Chapter 6: The Plan Behind My Wedding
The email was dated twelve days earlier.
Derrick had written that the remaining money needed to be transferred before the wedding. He mentioned a property deposit, a business arrangement, and a deadline at the end of the month.
Then came the sentence that made me read the email twice.
Once Marcus signs the marriage paperwork, we need to make sure the accounts are arranged the way we discussed.
I looked at Danielle.
"What does this mean?""
She shook her head.
"I don't know. That's why I kept the email.""
I returned to the page.
Derrick had written about consolidating expenses, moving money, and making sure the wedding didn't interfere with their plans.
The language was vague, but one thing was unmistakable.
He and Tasha had been discussing a future that involved me signing documents I hadn't seen.
I lowered the paper.
"How did you get this?""
"She forwarded it to me by mistake.""
I frowned.
"Why would she forward you an email from him?""
"She was sending me a vendor schedule. I think she selected the wrong attachment.""
"And you kept it?""
"I was already worried about the money she owed me. When I saw the email, I saved a copy. I didn't know what else to do.""
I understood.
Danielle had no reason to trust Tasha's explanations anymore, and the email was directly connected to a series of payments she couldn't reconcile.
I placed the pages back in the envelope.
"Thank you for telling me.""
Danielle nodded, but her expression remained troubled.
"There's one more thing you should know.""
I waited.
"Last Thursday, Tasha asked me to find a notary who could come to your house before the wedding.""
I stared at her.
"A notary?""
"She said you needed to sign some documents related to a new business opportunity. She described it as routine paperwork.""
"What documents?""
"She didn't tell me. I asked whether you knew about the appointment, and she said you'd agreed to it.""
I felt my stomach twist.
"I never agreed to anything.""
"I figured that out when I saw the email.""
I sat silently for a moment, trying to imagine what Tasha might have planned.
She had access to our wedding account.
She had sent thousands of dollars to Derrick.
She had apparently discussed moving money after I signed marriage documents.
And now she had been arranging for a notary to visit our home.
I couldn't tell whether the plan involved a legitimate business transaction, a financial trap, or something else entirely.
But I knew I wasn't signing anything without understanding every page.
"Do you have the notary's contact information?"" I asked.
Danielle opened her phone.
"I saved the message because I needed to confirm the appointment. Here.""
She showed me the exchange.
Tasha had written: Can you have him available Saturday afternoon? Marcus will sign whatever is needed.
The notary had replied that he would need to see the documents in advance.
Tasha had answered: I'll bring them.
I checked the date.
Saturday.
Tomorrow.
I looked up.
"Did you tell her you'd give me the information?""
"No. I told her I'd check availability and get back to her.""
I took a photograph of the exchange.
Then I stood.
"I need to go home.""
Danielle gathered her folder.
"Marcus, please be careful. I don't know what she's planning, and I don't want you making accusations you can't support.""
"I won't.""
"And don't tell her I gave you these documents.""
I hesitated.
"Why?""
"Because if she realizes I've been keeping records, she'll know what evidence I have. I still need to recover the money she owes me.""
I nodded.
"Understood.""
Before I left, Danielle gave me her business card and a copy of the invoices she'd discussed.
I thanked her again and walked to my truck.
The drive home passed in a blur.
I kept thinking about the email.
Once Marcus signs the marriage paperwork.
What paperwork?
Our marriage license didn't require the kind of financial arrangements Derrick seemed to be describing. We had already discussed the wedding venue, the guest list, and the honeymoon.
Nothing else had been mentioned.
When I arrived home, Tasha was sitting at the kitchen island with her laptop open. A cup of coffee sat beside her, and a stack of papers lay neatly arranged near her elbow.
She looked up.
"Where have you been?""
"Out.""
"Doing what?""
"Handling something.""
Her eyes narrowed.
"Is this how we're going to communicate now? In half-answers?""
I set my keys on the counter.
"Apparently.""
She closed the laptop.
"Marcus, we need to talk about last night.""
"Yes, we do.""
She took a deep breath.
"I know I made mistakes with the money.""
I waited.
She seemed surprised that I didn't interrupt.
"I was trying to get the business to the next level. I thought I could make the money back before you noticed.""
"How much did you plan to take?""
Her eyes dropped.
"I didn't plan to take a specific amount.""
"Then why did you keep making transfers?""
