Chapter 3: The Money My Mother Left Behind
“My mother didn't leave me an inheritance,” I said.
Darius looked at me too quickly.
“Of course she did.””
The words came out before he could stop himself.
I felt my pulse pounding in my throat.
“You told me Marcus had exaggerated what she left behind.””
“I said your mother didn't have much money.””
“Then why did you say, 'Of course she did'?””
Darius reached for my hand.
“Nia, you're upset. You're getting married in the middle of a financial crisis, and someone is feeding you lies.””
“Who is the woman in that photograph?””
“I don't know.””
“You're shaking.””
“Because you're accusing me of something terrible!””
His voice rose.
The venue manager quietly backed toward the door. Rachel remained beside the dressing table, her arms folded, her eyes fixed on Darius.
I looked down at the photograph again.
The woman wore a gray suit and carried a leather portfolio. Darius stood beside her outside a bank, smiling as though they'd just concluded a profitable meeting.
I enlarged the image.
A sign above the entrance read Harrington Private Bank.
The date stamp was from six months earlier.
Two months before Darius had contacted me for the first time.
“Why were you meeting with a private banker?”” I asked.
“Because I have a business.””
“What business?””
“Financial consulting.””
“What do you consult on?””
He dragged a hand over his face.
“Corporate accounts. Investments. Acquisitions. Do you want my entire résumé?””
“Yes.””
He stared at me.
I had never seen him this angry.
The Darius I knew had always spoken gently, as though every conversation were an opportunity to prove how much he cared. He remembered my coffee order. He asked about my friends. He sent birthday flowers to my apartment and handwritten cards to my office.
Now, standing in the room where I'd prepared to marry the man I loved, he looked at me as though I had become an inconvenience.
“Fine,” he said.
“You want the truth? I had financial problems. I took out a loan. I made some investments that didn't work out.””
“Against what?””
He hesitated.
“Property.””
“What property?””
“An investment property.””
“Your investment property?””
He didn't answer.
I took a step closer.
“Darius, what did you borrow against?””
He stared at me for a long moment.
Then he said, “Your mother's estate.””
The room went silent.
Rachel covered her mouth.
I felt as though the floor had vanished beneath my feet.
“What?””
“It's complicated.””
“Explain it.””
He sighed, suddenly sounding exhausted.
“Your mother had a trust. I was named as a temporary administrator when she died.””
“No, you weren't.””
“You were a child, Nia. You don't remember everything.””
“I remember Marcus telling me that he and my grandmother handled the estate.””
“Marcus told you what he wanted you to believe.””
I shook my head.
“My mother died when I was six. You were already gone.””
“I hadn't legally severed all my rights.””
“Then why didn't you come to see me?””
He looked away.
The silence was answer enough.
I grabbed the back of a chair to steady myself.
“How much money was in the trust?””
“I don't remember the exact amount.””
“How much?””
“About three hundred thousand dollars.””
The number sounded unreal.
My mother had worked as a registered nurse. She had lived in a small house with a cracked driveway, driven a twelve-year-old sedan, and clipped coupons from the Sunday newspaper.
I remembered her sitting at the kitchen table after night shifts, rubbing her tired eyes while she helped me color pictures for school.
I remembered the smell of her hand lotion.
I remembered her singing off-key while she folded laundry.
I did not remember her having three hundred thousand dollars.
But I remembered Marcus telling me that she had been careful with money.
“She wanted you to have a good start,” he had said once when I was seventeen.
“Your mother believed education was the one thing nobody could take away from you.””
He'd never said how much she'd left.
I'd assumed there wasn't much.
“Where is the money now?”” I asked.
Darius swallowed.
“Some of it went toward expenses.””
“What expenses?””
“Legal fees. Administration. Investments.””
“How much is left?””
“I'd have to check.””
“Check.””
“Nia, not now.””
“Check!””
He flinched.
For a second, the room was so quiet I could hear the orchestra playing through the wall.
Then Darius pulled out his phone.
He scrolled through several screens before turning away from us.
I watched him type.
A minute passed.
Then another.
Finally, he locked his phone.
“There's a balance outstanding,” he said.
“How much?””
He didn't look at me.
“About two hundred and eighty thousand.””
Rachel made a small, disbelieving sound.
I felt my knees weaken.
“Two hundred and eighty thousand dollars is outstanding?””
“It's secured against the trust assets.””
“What does that mean?””
“It means the money is tied up.””
“Can you pay it back?””
“I intend to.””
“When?””
He rubbed his jaw.
“Soon.””
I looked at the man standing in front of me.
The man who had returned with flowers and apologies.
The man who had told me he had missed my childhood.
