
“They’re mugs. Let them be mugs.”
Serena smiled. I did too.
Back at my house, I began sorting through the things Marcus had left. I kept records we might need and boxed the rest. I opened windows. I washed the bedding.
By evening, I was tired enough to sit on the floor of the bedroom.
The room looked bare without his belongings. It also looked like a room I could make my own.
A message came from Priya.
The lender had formally closed the application. No loan would be placed against the house.
I read it twice, then called Tasha.
“The house is safe,” I said.
“For now?” she asked.
“The loan is closed. The rest gets settled in the divorce.”
Tasha exhaled. “Mom would be relieved.”
May you like
I looked at the open window and the last of the evening light.
“So am I.”
