Chapter 3: The Woman He Buried
Marcus stared at his phone like it had become something dangerous.
The screen went dark after a few seconds, but the message remained burned into my mind.
*She knows everything.*
I had seen those words.
I couldn't unsee them.
I stood across from my husband in the kitchen we had remodeled together, surrounded by the smell of a dinner he had cooked for someone else, and I realized I was no longer waiting for an explanation.
I was waiting for the truth.
"Who is Elena?""
Marcus didn't answer.
His eyes stayed fixed on the phone.
"Marcus.""
He finally looked up.
There was something different in his face now.
Before, he looked guilty.
Now he looked afraid.
And fear was much harder to forgive.
"Jasmine, I need you to listen to me.""
I almost smiled.
That sentence.
The beginning of every disaster.
"I have been listening to you for seven years.""
He flinched.
"That's not what I mean.""
"Then what do you mean?""
He walked toward the counter and grabbed the phone.
I watched his fingers tighten around it.
"Did she threaten you?""
The question slipped out before I could stop it.
Marcus looked at me.
"No.""
"Then why do you look like you just saw a ghost?""
His jaw moved.
But no words came.
I crossed my arms.
"Tell me about Elena.""
He looked toward the hallway.
Like he was hoping someone would appear and save him.
Nobody did.
Finally, he sat down at the kitchen table.
The same table where we ate breakfast every morning.
The same table where he asked me to marry him.
The same table where he now had to explain the life he erased.
"Her name is Elena Whitmore.""
"I know her name.""
Marcus nodded.
"She was my first wife.""
"Six years.""
He looked down.
"Yes.""
I sat across from him.
"Why didn't you tell me?""
He was quiet.
Too quiet.
Then he said:
"Because I thought if I told you, I would lose you.""
The answer was so simple.
So selfish.
I stared at him.
"You don't get to call hiding an entire marriage an act of love.""
"I know.""
"No, you don't.""
My voice sharpened.
"If you knew, you wouldn't have done it.""
Marcus closed his eyes.
For a moment, he looked exhausted.
Not broken.
Not sorry enough.
Just tired.
"We were young.""
I said nothing.
"We met when I was twenty-four. Elena was twenty-two. We moved too fast. We thought we had everything figured out.""
He paused.
"Then we realized we didn't.""
I leaned back.
"So you divorced.""
"Yes.""
"Then why is she sending messages saying she knows everything?""
Marcus looked away.
"Because Elena and I didn't end things normally.""
The room became colder.
"What does that mean?""
He rubbed his hands together.
"After the divorce, we stopped talking.""
"Completely?""
"Yes.""
"Then why would she suddenly show up now?""
Marcus didn't answer.
I watched his face.
Every hesitation.
Every pause.
Every small movement.
The man I had trusted for years was finally telling me something, but I was realizing how much effort it took to separate the truth from the lies.
"Marcus.""
He looked at me.
"Did Elena know about me?""
His silence lasted too long.
My stomach tightened.
"Did she?""
Finally, he nodded.
"Yes.""
The word felt heavier than I expected.
"How?""
"She found out.""
"After we got married?""
Another pause.
"Yes.""
I stood up.
"You're telling me your ex-wife knew you moved on, got married, built a new life...""
I pointed around the kitchen.
"...and you never thought I deserved to know she existed?""
Marcus stood too.
"I was trying to protect what we had.""
"No.""
I shook my head.
"You were protecting yourself.""
He looked hurt.
But I didn't care.
Not anymore.
"Tell me what happened the night Elena disappeared.""
The color drained from his face again.
"I don't want to talk about that.""
I laughed bitterly.
"That's convenient.""
"Jasmine.""
"No.""
I stepped closer.
"I am done hearing what you don't want to talk about.""
His expression hardened slightly.
"You don't understand.""
"Then explain it.""
He looked at the floor.
"I can't.""
The answer shocked me.
