Chapter 3: Three Years Ago
I read the message twice.
Then a third time.
*You need to ask your husband what happened three years ago.*
My first reaction wasn't anger.
It was confusion.
Three years ago.
I searched my memory.
Our anniversary.
Vanessa's promotion.
The house refinance.
Her mother's surgery.
A business trip I took to Chicago.
Nothing.
Then Vanessa whispered my name.
“Marcus.””
I looked at her.
“What happened three years ago?””
She shook her head.
“Nothing.””
I held up the phone.
“Then why would someone send this?””
“I don't know.””
Derrick sat very still.
I noticed his reaction.
He had gone pale.
I turned toward him.
“You know.””
“No.””
“You know something.””
Derrick looked at Vanessa.
She gave him a tiny shake of her head.
That was enough.
I stood.
“I'm done playing this game.””
Vanessa grabbed my sleeve.
“Please don't leave.””
I looked down at her hand.
Her wedding ring pressed against my wrist.
“Why?””
“Because we need to talk.””
“We've been talking.””
“No. We haven't.””
Her voice broke.
“I've been lying.””
I stared at her.
“At least that's honest.””
She released my sleeve.
Derrick stood.
“Vanessa, tell him.””
She looked at him.
“Tell me what?””
Derrick exhaled.
“I can't keep doing this.””
“Derrick,” she whispered.
“You told me you were going to tell him.””
“I was.””
“When?””
She couldn't answer.
I looked between them.
“You two have been discussing me.””
Derrick's eyes dropped.
“For how long?””
“Marcus,” Vanessa said, “please.””
“For how long?””
Derrick finally spoke.
“Three months.””
My stomach tightened.
Three months.
Three months of secret conversations about me.
Three months of meetings.
Three months of lies.
I looked at Vanessa.
“Did you bring him to our house?””
She shook her head.
“No.””
“Did he know where we lived?””
“Yes.””
“Did you sleep with him?””
She closed her eyes.
That was the answer.
I stepped away from the table.
For a moment, I couldn't hear anything.
The restaurant lights seemed too bright.
The room tilted slightly.
I grabbed the back of the chair.
Vanessa rose.
“Marcus.””
I held up my hand.
“Don't.””
She stopped.
I looked at Derrick.
“You knew she was married.””
“Yes.””
“And you still did this.””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
Derrick swallowed.
“Because she told me you were leaving her.””
I looked at Vanessa.
“What?””
She shook her head.
“I never said that.””
Derrick stared at her.
“You said he was going to divorce you.””
“I said we were having problems.””
“You said he didn't love you anymore.””
“I was angry.””
“You said he had another woman.””
I froze.
“What woman?””
Vanessa's face went blank.
Derrick realized what he had just revealed.
I took one step toward him.
“What woman?””
“There wasn't one.””
Vanessa's voice was barely audible.
“You told him there was.””
“I didn't.””
“You did.””
“I said Marcus was distant.””
“You told me he was cheating,” Derrick said.
The words hung between us.
I looked at my wife.
“Why would you tell him I was cheating?””
She wiped her cheek.
“I don't know.””
“No.””
I shook my head.
“That's not good enough.””
She looked at me.
“I was trying to make you look like the bad guy.””
“Why?””
“Because I wanted to leave.””
“Then leave.””
Her mouth trembled.
“I couldn't.””
“Why?””
She looked down at her hands.
“Because of what happened three years ago.””
There it was again.
The same phrase.
Three years ago.
I pulled out my chair and sat.
“Tell me.””
Vanessa stared at me for a long time.
Then she said, “Three years ago, I found something.””
“What?””
“A file.””
“What file?””
“In your office.””
I frowned.
“What were you doing in my office?””
“You were out of town.””
“For Chicago?””
She nodded.
“What was in the file?””
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Documents.””
“What documents?””
She looked at Derrick.
He lowered his head.
I felt a cold sensation move through my chest.
“Vanessa.””
She finally whispered:
“Divorce papers.””
I stared at her.
“That doesn't make sense.””
“They had your signature.””
I shook my head.
“I never filed for divorce.””
“I know.””
The restaurant seemed to disappear.
I leaned forward.
“What do you mean, you know?””
Vanessa's lips parted.
“You didn't sign them.””
“Then who did?””
She didn't answer.
I stood.
“Who?””
Her phone vibrated again.
Another message.
This one contained a photograph.
Vanessa looked at it.
Then she dropped the phone onto the table as if it had burned her.
I picked it up.
The photo showed a document.
A divorce petition.
My name.
Vanessa's name.
And beneath my signature was a date from three years earlier.
But the signature wasn't mine.
I knew it instantly.
Because there was one detail the person who forged it didn't know.
My real signature had changed after my father died.
I stared at the page.
Then I saw the name typed beneath the witness line.
My breath caught.
The witness wasn't Vanessa.
It wasn't Derrick.
It wasn't anyone I recognized.
It was someone whose name I had not heard in three years.
Someone who was supposed to be gone.
I looked at Vanessa.
“Why is your sister's name on this?””
Vanessa's face collapsed.
“My sister died three years ago.””
I slowly lowered the phone.
Derrick stepped backward.
And for the first time that night, Vanessa looked at me with something deeper than guilt.
She looked terrified.
Then the restaurant's front door opened.
A woman walked inside.
Vanessa saw her.
May you like
Her chair scraped violently against the floor.
“That's impossible,” she whispered.