Chapter 4 - The Woman Upstairs
I should have driven away.
Instead, I watched.
Marcus laughed at something the woman said.
She opened the upstairs door.
He followed her inside carrying groceries.
My chest felt strangely tight.
It wasn’t jealousy.
At least that was what I told myself.
Marcus and I had been apart for three years.
I had gone on dates.
So had he, probably.
We had no claim on each other.
But this was different.
This woman lived above the apartment he wanted me to rent.
My children might be downstairs while their father’s girlfriend lived upstairs.
And he hadn’t mentioned her once.
I called him.
He answered on the third ring.
“Hey.”
“Where are you?”
Silence.
Then, “Why?”
“Interesting answer.”
“Nia.”
“Are you at the duplex?”
Another pause.
“Yes.”
“With who?”
He sighed.
“You’re outside.”
I almost laughed.
Five seconds later, the curtain moved.
Then the front door opened.
Marcus stepped onto the porch.
I stayed in my car.
He walked toward me.
I lowered the window.
“You didn’t think this was relevant?”
“What?”
“The woman living upstairs.”
His face changed.
“Oh.”
“Oh?”
“She doesn’t live upstairs.”
“I just watched her unlock the door.”
“She’s helping Celeste renovate.”
“Who is she?”
Marcus looked tired.
“Renee.”
“That means nothing to me.”
“She’s my girlfriend.”
There it was.
I gripped the steering wheel.
“For how long?”
“Eight months.”
My jaw dropped.
“Eight months?”
“Yes.”
“And our children know her?”
His silence answered.
“You introduced a girlfriend to my children without telling me?”
“Nia—”
“How long?”
“They met her four months ago.”
I got out of the car.
“You are unbelievable.”
“They know she’s my friend.”
“Your friend who kisses you?”
“They haven’t seen that.”
“That isn’t the point.”
“What is the point?”
“The point is you are asking me to create some official co-parenting arrangement while keeping major information from me.”
Marcus’s face hardened.
“My dating life is not something I need your permission for.”
“No, but the people around our children are my business.”
“Agreed.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because this.”
He pointed between us.
“This exact reaction.”
“You lied.”
“I didn’t lie.”
“You hid it.”
“Yes.”
At least he admitted that.
The upstairs door opened.
Renee stepped outside.
She didn’t come toward us.
She simply stood near the porch, clearly uncomfortable.
I looked at her.
Then Marcus.
“She’s moving in?”
“No.”
“Planning to?”
“No.”
“Then why is she here?”
“My aunt is recovering from knee surgery. Renee is an interior designer. She’s helping get both units ready.”
I blinked.
“Both?”
Marcus nodded toward the downstairs door.
“You haven’t even seen inside.”
“I don’t need to.”
“Yes, you do.”
“No.”
“Nia.”
“I am not living downstairs from your girlfriend.”
“She lives twenty minutes away!”
Renee finally walked closer.
“I can leave.”
I turned to her.
She immediately stopped.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “This is clearly family business.”
Something about her calm voice made me even more defensive.
“How much do you know about my family?”
“Enough to know I should probably go.”
Marcus rubbed his forehead.
“Renee.”
“No, she’s right.”
Renee looked at me.
“Your kids are sweet.”
My stomach tightened.
“You’ve spent time with them.”
“Yes.”
“Alone?”
“No.”
“Ever?”
“No.”
Marcus stepped between the conversation.
“Nia, stop interrogating her.”
I looked at him.
“Do not tell me what questions I can ask about people around my kids.”
“You can ask.”
“Apparently four months late.”
Renee picked up her bag.
“Marcus, call me later.”
He nodded.
She turned toward me.
“I’m not trying to replace anybody.”
I hated that she knew enough to say it.
Then she left.
Marcus watched her car disappear.
When he turned back, he was angry.
“You embarrassed her.”
“Good.”
The second I said it, I regretted it.
His expression changed.
“That’s not you.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I know you better than that.”
“No, you knew me.”
Marcus laughed bitterly.
“You think I wanted to hide her?”
“You did hide her.”
“Because everything becomes a competition.”
I crossed my arms.
“You want honesty? Fine.”
He stepped closer.
“I’m serious about Renee.”
My stomach dropped.
“How serious?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have.”
“Does she want children?”
He stared at me.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“Nia, this is exactly what I mean.”
“What happens when you marry her?”
“I didn’t say marriage.”
“What happens when you do?”
“You are jumping five years ahead.”
“Because I have to think about how decisions affect Ava and Jordan!”
“So do I.”
