Chapter 13 - The Dead Can Still Disappoint YouTaylor did not sleep.

At sunrise Marcus found her sitting on the nursery floor beneath the blank wall.

The baby slept nearby.

Taylor held a photograph of her mother.

"She lied."

Marcus sat several feet away.

"Yes."

"About me trying to kill myself."

"Yes."

"I can't ask her why."

"No."

Taylor wiped her face.

"I hate that."

Marcus understood.

Death removed confrontation.

It left questions without defendants.

"I spent years angry at Evelyn."

"She spent years afraid contact might hurt you."

Taylor shook her head.

"Mom stole that relationship."

Marcus hesitated.

"Maybe."

Taylor looked at him sharply.

"Maybe?"

"I don't know your mother's exact reason."

"She lied."

"Yes."

"Why are you defending her?"

"I'm not."

Marcus kept his voice calm.

"I'm trying not to do what we've been doing with dead people."

Taylor stared.

"Turning them into one thing."

Her anger softened.

Marcus continued.

"Your mother could have loved you and made a terrible decision."

Taylor looked down.

"Andre could have loved me and wanted to postpone the wedding."

"Yes."

"And I can love you and betray you."

Marcus's jaw tightened.

"Yes."

The word hurt both of them.

Taylor looked at the sleeping baby.

"Nothing stays simple."

"No."

She laughed weakly.

"I hate therapy."

Marcus almost smiled.

Later that morning they met with a family-law attorney about changing the baby's name.

The attorney explained the process carefully.

Both parents agreed.

A petition would be filed.

There could be procedural requirements and waiting periods.

An amended birth certificate would follow only after the court process was complete.

Marcus appreciated the mundane bureaucracy.

No dramatic instant erasure.

Names had records.

Choices had paperwork.

Consequences took time.

"What name are you requesting?" the attorney asked.

Marcus and Taylor looked at each other.

They had not decided.

"We need more time," Marcus said.

The attorney nodded.

"Then take it."

Outside, Taylor said, "Miles?"

Marcus looked at her.

"Do you actually like it?"

"I do now."

"Now?"

"It feels like movement."

Marcus studied her.

"That's a lot to put on a baby's name too."

Taylor gave a small, embarrassed smile.

"Right."

"Maybe names can just be names."

"That's probably healthier."

They walked to the car.

At home, Taylor opened Andre's lockbox again.

Marcus remained in the doorway.

She picked up the engagement ring box.

For the first time, she opened it in front of him.

The ring was simple.

A modest diamond.

Marcus felt no jealousy.

Only sadness for two twenty-four-year-olds who had believed they knew their future.

Taylor removed the ring.

"I wore this around my neck for a year after he died."

Marcus didn't know that.

"I stopped before I met you."

"Okay."

"I used to think taking it off meant I was betraying him."

Marcus leaned against the doorframe.

"What do you think now?"

"That I made everything into loyalty tests."

She looked toward Marcus's bare hand.

"My mother's memory. Andre. You. Even the baby's name."

Marcus said nothing.

Taylor placed the ring back.

Then she picked up the unopened letter.

"For Taylor if we ever don't make it."

Her hands trembled.

Marcus stepped backward.

"You don't have to open that for me."

"I'm not."

She looked at him.

"I'm opening it for me."

Taylor broke the seal.

The paper inside was folded twice.

She read silently.

Marcus watched her expression change.

Shock.

Pain.

Then a strange, almost offended laugh.

"What?"

Taylor covered her mouth.

"He wrote this after one of our breakups."

Marcus waited.

Taylor read parts aloud.

Andre wrote that loving Taylor had been the best and hardest relationship of his life.

He admitted he could be possessive.

He said Taylor sometimes made threats when afraid.

He wrote that if they ever truly ended, he hoped she would not reduce their years together to failure.

Then came the line that broke her.

Taylor read:

"If you love somebody after me, don't punish him for surviving me."

Marcus looked away.

The sentence hit too directly.

Taylor sobbed.

"He wrote that?"

Marcus asked.

She nodded.

"Before we got engaged."

Marcus sat beside her, leaving space.

Taylor continued.

Andre wrote that he hoped both of them would learn to love without making fear into proof.

At the end:

Don't build a shrine out of whatever we were. Remember me honestly.

Taylor folded the letter.

For several minutes she cried without speaking.

Marcus did not hold her.

Not because he lacked compassion.

Because he did not want comfort to become reconciliation before either was ready.

Eventually Taylor whispered, "I did exactly what he asked me not to do."

Marcus looked at the box.

"You couldn't know what the letter said."

"I knew enough."

She touched the sealed envelope, now opened.

"I kept it closed because the version of Andre in my head couldn't say anything I didn't want to hear."

Marcus nodded.

Taylor stared at him.

"And you have been living with the consequences of a conversation between me and a dead man that I refused to finish."

Marcus felt tears finally rise.

He had cried privately once since the discovery.

Now he let them fall.

"I feel humiliated."

Taylor's face crumpled.

"I know."

"No. I need to say it."

She nodded.

"My wife named my son after another man. Your sister knew. His mother knew. People from college probably would've known if they saw the announcement."

Taylor covered her mouth.

"I posted his name."

Marcus laughed through tears.

"I announced him to the world."

Taylor whispered, "I'm sorry."

"I was proud."

"I know."

"I thought we chose it."

Taylor moved instinctively toward him.

Stopped herself.

Marcus noticed.

That restraint mattered.

He wiped his face.

"I don't know if I can forgive this."

Taylor nodded slowly.

"I know."

"And I don't know if understanding why you did it helps."

"I understand."

"But I don't want you destroyed."

Taylor looked at him.

Marcus continued.

"Even if we divorce."

Her breath caught.

That was the first time he said the word.

Neither pretended otherwise.

Taylor stared at the open letter.

Then she whispered:

"If we divorce, I won't blame Andre."

Marcus nodded.

"Good."

She looked directly at him.

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"I'll blame the choices I made while I was alive."

And that was the first moment Marcus believed Taylor had truly begun to separate grief from responsibility.