The man who had persuaded me to remove the boutonniere from Marcus's lapel.
“You came back because of the money.””
His head snapped up.
“No.””
“You knew about the trust.””
“I knew there was a trust. That doesn't mean I came back for it.””
“You borrowed against my inheritance.””
“I was going to make it right!””
“When?””
He opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
I stepped away from him.
“Get out.””
“Nia—”
“Get out of this room.””
He looked toward Rachel as though expecting her to intervene.
She didn't move.
“You're making a terrible mistake,” he said.
I laughed once, though there was nothing funny about the sound.
“I think I've made several today.””
He moved closer.
“Listen to me. I love you.””
“Then tell me the truth.””
“I am telling you the truth.””
“No. You're telling me pieces of it whenever you think I can't prove you wrong.””
His face hardened.
“You've been talking to Marcus, haven't you?””
I stared at him.
“Marcus left twenty minutes ago.””
“Someone has been feeding you information.””
“Someone sent me a photograph.””
“Someone who wants to destroy me.””
“Who?””
He didn't answer.
I looked at the door.
“Get out, Darius.””
He stood motionless for several seconds.
Then he straightened his jacket, picked up his cuff links, and walked toward the exit.
At the door, he turned back.
“You'll regret choosing him over me.””
I shook my head.
“I didn't choose Marcus over you. I chose you over Marcus.””
The words came out before I could stop them.
For the first time, Darius looked genuinely wounded.
Then he left.
The door clicked shut.
Rachel crossed the room and wrapped her arms around me.
I didn't cry immediately.
I stared at the flowers on the dressing table, the white dress hanging from my shoulders, and the wedding shoes waiting beside the mirror.
Everything had been arranged so carefully.
The candles.
The music.
The photographs.
The seating chart that had placed Marcus at the head table beside my mother’s framed portrait.
I'd even chosen a special song for our father-daughter dance.
It was the song he'd hummed while teaching me to ride a bicycle.
Now I couldn't imagine hearing it without feeling sick.
Rachel squeezed my shoulders.
“Let's get you out of this dress.””
I nodded.
But before she could reach for the zipper, my phone rang.
The number was unfamiliar.
I answered.
“Hello?””
A woman spoke in a calm, professional voice.
“Is this Nia Bennett?””
“Yes.””
“My name is Elaine Porter. I'm an attorney representing the estate of your late mother, Catherine Bennett.””
I sat down slowly.
“What estate?””
There was a pause.
“I understand this may come as a surprise. Your stepfather has been trying to reach you, but he asked that I contact you directly if anything happened today.””
I closed my eyes.
“Is this about the inheritance?””
“Yes.””
“Darius says he borrowed against it.””
Another pause.
When Elaine spoke again, her tone had changed.
“Mr. Cole did not have legal authority to borrow against your inheritance.””
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“What?””
“The trust was placed under independent administration after your mother's death. Mr. Cole was never appointed as its administrator.””
I stared at Rachel.
She had gone completely still.
“Then how could he borrow the money?””
“That is precisely what we need to discuss.””
“Is the money gone?””
“No,” Elaine said.
“The trust assets remain protected. However, there is a separate matter involving a loan application submitted in your name.””
My breath caught.
“In my name?””
“Yes.””
“Who submitted it?””
“I believe you already know the answer.””
I pressed my free hand against my mouth.
Elaine continued.
“Ms. Bennett, I need you to come to my office as soon as possible. There are documents you must see, and I strongly advise you not to sign anything your biological father gives you.””
I looked toward the door Darius had walked through.
Then I remembered the envelope Marcus had placed beside the final wedding payments.
The envelope I'd ignored.
“Wait,” I said.
“My stepfather left an envelope today. Did he give it to you?””
“Yes,” Elaine replied.
“He instructed me to deliver it to you if he could no longer speak to you privately.””
My throat tightened.
“What was in it?””
“Copies of the original trust documents, several bank records, and a letter your mother wrote shortly before she died.””
I could barely breathe.
“My mother wrote me a letter?””
“Yes.””
“When can I read it?””
“You may come tomorrow morning. But there's something else you need to understand first.””
“What?””
Elaine's voice lowered.
“The loan application was submitted eleven days before your biological father contacted you for the first time.””
I gripped the edge of the dressing table.
Eleven days.
Before the flowers.
Before the apologies.
Before the Sunday calls.
Before he told me he had never stopped loving me.
I looked at Rachel.
She was crying silently now.
May you like
And then Elaine said the words that changed everything.
“Your father didn't come back to ask for forgiveness, Nia. He came back because someone told him you were about to inherit control of the trust.””
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