Chapter 4 - Eight Thousand Dollars MissingAt seven thirty, Marcus sat at the kitchen island with his laptop, three years of bank statements and a cup of coffee he never touched.

Taylor remained upstairs with the baby.

Nicole stood near the refrigerator.

Marcus searched the joint account.

He knew Taylor handled many household expenses during his busiest months at work. He had never watched every transfer.

Trust made bookkeeping feel unnecessary.

Now every line became evidence.

He typed Bell into the transaction search.

Nothing.

"Evelyn Bell?" Marcus asked.

Nicole nodded.

"No transfers under her name."

Nicole looked uncomfortable.

"Maybe Cash App."

Marcus checked linked transactions.

He found them.

Small amounts.

$300.

$450.

$250.

Never enough to attract attention.

Different descriptions.

gift

flowers

family

reimbursement

Marcus began adding.

Nicole watched the total climb.

$1,000.

$2,800.

$4,650.

$6,300.

$8,200.

Marcus stopped.

Eight thousand two hundred dollars.

All after the wedding.

Some during months when he and Taylor had argued about saving for IVF if they struggled to conceive.

Some while Marcus had postponed replacing his twelve-year-old car because they were "trying to be disciplined."

He looked at Nicole.

"Did Evelyn ask her for this?"

"I don't know."

"Did you know?"

"I knew Taylor helped sometimes. I didn't know the total."

Marcus stared at the screen.

"Why?"

Nicole sat across from him.

"Evelyn lost Andre and then her husband two years later. She struggled."

"So my wife became responsible for her?"

"Emotionally, probably."

"Financially."

Nicole nodded.

Marcus looked upstairs.

"Did Taylor visit her?"

Nicole hesitated.

"Yes."

"How often?"

"I don't know."

"Did Evelyn know Taylor was married?"

"Yes."

"Know about the baby?"

Nicole's silence returned.

Marcus laughed bitterly.

"Of course."

He stood.

"Did she know the name?"

"Marcus—"

"Did Evelyn Bell know Taylor planned to name my son after Andre?"

Nicole's eyes filled.

"Yes."

Marcus gripped the counter.

For several seconds he said nothing.

Nicole whispered, "She wasn't happy about it."

That surprised him.

"What?"

"Evelyn told Taylor not to."

Marcus stared.

"His mother told her not to?"

"She said it wasn't healthy."

"And Taylor did it anyway."

Nicole nodded.

Footsteps came down.

Taylor appeared carrying the baby monitor rather than the baby.

"He's asleep."

Marcus turned his laptop around.

"$8,200."

Taylor's eyes went to the screen.

"You counted."

"Interesting word."

"Marcus."

"Did Evelyn ask for it?"

"Sometimes."

"Sometimes?"

"She had property taxes. Medical bills."

"So you used our money."

"I used money I earned too."

"It's a joint account."

"I know."

"Did you tell me?"

"No."

"Then stop trying to make technical ownership sound like honesty."

Taylor sat across from him.

"I felt responsible."

"For what?"

She looked away.

Marcus leaned forward.

"For what, Taylor?"

Nicole stood suddenly.

"I should go."

"No," Marcus said.

Taylor snapped, "Yes. Go."

Nicole hesitated.

Marcus nodded toward the living room.

"Give us privacy, but don't leave the house. Taylor just had a baby."

Nicole accepted that.

She disappeared.

Marcus faced his wife.

"What do you feel responsible for?"

Taylor rubbed her thumb against her palm.

"Andre and I fought the night he died."

Marcus waited.

"He left my apartment angry."

"What happened?"

"I accused him of choosing work over me. He'd missed dinner."

Her eyes blurred.

"He was driving back because I called him."

Marcus felt his anger shift.

Not disappear.

Change shape.

"Was the crash your fault?"

"No."

"The other driver caused it?"

"Yes."

"Then why are you punishing yourself?"

Taylor shook her head.

"Because if I hadn't called—"

"That's grief talking."

"You don't understand."

"No, Taylor. I understand more than you think."

Marcus's younger brother had died when Marcus was nineteen after an asthma attack. He had spent years replaying the last phone call he hadn't answered.

Taylor knew that.

"Grief doesn't give you permission to lie."

"I know."

"You knew what survivor's guilt did to me. And you still thought I wouldn't understand?"

Taylor began crying.

"It wasn't just the crash."

Marcus became still.

"What else?"

Taylor looked toward the hallway where Nicole had gone.

"I was supposed to be with him."

"That night?"

"No."

She swallowed.

"At the courthouse."

Marcus frowned.

Taylor continued.

"Andre wanted to move the wedding up."

Marcus stared.

"You were already planning a wedding?"

"Small. Civil ceremony first. Bigger wedding later."

"When?"

"The courthouse appointment was ten days after he died."

Marcus sat back.

Taylor had not merely lost an old boyfriend.

She had lost the man she expected to marry in ten days.

The revelation complicated everything.

It made her grief more understandable.

It did not make the lies acceptable.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I wanted you to see me, not a widow who technically wasn't a widow."

"You weren't a widow."

"I know."

"Then don't use the word when it benefits the story."

Taylor recoiled.

Marcus regretted the cruelty instantly.

But he didn't retract it.

Taylor looked toward the nursery.

"I met you fourteen months after Andre died. Everybody kept telling me to move forward. Nicole. My mother. Evelyn. My therapist."

"So I became forward."

"No."

"Then what was I?"

"You were the first person who made me laugh without feeling guilty."

Marcus looked away.

That hurt differently.

Taylor reached across the island.

He withdrew his hand before she touched it.

She whispered, "I did fall in love with you."

"Did?"

"Do."

Marcus looked back.

"Then why was I the only person in this marriage who didn't know who Andre really was?"

Taylor had no answer.

Marcus closed the laptop.

"We're separating our finances today."

Panic flashed across her face.

"What?"

"I'm not taking your money. I'm protecting mine."

"We have a newborn."

"I'll pay every bill for my son."

"Marcus—"

"You moved joint money secretly. Trust is gone."

Taylor stood.

"You can't punish me financially because you're angry."

"I'm not. I'm stopping unauthorized transfers."

He spoke calmly.

"We'll keep the joint account for mortgage, utilities and baby expenses. My paycheck goes to a personal account. Yours can do the same."

Taylor stared.

The practical nature of his response seemed to frighten her more than shouting would have.

Marcus opened the old phone again.

"One more question."

Taylor's shoulders dropped.

"Did you communicate with Evelyn about naming the baby?"

"Yes."

"Show me."

Taylor didn't move.

Marcus searched messages.

Evelyn's thread was near the top because Taylor had accessed it months ago.

He opened it.

The last message Taylor had sent from the old phone was dated five months earlier.

A photograph of an ultrasound.

Underneath it:

If it's a boy, I'm giving him Andre's name. I need one thing in this life to prove I didn't lose everything.

Evelyn's reply followed.

Taylor, please don't do that to Marcus. A child should not be born carrying unfinished grief.

Marcus read it twice.

Then a third time.

Taylor had been warned.

Not by Nicole.

By Andre's own mother.

Marcus slid the phone across the counter.

"She understood what this would do to me."

Taylor stared at the message.

Marcus stood.

"And you did it anyway."

As he walked away, Taylor whispered, "There's something you don't know about Evelyn."

Marcus stopped.

He turned.

Taylor's face carried a new fear.

"Andre's mother didn't just give me money after he died."

Marcus waited.

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Taylor whispered:

"She gave me something that belonged to him."