Chapter 24 - Marcus Without an Audience
Six months after Nia left, Marcus sat alone in a therapist’s office and admitted something he had avoided.
“I liked being needed.”
Dr. Harris waited.
Marcus continued.
“My mother needed money. My father needed his legacy fixed. Lauren needed promises. Nia needed…”
He stopped.
“What did Nia need?” the therapist asked.
Marcus looked at the carpet.
“Nothing I could control.”
The answer surprised him.
“Nia had her own company. Her own friends. Her own opinions.”
“And?”
“I think I kept creating situations where I could be the person solving something.”
“Why?”
Marcus rubbed his hands.
“Because if I solve the problem, nobody looks too closely at me.”
Dr. Harris nodded.
“What happened when Nia looked closely?”
“I felt exposed.”
“So you hid.”
“Yes.”
“And created larger problems to solve.”
Marcus laughed bitterly.
“That sounds ridiculous.”
“Many patterns do when stated plainly.”
Marcus looked toward the window.
He had moved into a smaller apartment.
Sold his SUV.
Stopped attending the church where everyone knew him as Denise Carter’s successful son.
He had not become a monk.
He still worked.
Still saw friends.
Still watched basketball.
Still ordered too much takeout.
Life after catastrophe was disturbingly normal.
“What do you want now?” Dr. Harris asked.
Marcus considered.
“For Nia to be happy.”
“That’s about Nia.”
Marcus nodded.
“What do you want?”
He struggled.
“For nobody to need me.”
The therapist smiled slightly.
“That sounds temporary.”
Marcus laughed.
“Maybe.”
Eventually he said, “I want to know what I want before I promise it to somebody else.”
That answer felt true.
Meanwhile Carter Ridge Construction had to be restructured.
Denise’s planned sale of her majority interest proved difficult because the company carried debt.
Instead, Denise and Marcus negotiated an orderly wind-down of some operations while selling the valuable land parcels separately.
They repaid outstanding obligations.
The grand Carter legacy shrank.
Marcus expected shame.
Instead he felt relief.
At the final company meeting Denise closed Arthur’s old ledger.
“That’s it,” she said.
Marcus stared at the book.
“We’re really shutting down?”
“Parts of it.”
“Dad would hate this.”
Denise looked at him.
“Your father is dead.”
Marcus flinched.
Then laughed.
“Mom.”
“What?”
“That was cold.”
“It was accurate.”
She smiled.
“Your ex-wife taught me labels.”
Marcus’s smile faded gently.
“How is she?”
Denise raised an eyebrow.
“What?”
“You know the rule.”
“I asked how she is.”
“And if she wants you to know, she’ll tell you.”
Marcus stared.
“Who are you?”
Denise laughed.
He was proud of her.
He was also frustrated.
That meant the boundary was working.
Months passed.
Marcus did not date.
Not as punishment.
Because he no longer trusted his own reasons for wanting intimacy.
Lauren sent him one message after changing jobs.
I hope we both become people who don’t need lies to feel chosen.
Marcus did not respond.
The sentence stayed with him.
One afternoon he drove past Westhaven.
Scaffolding covered the front.
Nia’s design company sign hung near the entrance.
He did not stop.
He wanted to.
Instead he kept driving.
That choice seemed small.
It was not.
For years Marcus had entered spaces because wanting access felt like justification.
Now he understood that care sometimes meant remaining outside.
At a red light he saw a woman wearing natural curls cross the street.
For half a second his chest reacted.
Not Nia.
The light changed.
Marcus drove on.
That evening he took his wedding ring from the chain around his neck.
The divorce had been final for months.
He had kept wearing it because guilt felt like loyalty.
Now he understood guilt could become another way to center himself.
He placed the ring inside a drawer.
Not thrown away.
Not displayed.
Stored.
Then his phone rang.
Denise.
“Marcus?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
He laughed.
“You called me after nine. Something is wrong.”
She hesitated.
“I got an invitation.”
“To what?”
“Westhaven’s opening.”
Marcus stopped.
“Nia invited you?”
“No. Her office sent general invitations to everyone connected with the project.”
“Are you going?”
“I don’t know.”
Marcus sat down.
“Do you want to?”
“Yes.”
“Then go.”
“What about you?”
“I didn’t get one.”
Silence.
Marcus felt the old wound open.
Then he noticed something new.
He did not reach for anger.
He did not call unfairness.
He did not search for a way inside.
He simply breathed.
Denise said gently, “Are you okay?”
“No.”
“That’s allowed.”
Marcus smiled sadly.
“Yeah.”
After they hung up, Marcus opened his email.
He searched “Westhaven.”
No invitation.
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Then he closed the laptop.
For once, he let the door remain closed.