His voice rose.
“And I have spent three years making every decision around what won’t upset you.”
I stared.
“That is ridiculous.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
“You hated my old house because you said the neighborhood was too far.”
“It was.”
“So I moved.”
I froze.
He continued.
“You complained Wednesday dinners were too late because of school.”
“They were.”
“So I changed my schedule.”
“I never asked you to—”
“You didn’t need to.”
His voice softened.
“I wanted to be close to them.”
I looked away.
Marcus unlocked the downstairs unit.
“Come inside.”
“No.”
“Just look.”
I should have left.
Instead, I followed.
The apartment smelled like fresh paint.
Sunlight filled the living room.
There was a small kitchen.
Three bedrooms.
A backyard visible through sliding doors.
It wasn’t glamorous.
It was warm.
Marcus pointed toward the hall.
“Ava could have that room.”
I stared at him.
“Stop.”
“Jordan could have the smaller one.”
“I said stop.”
“And yours is at the end.”
I turned.
“You planned their rooms?”
“No.”
“You just knew immediately.”
“Because I walked through this place thinking about them.”
My eyes burned.
I hated crying in front of him.
“So you really expect me to live here while you build some new life with Renee?”
Marcus stared.
“This apartment has nothing to do with Renee.”
“It does now.”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“This is what you do.”
“What?”
“You take something practical and turn it into proof that you’re being replaced.”
That hit too close.
I stepped backward.
“I’m leaving.”
“Nia.”
I reached the door.
Then he said, “Ava wants Renee at her recital.”
I stopped.
Slowly, I turned.
“What?”
Marcus looked like he wished he hadn’t said it.
“When did she ask?”
“Last weekend.”
“And what did you say?”
“That I had to talk to you.”
I laughed bitterly.
“How generous.”
“Nia.”
“She wants your girlfriend there?”
“She likes her.”
My chest tightened.
“Does she like her more than me?”
Marcus’s anger disappeared immediately.
“Oh, Nia.”
“Don’t.”
“That question has nothing to do with Ava.”
I hated him for knowing that.
He stepped closer but didn’t touch me.
“You are their mother.”
I looked away.
“No one is competing for that job.”
I wiped my face.
“I need to go.”
This time, he let me.
That night Ava was brushing her hair when I walked into her room.
“Can I ask you something?”
She nodded.
“Do you know Renee?”
Her eyes widened.
Immediately guilty.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Dad’s friend.”
“Do you like her?”
Ava hesitated.
I forced myself to say, “You’re allowed to.”
Her shoulders relaxed.
“She’s nice.”
“What do you like about her?”
“She draws.”
Of course.
Ava loved art.
“She showed me how to shade faces.”
I sat beside her.
“Anything else?”
“She listens.”
That hurt for reasons I didn’t want to examine.
Then Ava asked, “Are you mad?”
“No.”
“You look mad.”
“I’m surprised.”
She nodded.
Then she whispered, “Can she come to my recital?”
There it was.
I wanted to say no.
I wanted one event that remained mine and Marcus’s.
Our daughter between us.
Our old family shape.
Then Ava’s eyes dropped.
“It’s okay if you don’t want her there.”
I suddenly heard Mrs. Patel again.
Children fill gaps with their own explanations.
I took Ava’s hand.
“If Renee matters to you, she can come.”
Her face lit up.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
She hugged me.
“Thank you!”
I held her tightly.
Then she pulled away.
“Oh, and Dad said you might move near him.”
“What?”
“To Aunt Celeste’s house.”
“He told you that?”
“He said maybe.”
My jaw tightened.
Ava smiled.
“That would be awesome.”
“Why?”
“Because then Dad could help more.”
I froze.
“Help more with what?”
She shrugged.
“Everything.”
“What everything?”
“Like when you’re tired.”
I stared at her.
“Ava, do I seem tired a lot?”
She gave me a look no child should have needed to give her mother.
“Mom.”
That one word answered me.
Then my phone buzzed.
A message from my boss.
NIA, DUE TO FURTHER BUDGET CUTS, YOUR SCHEDULE WILL BE REDUCED TO 24 HOURS STARTING MONDAY.
I read it twice.
Then a third time.
Twenty-four hours.
I could barely survive on thirty-two.
Ava was still beside me.
“Mom?”
I locked my phone.
“What?”
“You look scared.”
I forced a smile.
“I’m okay.”
She studied my face.
May you like
For once, she didn’t believe me.
And as I tucked her into bed, I knew there was no longer any version of this story where I could pretend money wasn’t changing everything.