Not because he refused.
Because of the way he said it.
Not "I won't.""
"I can't.""
Like something was holding him back.
Like there was a part of the story even he was afraid to touch.
"Why?""
Marcus didn't respond.
I grabbed my phone from the counter.
"I'll call her.""
His head snapped up.
"What?""
"I'll call Elena.""
"No.""
The speed of his response told me everything.
"Why not?""
"Because you don't know what you're dealing with.""
I stared at him.
"Neither do you, apparently.""
His phone buzzed again.
This time, he didn't pick it up.
I saw the screen light up.
Another message.
I stepped closer.
Marcus noticed.
He turned the phone over.
Too late.
I had already seen the first words.
*I gave you seven years to tell her.*
My chest tightened.
Seven years.
The exact amount of time Marcus and I had been married.
I looked at him.
"She knew.""
He said nothing.
"She knew about me the entire time.""
Marcus sat back down.
"Yes.""
The honesty came too late.
Way too late.
"How?""
He swallowed.
"After our divorce, Elena found out I remarried.""
"And?""
"And she contacted me.""
"What did she say?""
Marcus stared at the table.
"She asked if I had told you.""
My voice dropped.
"And you said?""
"I said no.""
I closed my eyes.
The pain wasn't sharp anymore.
It was becoming something heavier.
Something permanent.
"You let another woman know you were lying to your wife.""
Marcus whispered:
"I was scared.""
I opened my eyes.
"Of what?""
He didn't answer.
I waited.
Finally:
"Of what you would think of me.""
I almost couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"You should have thought about that before.""
"I know.""
"No.""
I shook my head.
"You keep saying that.""
I walked away from the table.
"You know after you're caught.""
Marcus stood.
"Jasmine.""
I turned around.
"What else?""
His face changed.
"What?""
"What else are you hiding?""
The question hung between us.
Because both of us knew there was something else.
There had to be.
A person doesn't hide a marriage for seven years because of one painful memory.
There was a missing piece.
A locked door.
A chapter he refused to open.
Marcus looked toward the window.
Then quietly said:
"Elena didn't disappear.""
I froze.
"What?""
He looked at me.
"She left.""
"That's not what Ava said.""
"Ava doesn't know everything.""
"Then tell me.""
He looked away.
"She left because of something I did.""
The words landed softly.
But they were heavier than shouting.
I stared at him.
"What did you do?""
Marcus didn't answer.
I walked closer.
"What did you do?""
His eyes met mine.
And for the first time that night, I saw something that looked almost like shame.
"I lied to Elena.""
I waited.
"About what?""
His phone buzzed again.
Neither of us moved.
Then, slowly, Marcus picked it up.
He read the message.
His face went completely still.
"What?""
I stepped toward him.
"What did she say?""
Marcus looked at me.
And I knew before he spoke.
Whatever Elena had sent wasn't just about their past.
It was about mine.
"She wants to meet you.""
I stared.
"Me?""
He nodded.
"She said she has proof.""
"Proof of what?""
Marcus didn't answer.
His voice was barely above a whisper.
"Proof that the reason she left wasn't our divorce.""
I felt a chill move through me.
"Then what was it?""
Marcus looked down at the phone.
Then back at me.
"She says it was because she found out who I really was.""
A long silence followed.
And then my own phone started ringing.
Unknown number.
I looked at Marcus.
He looked terrified.
I answered.
"Hello?""
For three seconds, there was only silence.
Then a woman's voice spoke.
A voice I had never heard before.
But somehow, I already knew who it was.
"Jasmine?""
I couldn't breathe.
"Yes?""
The woman paused.
Then said:
"My name is Elena Whitmore.""
I gripped the phone tighter.
"I'm the woman your husband spent six years trying to forget.""
A cold feeling spread through my chest.
May you like
Then she said the words that changed everything.
"Before you decide whether to forgive Marcus, you need to know what he did to me.""
