He had created them eighteen months after the wedding.
He had not hidden them.
The statements went to a joint financial folder.
“You thought I wasn’t saving for them?”
“I didn’t know.”
“You never asked.”
“I know.”
“They have almost the same monthly contribution Maya gets from me.”
“I know.”
“Maya’s trust from Renee is separate.”
“I know.”
“And you thought—”
“I thought if we divorced tomorrow, Maya would be safe.”
“My boys would have whatever I could give them.”
Marcus leaned back.
“So this vacation was about money?”
“No.”
“Then why are we talking about money?”
“Because it became proof in my head.”
“Proof of what?”
“That Maya would always have more.”
Marcus looked toward ceiling.
“I cannot make Renee’s death financially equal.”
“I know.”
“Do you want me to take money from Maya’s trust?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Camille’s voice broke.
“I wanted my sons to have one thing that was theirs.”
“A vacation with my money.”
She recoiled.
Marcus regretted immediately.
“That was cheap.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
She nodded.
He continued more quietly.
“You wanted to take them without Maya.”
“Yes.”
“And tell me she chose not to go.”
“Yes.”
“You had already lied to my sister.”
“Yes.”
“You planned to let me get on the plane tomorrow believing Maya was happily with Tasha.”
Camille looked down.
“Yes.”
“Did you intend to stop me from calling her?”
“No.”
“How was that going to work?”
“I thought you’d call.”
“And?”
“I thought I would tell you she was upset and didn’t want to talk.”
Marcus almost stood.
He forced himself not.
“For eight days?”
“I hadn’t thought that far.”
“That is the problem.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying that.”
Camille flinched.
Marcus lowered his voice.
“Sorry.”
She nodded.
He asked:
“Did Maya know you planned to lie to me?”
“No.”
“What did you tell her?”
“That plans changed.”
“That she would stay with Tasha.”
“That this trip was for the boys.”
Marcus closed his eyes.
“How long had you planned this?”
“Four days.”
“Not three weeks?”
“No.”
“What happened four days ago?”
Camille hesitated.
Then:
“Jordan came home upset.”
“About what?”
“He said you were helping Maya with her science project and forgot you promised to take him to basketball practice.”
Marcus remembered.
He had forgotten.
Camille took Jordan.
Marcus apologized later.
Jordan said it was okay.
It had not been okay.
“Then?”
“He told me he feels stupid expecting you.”
The words cut.
Camille continued.
“He said, ‘Marcus is Maya’s dad. He doesn’t have to remember my stuff.’”
Marcus stared at the floor.
“I got angry.”
“At me.”
“Yes.”
“But I didn’t say it to you.”
“You punished Maya.”
Camille started crying again.
“Yes.”
The simplicity of admission made the room unbearable.
Marcus got up.
He walked toward the window.
Outside, the late-afternoon sun made the street look offensively normal.
A delivery van stopped at the neighbor’s house.
Somebody walked a dog.