"Because the opportunity required funding.""
"What opportunity?""
She rubbed her forehead.
"Derrick was helping me secure a commercial property for an event studio.""
I stared at her.
"You told me he was a business contact.""
"He is.""
"Why does he need eighteen thousand six hundred dollars from our wedding account?""
"He was going to put the money toward the deposit.""
"Where's the property?""
"Still being negotiated.""
"Who owns it?""
"I don't know the final details yet.""
I laughed quietly.
"You sent almost nineteen thousand dollars to a man to help buy a property you can't even identify?""
She slammed her hand on the counter.
"Stop making me sound stupid!""
"I'm not. I'm asking questions.""
"You're judging me!""
"Because you lied to me.""
She stood and walked toward the window.
For several seconds, she stared at the street.
Then she turned around, and tears filled her eyes.
"I was scared, Marcus.""
"Of what?""
"Of failing.""
I didn't speak.
She wiped her face.
"You have a steady job. You know exactly what you're going to earn next month. My income changes constantly.
Some months are great. Other months, I have to borrow money to cover expenses.""
"Then you should have told me.""
"I thought I could fix it before you found out.""
"By taking more money?""
She shook her head.
"I thought Derrick could help.""
"Help you do what?""
"Build the business.""
I studied her.
"Why did he write that everything would be easier once the wedding was canceled?""
Tasha stopped crying.
Her expression became unreadable.
"Who told you that?""
I had made a mistake.
I realized it immediately.
She stepped closer.
"Who told you about that email?""
I said nothing.
"Marcus, who have you been talking to?""
I looked at her.
"Why does it matter?""
"Because you're getting information from people who don't understand my business.""
"Then explain the email.""
She shook her head.
"That's not what it sounds like.""
"What does it sound like?""
She opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Then she walked to the kitchen island and picked up her laptop.
"Derrick was talking about canceling a business arrangement, not our wedding.""
"Then why did he mention marriage paperwork?""
"I don't know!""
Her voice rose sharply.
"Maybe he was referring to the documents for the property. Maybe he was talking about the partnership. I don't know every word he writes!""
I watched her carefully.
"Did you arrange for a notary to come here tomorrow?""
She went still.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then she lowered her laptop.
"That was supposed to be a surprise.""
"A surprise?""
"I wanted you to sign some partnership documents so I could include you in the business.""
I stared at her.
"You were going to surprise me with legal documents?""
"I thought you'd be happy to be part of something I'm building.""
"Without telling me what it was?""
She looked away.
I could see her searching for an explanation that might make sense.
Finally, she whispered, "I wanted us to have a future.""
I thought of Mama's warning.
I thought of Danielle's email.
I thought of the money we'd saved and the documents Tasha wanted me to sign.
"Cancel the notary," I said.
Her head snapped up.
"Marcus—"
"Cancel it.""
She stared at me, breathing hard.
Then she grabbed her phone and began typing.
"There. Happy?""
"No.""
She threw the phone onto the couch.
"What do you want from me?""
"The truth.""
"I've told you the truth!""
"No. You've given me different explanations for the same money.""
She pressed both hands against her face.
Then, very quietly, she said, "If I tell you everything, you'll leave.""
I felt my chest tighten.
"Everything about what?""
She lowered her hands.
For the first time since I'd known her, she looked genuinely frightened.
"Marcus, I didn't think it would get this far.""
I stepped closer.
"Get what far?""
She glanced toward the front door, then back at me.
"Derrick said the money would be replaced before the wedding. He promised me that once the deal went through, we could pay everything back and nobody would ever know.""
"Nobody would know what?""
Her lips trembled.
Then she whispered a sentence that made the room feel suddenly smaller.
"He wasn't just borrowing the money, Marcus. He was using your name.""
I stared at her.
"What does that mean?""
She began to cry again.
And before she could answer, someone knocked three times on our front door.
Tasha looked toward the sound.
All the color disappeared from her face.
"Don't open it," she whispered.
I turned toward the door.
"Who is it?""
Tasha grabbed my arm.
"Marcus, please. You don't know what he'll do if he finds out I've told you.""
I pulled my arm free.
Then I walked toward the front door.
And through the glass, I saw the man whose name had been attached to our missing wedding money standing on my porch.
May you like
Derrick Coleman had come to my house.
And he was carrying a folder with my name written across the front.
