Chapter 17 - The House Taylor Almost BoughtTaylor admitted it immediately.

That somehow made Marcus angrier.

"You tried to buy Evelyn's house?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"Four months before we bought this one."

"We were engaged."

"Yes."

"Did I know we were apparently shopping for a house?"

"No."

Marcus stared.

"Explain."

Taylor sat at the dining table.

"Evelyn was behind on taxes and the mortgage."

"You already told me."

"I thought if I bought the house, she could stay."

"With what money?"

"Andre's insurance money."

Marcus laughed bitterly.

"Of course."

Taylor flinched.

Marcus continued.

"So you were going to become landlord to your dead fiancé's mother while planning a marriage to me."

"I didn't think of it like that."

"How did you think of it?"

"Saving the house."

"Why did the house need saving?"

Taylor looked confused.

"Because it was Andre's."

There it was.

The answer.

Marcus sat opposite her.

"Did you make an offer?"

"No."

"I need accurate language."

"I spoke to a lender. They pulled information. Evelyn refused."

"Why?"

"She told me I was trying to preserve a museum."

Marcus almost smiled at Evelyn's consistency.

"And?"

"I got angry."

"Then?"

"She refinanced with help from her sister. Later I gave her the twelve thousand toward taxes."

Marcus nodded slowly.

"Did you tell me any of this?"

"No."

"Why?"

"You know why."

"I want you to say it."

Taylor closed her eyes.

"Because you would've realized how much of my life still revolved around Andre."

Marcus leaned back.

There was no more mystery.

Every secret returned to one fear:

If Marcus saw all of Taylor, he might refuse to marry her.

She had chosen marriage without informed consent.

Not legally.

Emotionally.

"Did you ever consider buying that house for us?"

Taylor's silence lasted too long.

Marcus stood.

"You did."

"Briefly."

"Jesus."

"I never asked you because I knew it wasn't fair."

"But you imagined raising our family in Andre's childhood home."

"I was sick with grief."

"You were functioning enough to contact a lender."

Taylor stood too.

"Do you think I don't know how bad this sounds?"

"I don't care how it sounds."

Marcus pointed toward the floor.

"I care that our life keeps having hidden blueprints underneath it."

Taylor began crying.

Marcus continued.

"This house. The money. The baby's name. The scholarship. Evelyn. Every time I think I've reached the foundation, there's another room."

"I don't have anything else."

"You've said that before."

"I know."

"That's the problem."

Taylor covered her face.

Marcus wanted to leave.

Instead he went upstairs because Miles had started crying.

He changed him.

Fed him.

Held him.

Parenthood forced interruption into anger.

You could not spiral indefinitely when a seven-pound human needed a bottle.

Later Taylor entered the nursery.

"Can I sit?"

Marcus shrugged.

She sat on the floor.

"I emailed you everything."

"What?"

"Searches from my old email. Property records. Messages with Evelyn. Anything connected to the house."

Marcus looked at her.

"I'm not going through thousands of messages."

"Okay."

"I'm done excavating."

Taylor blinked.

"What?"

"If something important exists, tell me. I'm not spending months turning into a forensic examiner."

Her eyes filled.

"I understand."

Marcus looked at his son.

"I have to decide based on what I know now."

Taylor whispered, "What do you know?"

Marcus considered.

"I know you loved Andre."

She nodded.

"You didn't finish grieving him."

Another nod.

"You lied about how serious that relationship was."

"Yes."

"You concealed the source of money used for our home."

"Yes."

"You secretly spent some joint money connected to his family and memorial."

"Yes."

"You considered buying his childhood home."

"Yes."

"You named our son after him knowing I didn't know the truth."

Taylor's voice broke.

"Yes."

Marcus breathed slowly.

"And I know you wrote the truth before our wedding."

Taylor looked up.

"But didn't send it."

"Yes."

"You've been transparent since I found out."

"Yes."

"You've started therapy."

"Yes."

"You agreed to change the name."

"Yes."

Marcus looked at her.

"Both versions are true."

Taylor whispered, "I know."

"That's what makes this hard."

If Taylor had shown no remorse, leaving would have been simple.

If the deception had been trivial, staying would have been simple.

Instead Marcus loved a person capable of both tenderness and profound dishonesty.

Taylor looked toward the blank wall.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Stop asking that."

She nodded.

"What do you want to do?"

Taylor was silent.

Marcus waited.

Finally she said:

"I want to become somebody who can survive people being disappointed in me."

Marcus watched her.

"So I stop controlling information."

"That's a start."

"I want to mourn my mother honestly too."

He nodded.

"And Andre."

"Yes."

Taylor looked directly at him.

"And if our marriage ends, I want to be able to say I told the truth before it did."

Marcus felt something shift.

Not forgiveness.

Respect.

Small.

Fragile.

Real.

The following morning, Taylor received confirmation from the attorney handling the baby's petition.

The court date had been scheduled.

Two weeks.

The legal name Andre Reed would soon be addressed formally.

Marcus stared at the notice.

Then Taylor said:

"There's one person I think should know before we do this."

Marcus frowned.

"Who?"

"Malcolm."

"Andre's cousin?"

"Not for permission."

"Then why?"

Taylor looked at him.

"Because he helped run the scholarship, and the baby's birth announcement reached people from college. Rumors are already starting."

Marcus's stomach tightened.

"What rumors?"

Taylor showed him her phone.

An old classmate had sent:

Is it true you named your baby after Andre and your husband didn't know?

Marcus stared.

The humiliation he had feared was no longer imaginary.

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The secret was leaving the house.

And this time, Marcus would have to decide whether shame would control him the way grief had controlled Taylor.