Chapter 9
The hearing was on a rainy Tuesday.
I sat beside Priya and kept my hands folded so no one could see them shake. Marcus sat across the room with his attorney. Denise was behind him.
Serena had given her statement earlier. She came anyway and sat beside Tasha.
I hadn’t asked her to. When I saw her there, I felt less alone.
The financial case and our divorce followed different paths, but that day brought both into focus. Marcus confirmed that I had never authorized him to sign my name or submit the loan application. He confirmed he had taken forty thousand dollars from our joint savings for the business.
He did not look at me while he spoke.
The court accepted the repayment terms tied to the separation. Marcus would also face consequences for the false documents. Priya had warned me that each process would take time. I listened as the dates and conditions were read aloud and wrote them down.
I wanted one clean ending. Real life handed me a schedule.
When the hearing finished, I walked into the hall. Marcus followed a few steps behind.
“Nia.”
I stopped. Priya stayed close.
“I know an apology won’t cover it,” he said.
“No.”
“I kept thinking I’d make the money back. Then I’d tell you, and you’d be angry for a while, but we’d be okay.”
“You had so many chances to tell me.”
“I know.”
I looked at him. He seemed smaller than he had on the night he came home with pastries. Perhaps I had simply stopped filling in the best version of him.
“When you put my mother’s things in storage,” I asked, “did you think about what that would do to me?”
His eyes filled. “I thought I was moving boxes. I told myself I’d bring them back.”
“You heard me looking for her sweater.”
He nodded.
“You watched me wonder what I’d done with it.”
“I’m sorry.”
I believed he was sorry now. I also believed he had known I was hurting then.
“Do what you agreed to do,” I said. “That’s what I need from you.”
I walked away with Priya.
Outside, Serena stood under the courthouse awning with Tasha. Denise was a few feet away. She had heard enough in the hall to understand that I didn’t want another conversation.
She gave me a small nod. I returned it.
That evening, I cooked one of Mom’s recipes for the first time since finding the box.
It was a simple chicken stew. Tasha chopped vegetables while I read the card aloud. Mom had written to add more pepper than the recipe called for because I always complained it was bland.
“I never complained,” I said.
“You complained every time.”
“I offered helpful comments.”
Tasha grinned. Then she went quiet.
“I was angry with you for a while,” she said.
I set down the spoon. “When?”
“After Mom died. You kept saying you were fine. Marcus always answered the phone when I called, and he said you needed space. I thought you didn’t want me here.”
I stared at her.
“I did need you,” I said. “I thought you were giving me room because I was leaning on you too much.”
Marcus had stood between us there too. Maybe he had thought he was helping. I no longer knew. I did know we had both spent lonely months.
“I should have asked you directly,” Tasha said.
“So should I.”
She crossed the kitchen and hugged me.
The stew simmered behind us. For a moment, I felt Mom in the room as clearly as if she had been correcting the heat under the pot.
Over dinner, Tasha asked what I wanted to do with the spare bedroom. Marcus had used it as an office. The business boxes were finally gone.
“I might make it a place where people can stay,” I said.
“Like who?”
“You, when you get tired of your noisy neighbors. Maybe Alina and Serena if they visit.”
Tasha raised an eyebrow. “Serena?”
“She’s my friend.”
“I know. I’m glad.”
After she left, I stood in the hallway and looked at the wedding photograph. I had kept it there because taking it down felt like erasing the years I had lived.
I carried it to the bedroom closet and placed it in a box with the other photographs from our marriage. Those years had happened. I could remember them without looking at his face each time I came home.
I put one of Mom’s photographs on the hall table instead.
The next morning, Priya called with an update. Marcus had made the first repayment, on time. The divorce terms were moving forward, and the house would remain with me once the final papers were completed.
I thanked her and went outside.
Rain had left the front steps damp. I sat there with my coffee and watched a patch of sunlight reach the porch.
May you like
For months, I had listened for Marcus’s car.
That morning, I heard birds in the hedge instead.
