Chapter 5 - What Simone Had Been Told
Simone arrived at Marcus’s house that evening carrying the printed email.
Danielle was gone.
She had taken her car and driven to her sister Kendra’s house after Marcus told her he needed space.
Caleb and Jordan remained with Marcus because, legally, Marcus was their father.
That had led to thirty minutes of screaming between him and Danielle on the phone.
“You are not keeping my sons from me.”
“They are our sons.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes,” Marcus had said. “I do.”
The words ended the argument.
Now Simone sat at the dining table with Marcus while Nia slept upstairs.
Caleb and Jordan were watching television in the den.
Simone slid the email across the table.
It came from Marcus’s old Carter Homeworks address.
Simone,
I need a favor I’m not proud to ask for. Things at home have been difficult. Nia has been struggling with Danielle and the boys, and I think some time with you would help. Could she stay through Christmas while we sort things out? I’d rather not discuss it on the phone yet. Danielle will handle the school paperwork.
Marcus
Simone watched him read it.
“That doesn’t sound like me.”
“It didn’t,” Simone admitted.
“Why didn’t you call?”
“Because Danielle called first.”
Marcus looked up.
“What did she say?”
“That you were having a breakdown over Alana.”
His face went still.
“She said you were ashamed.”
Simone’s eyes filled.
“She said the anniversary was hitting you hard and you couldn’t handle conflict with Nia.”
Marcus folded the paper.
“Did she say Nia wanted to leave?”
“Yes.”
He laughed once, bitterly.
“Nia asked me this afternoon if I was mad at her for staying.”
Simone covered her mouth.
“I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t know.”
“I should have checked.”
“So should I.”
Marcus looked at the kitchen.
He had spent years assuming the absence of screaming meant his home was stable.
Maybe stability was not silence.
Maybe silence was simply what happened when children believed nobody would listen.
Simone took out her phone.
“There are texts.”
She handed it to him.
Danielle had written:
She keeps comparing everything to how things were with Alana. Marcus can’t take it anymore.
Another:
I think some distance will help all the kids. Caleb and Jordan feel like guests in their own home.
And another:
Once Nia is settled with you, Marcus will be able to breathe.
Marcus stared.
“Caleb and Jordan have never said that.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
He thought about Danielle’s accusation that morning.
Do you?
Had he unconsciously favored Nia?
Maybe.
He had carried guilt after Alana died.
He had missed birthdays due to work before her illness.
He had promised himself Nia would never feel abandoned again.
Sometimes guilt could disguise itself as devotion.
He needed to examine that honestly.
But even if Danielle had felt unseen, forging an email was not marriage counseling.
Packing a child without her father’s knowledge was not family management.
Using trust money was not fairness.
Simone looked at him carefully.
“Marcus, when did you last see Nia’s trust statements?”
He hesitated.
“Annual review in January.”
“And Ashford?”
“Quarterly.”
“You actually looked?”
“Yes.”
“Or you looked at the summaries Danielle prepared?”
Marcus said nothing.
Simone leaned back.
“Oh, Marcus.”
“I was working seventy-hour weeks.”
“So?”
The word stung.
“You don’t have to punish me.”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“I’m trying to understand how your wife was able to do all this without you noticing.”
Marcus looked away.
Simone softened.
“Nia lost Alana. Then you remarried. Then another adult became responsible for half her daily life while you worked.”
“I thought Danielle loved her.”
“She may have, once.”
Marcus looked back.
“You think she doesn’t?”
“I think love that becomes resentment can do ugly things.”
That sentence stayed between them.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs.
Caleb appeared.
He held a white envelope.
“Dad?”
Marcus turned.
“What is it?”
Caleb came to the table.
“I think this is yours.”
Marcus took it.
The envelope had been opened.
It was addressed to him.
Parkland Property Services.
“Where did you get this?”
Caleb looked guilty.
“Mom gave it to me.”
“When?”
“A few weeks ago.”
“What did she tell you?”
“To put it in her office.”
“Why?”
“She said grown-up mail sometimes goes to the wrong place.”
Marcus opened the letter.
It was a notice confirming termination of Parkland’s management services for Ashford Street.
Requested by Danielle Carter.
Accompanied by written authorization from Marcus Carter.
Marcus looked at Caleb.
“Were there other letters?”
The boy’s face tightened.
“How many?”
“I don’t know.”
“Caleb.”
“Maybe five.”
“Where?”
“Mom’s office.”
Marcus stood.
Danielle had locked the office before leaving.
But the house belonged to both of them.
He retrieved the spare key.
Inside, the desk had been cleared.
Drawers were empty.
The filing cabinet was empty.
Even the trash can had been emptied.
Simone stood behind him.
“She knew you’d look.”
Marcus walked to the closet.
Boxes remained on the top shelf.
He pulled one down.
Receipts.
Inventory sheets.
Old boutique paperwork.
Then he saw a small black notebook.
He opened it.
Numbers filled the pages.
Transfers.
Balances.
Loan payments.
Near the back, one handwritten line was underlined twice.
M leaves 8/22 — N to Simone 8/23.
Marcus stared at the dates.
His Dallas flight had been August 23.
Below it:
school withdrawal
Ashford update
change family access
Simone whispered, “What does ‘change family access’ mean?”
Marcus turned the page.
May you like
Three words were written beneath it.
After she’s gone.
