Chapter 15 - A Room With Her Name
The apartment Nia chose was not impressive.
That surprised everybody.
It was a two-bedroom condo in a renovated building near Grant Park.
Smaller than the house she shared with Marcus.
No sweeping staircase.
No formal dining room.
No marble bathroom.
But the second bedroom had tall windows and morning light.
Nia stood there while her realtor, Caroline, listed features.
“Original brick. New HVAC. Roof replaced three years ago—”
“I’ll take it.”
Caroline blinked.
“You don’t want to see the other two?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
Nia looked at the sunlight.
“Yes.”
For almost a decade, every home decision had been made through plural language.
We need.
We should.
Our budget.
Now Nia wanted one room whose purpose did not require negotiation.
Tessa cautioned her not to make a large purchase without considering the pending divorce.
So Nia leased instead.
A twelve-month rental.
Temporary, but chosen.
Marcus helped move nothing.
Imani organized six friends and one rented truck.
By sunset, Nia had a mattress, desk, dishes and boxes stacked everywhere.
Imani raised a plastic cup.
“To nobody secretly forming an LLC in this apartment.”
Nia laughed.
“Standards are low.”
“Trauma does that.”
After everyone left, Nia sat alone on the floor eating takeout.
Her phone buzzed.
Marcus.
She considered ignoring it.
Then answered.
“What?”
“Daniel told me you moved.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“You don’t need the address.”
Silence.
That hurt him.
Nia could hear it.
“I’m not going to show up.”
“I believe you.”
That surprised both of them.
Marcus said, “Then why can’t I know?”
“Because I need one place that isn’t connected to you.”
He inhaled.
“Okay.”
Another silence.
Then he said, “I started therapy.”
Nia stared at the cardboard boxes.
“I’m glad.”
“I’m not telling you to change your mind.”
“Good.”
“I just wanted you to know.”
She almost said I know and nearly laughed at the irony.
Instead she said, “I hope you tell the truth there.”
Marcus whispered, “Me too.”
After they hung up, Nia cried.
Not because she wanted him back.
Because a part of her wished he had become this honest before destroying their marriage.
People often changed after consequences.
That did not make the consequences unfair.
Three days later Lauren asked to meet.
Tessa approved as long as the conversation remained voluntary and Nia did not make agreements.
They met in a coffee shop.
Lauren looked different without the polished real-estate persona.
Tired.
Human.
Nia hated that too.
It was easier to hate a villain.
Lauren slid a flash drive across the table.
“Everything I have.”
“Why?”
“I’m leaving the Westhaven deal.”
“Smart.”
“I signed a release of my commission claim.”
Nia looked up.
“You gave up money?”
“Yes.”
“That doesn’t absolve you.”
“I know.”
Nia almost groaned.
Apparently everybody had adopted Marcus’s phrase.
Lauren continued.
“There’s a recording.”
“The one with Denise?”
“Yes.”
“What’s on it?”
“Listen.”
Nia inserted an earbud.
Denise’s voice filled one ear.
Recorded in March.
“You need to stop seeing my son.”
Lauren responded, “He says he’s leaving Nia.”
Denise: “Marcus says whatever makes the next five minutes easier.”
Lauren: “Then tell her.”
A long pause.
Denise: “Not until Westhaven closes.”
Nia stopped the recording.
Her chest tightened.
She played it again.
Not until Westhaven closes.
The motive was undeniable.
Denise had knowingly postponed Nia’s truth because the deal depended on stability.
Maybe not legally.
But morally.
Financially.
Personally.
Nia removed the earbud.
Lauren stared at her coffee.
“I should have sent it months ago.”
“Yes.”
“I was afraid.”
“Of losing Marcus?”
“And the deal.”
Nia nodded.
“Thank you for finally saying it.”
Lauren looked up.
“Saying what?”
“That everybody’s silence had a price.”
Lauren’s eyes filled.
“Yes.”
Nia pushed the flash drive into her purse.
“Why did you record Denise?”
“Because I started thinking Marcus might leave me holding liability if the deal fell apart.”
Nia laughed softly.
“So even while sleeping together, you didn’t trust him.”
“No.”
“And somehow that didn’t tell you anything?”
Lauren looked down.
“It should have.”
Nia stood.
Lauren said, “Do you hate me?”
Nia considered.
“No.”
Lauren looked surprised.
“That feels worse.”
“It should.”
Nia picked up her bag.
“I don’t hate you because hatred is expensive, and I’ve spent enough on this relationship.”
At the door, Lauren called her name.
Nia turned.
“There’s one more thing.”
Of course.
Lauren reached into her bag.
She removed a sealed envelope.
“Marcus asked me to destroy this in April.”
Nia stared at it.
“What is it?”
“A draft buyout agreement.”
“I already know about that.”
“Not this version.”
Nia opened the first page.
Then she saw the proposed post-refinance ownership.
Marcus Carter — 45%.
Lauren Bennett — 10%.
Denise Carter — 15%.
And one more entity:
Nia Carter Design Studio — 30%.
Nia looked up.
Lauren said, “He was planning to give you part of Westhaven.”
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