Chapter 2: The Words He Couldn't Deny
The document trembled in my hands.
Not because the paper was heavy.
Because Marcus had started saying my name as though repeating it might somehow keep me from reading.
“Naomi, please. Just give me a minute.””
I stared at the page.
The heading was printed in bold black letters.
*PETITION FOR DISSOLUTION OF MARRIAGE.*
Below it were case numbers, filing information, and the official markings of a court.
I blinked once, then again.
The words didn't change.
My eyes moved lower.
*STATUS: PENDING — NOT FINALIZED.*
For a moment, the reception hall disappeared behind the sound of my heartbeat.
I could still feel the bouquet in my left hand. Its white roses smelled sweet and almost painfully fresh. A bead of moisture slid down the side of a champagne glass beside the document.
Everything looked normal.
Everything except my life.
I raised my eyes to Marcus.
“You told me you were divorced.””
He swallowed.
“Naomi, I can explain.””
“Then explain.””
He glanced toward the guests.
“Not here.””
“You chose to get married here,” I replied.
“You chose to stand in front of these people and promise me forever. So explain it here.””
My voice cracked on the last word.
Marcus reached for my hand.
I pulled it away.
His expression changed. The gentle concern vanished, replaced by the irritation I had seen only a handful of times during our relationship.
“Baby, you're making this bigger than it is.””
Tiana stepped between us.
“Bigger than it is?”” she demanded.
“You let her walk down an aisle believing you were a free man.””
“Stay out of this.””
“No,” Tiana said.
“Not this time.””
Marcus pointed toward the far side of the room.
“You have no idea what you're talking about.””
“Then tell her why the court still lists your marriage as pending.””
His finger dropped.
I looked down at the document again.
The page included a filing date. It was months old. The date sat in plain sight, surrounded by the dry language of the legal system.
I remembered that week.
Marcus had taken me to dinner at a little Italian restaurant near my apartment. He had ordered my favorite dessert without asking and spent half the evening talking about how relieved he felt that his past was finally behind him.
He had held my hand across the table.
“Naomi,” he had said, “I want us to start clean. No unfinished business. No old complications. Just us.””
I had believed him.
Now the memory felt like a photograph someone had altered while I wasn't looking.
“Marcus,” I said, “when did you file this?””
He rubbed his palms against the sides of his trousers.
“That date doesn't tell the whole story.””
“What story does it tell?””
“It tells you the process started.””
“And the status?””
He looked at the document.
I watched his eyes move across the same words I had just read.
“Pending,” I said.
“Not finalized.””
He exhaled sharply.
“Legal paperwork takes time.””
“So you knew.””
“I knew it wasn't completed.””
The admission came so quietly that I almost wished I hadn't heard it.
My grip tightened around the page.
“You knew it wasn't completed when you proposed?””
Marcus looked at me.
“I believed it would be.””
“That isn't what I asked.””
A woman at the next table whispered something to her husband. He immediately shook his head, as if warning her not to get involved. Across the room, the wedding photographer slowly lowered his camera.
I wanted everyone to leave.
I wanted everyone to stay.
I wanted someone to tell me that the words on the paper had another meaning, that there was some reasonable explanation that would return the floor beneath my feet.
But Marcus was standing right in front of me.
And he wasn't denying it.
Tiana took a breath.
“I tried to tell you something was wrong,” she said softly.
I turned toward her.
“When?””
“Three weeks ago. At your apartment.””
I remembered that afternoon. Tiana had arrived carrying coffee and a small gift bag for the bridal shower. She had looked distracted, checking her phone whenever she thought I wasn't watching.
I had asked whether everything was okay.
She'd smiled and said she was tired.
“You said you were happy for me,” I whispered.
“I was happy that you had found someone you loved.”” Her eyes glistened.
“I was never happy about what he was doing to you.””
Marcus let out a bitter laugh.
“Oh, here we go.””
Tiana turned on him.
“Don't you dare.””
“You've wanted her to yourself since the day we met.””
The accusation struck me harder than I expected.
Tiana went still.
Then she placed both hands on the table, leaning forward until Marcus had to look directly at her.
“Do you hear yourself?”” she asked.
“She's standing here in a wedding dress, holding evidence that you lied to her, and your first instinct is to blame me?””
Marcus's cheeks reddened.
“You've always had a problem with me.””
“I had a problem with the way you answered simple questions. I had a problem when you changed the subject every time Naomi asked about your former marriage. And I had a problem when you told her that everything was finished, even though you knew it wasn't.””
He turned toward me.
“She's twisting everything.””
“Then tell me the truth,” I said.
“I love you.””
“That isn't the truth I'm asking for.””
He reached toward my shoulder.
I stepped away.
The movement was small, but I saw him register it. His fingers curled against his palm.
For the first time that evening, he looked frightened of me rather than angry with Tiana.
My father approached the table.
“Marcus,” he said, his voice controlled, “is there anything else my daughter needs to know?””
Marcus straightened his jacket.
“Sir, this is a private matter between Naomi and me.””
My father glanced at the document.
“It's no longer private when you bring my daughter to an altar under false pretenses.””
“Dad,” I whispered.
He stopped speaking immediately and turned to me.
I appreciated that more than I could explain.
No one else was asking what I needed. Everyone wanted an explanation, a villain, a reason they could repeat later.
I needed one honest answer.
I turned back to Marcus.
“Are you still legally married?””
He stared at me.
The silence stretched long enough for someone to shift nervously in a chair.
Then Marcus said, “The divorce isn't final.””
My knees nearly buckled.
Tiana caught my elbow.
I didn't lean on her, but I didn't pull away either.
“You let me believe it was,” I said.
“I thought it would be finished before today.””
“You thought?””
“I was trying to fix it.””
“By marrying me before it was fixed?””
His eyes flashed.
“I wasn't going to lose you over a piece of paperwork!””
The words echoed across the room.
He seemed to realize what he'd said only after it was too late.
I looked down at the wedding ring on my finger.
A few hours earlier, that ring had represented every promise Marcus had made. Now it felt like a question I couldn't answer.
Tiana gently touched my arm.
“Naomi, there's something else.””
I turned toward her, exhausted.
“What else could there possibly be?””
She reached into her small burgundy clutch and took out her phone.
Marcus moved so quickly that his chair scraped backward.
“Don't show her that.””
Tiana held the phone against her chest.
My stomach tightened.
“Show me what?””
She looked at Marcus, then at me.
“Before you decide what to do about this wedding, you need to know why I came here today.””
Her screen lit up.
A message notification appeared.
May you like
The sender's name was visible.
And when I read it, I realized the court document might not be the only thing Marcus had hoped I would never see.
