Chapter 7 - Keisha’s Version
Keisha arrived at the coffee shop carrying a thick envelope.
Nia noticed immediately that she looked different from the woman at the steakhouse.
No red dress.
No polished confidence.
Jeans, sweatshirt, braids tied back.
A tired mother.
“I printed things,” Keisha said.
Nia nodded.
“Thank you.”
They sat across from each other.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Finally Keisha said, “I owe you an apology.”
Nia looked at her.
“For what?”
“I believed him.”
“That’s not something you did to me.”
Keisha shook her head.
“I said things about you.”
“To Andre?”
“To my sister. My mother. I called you controlling.”
Nia felt the sting but appreciated the honesty.
“Why?”
“Because he told me Malik felt unwanted at your house.”
Nia’s eyes widened.
“Malik said that?”
“No.”
Keisha looked ashamed.
“Andre said Malik said it.”
Nia leaned back.
“Malik has never acted uncomfortable with me.”
“I know.”
Keisha twisted the coffee sleeve between her fingers.
“I asked him last night.”
Nia’s stomach dropped.
“You involved him?”
“Not in the adult stuff. I asked if he liked staying at your house.”
“And?”
“He asked why I was asking because he loves his room there.”
Nia’s eyes filled unexpectedly.
She looked away.
Keisha continued.
“Andre told me you counted every dollar spent on Malik. He said you thought Maya deserved more because she lived with y’all full time.”
“That never happened.”
“I know.”
Keisha opened the envelope.
Inside were printed screenshots.
“He started talking differently about you last year.”
“When?”
“Around May.”
That was three months before AKM Holdings formed.
“What did he say?”
“That the marriage felt unequal.”
Nia almost laughed.
“He never said that to me.”
“He said you controlled the house because your salary was steadier.”
Nia shook her head.
“Andre earns more than I do in good years.”
“I know that now.”
Keisha slid over a page.
A text from Andre:
Nia wants everything in her name so Maya inherits it. I’m not letting Malik end up with nothing.
Nia read it twice.
“That’s insane.”
Their house was jointly titled.
Their wills, drafted after marriage, created separate trusts for both children and divided shared assets between them.
Andre knew that.
Keisha pulled out another page.
“He told me the duplex was supposed to be his way of balancing things.”
“Balancing what?”
“What Malik would inherit.”
Nia’s anger shifted.
This was no longer merely spending.
Andre had constructed a moral justification for secrecy.
“He made you a forty-percent member.”
Keisha nodded.
“I didn’t put much money in.”
“How much?”
“Three thousand.”
“Why?”
“He said we would eventually rent one side and keep the other available for Malik when he was older.”
“That sounds almost reasonable.”
“That’s why I agreed.”
Nia looked at her.
“Did you think Andre would live there?”
Keisha hesitated.
“He implied he might.”
“With you?”
“No.”
The answer came firmly.
“He never said we were getting back together.”
Nia believed her.
“But?”
“He said if the marriage ended, he might take one unit temporarily.”
Nia stared at the coffee.
The betrayal hurt differently now.
Not affair.
Architecture.
Andre had been constructing a parallel future.
Keisha slid another document forward.
“This is what scared me.”
It was a draft email Andre had forwarded to her.
Subject:
Cash-Out Strategy.
The body referenced accessing approximately $70,000 in home equity after refinancing the marital residence.
Nia’s fingers went cold.
“He told me you were already discussing it,” Keisha said.
“We discussed refinancing because he said rates might improve.”
“Did you agree to cash out?”
“Never.”
Keisha closed her eyes.
“Damn.”
Nia kept reading.
Twenty-five thousand toward the duplex down payment.
Ten thousand to eliminate AKM startup debt.
Fifteen thousand to “family reserve.”
Twenty thousand unspecified.
“Who wrote this?”
“Andre.”
“Did he send it to a lender?”
“I don’t know.”
Nia photographed every page.
Keisha watched her.
“There’s something else.”
Nia looked up.
“He told me if you asked about the extra transfers, I should say Malik had tutoring and medical expenses.”
Nia’s chest tightened.
“So he coached you to lie.”
Keisha nodded.
“I never had to. You never asked.”
Nia sat back.
The saddest part was obvious.
Andre’s deception relied less on sophisticated concealment than on trust.
He had assumed the two women would never compare notes.
Keisha whispered, “I feel stupid.”
Nia shook her head.
“He built two different realities.”
“For both of us.”
“Yes.”
Keisha looked through the window.
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Nia gathered the documents.
“But I’m going to know exactly what he did before he gets to tell me what it means.”
Her phone vibrated.
An email from Andre.
We need to stop involving Keisha. This is our marriage.
Nia showed the screen.
Keisha stared.
Then her own phone buzzed.
Same sender.
Andre.
Please don’t let Nia manipulate you into destroying something we built for Malik.
The women looked at each other.
Same minute.
Two different messages.
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Two different realities.
Andre was still doing it.
