Chapter 5: The Document on the Table
Marcus didn't move toward it immediately.
He looked at the document the way a person looks at something they already suspect is dangerous — taking in the shape of it before committing to the weight.
Then he picked it up and unfolded it.
It was a petition.
Twelve pages, dense with legal language, bearing the letterhead of a family law firm Marcus didn't recognize.
His eyes moved down the first page quickly, then slowed.
His expression didn't change, but his hand tightened slightly at the corner of the paper.
Marcus: You filed for primary custody.
Victoria: Not filed.
Prepared.
There's a difference.
Marcus: The date on this is three weeks ago.
Victoria: I had it drafted.
I haven't submitted it yet.
Marcus: But you had it drafted.
While Leo was still an infant.
While Elena had been in this house for less than a month.
Victoria: I was protecting myself.
Marcus: From what?
Victoria: From exactly what is happening right now.
You sl@pped me in my own hallway, Marcus.
In front of the staff.
In front of the baby.
And you're standing here acting like I'm the one who did something wrong.
Marcus set the document down on the side table.
He smoothed it flat with one hand, a slow, deliberate movement.
Marcus: I shouldn't have done that.
What I did to you was wrong.
I'm not going to pretend otherwise.
Victoria blinked.
She had not expected that.
Marcus: But a custody petition doesn't happen because a husband loses his temper once.
This was drafted three weeks ago.
Before today.
Before anything that happened in this hallway.
So I'm going to ask you again — what were you actually afraid of?
Victoria: I'm afraid of losing my son.
Marcus: To whom?
Victoria: To her.
The word landed flat and hard.
Marcus: Elena is a nanny.
She is an employee.
Victoria: She is not just an employee and you know it.
Marcus: Victoria —
Victoria: Don't.
Don't say my name in that tone like I'm being irrational.
I see how this house runs.
I see how Leo reaches for her before he reaches for me.
I see how the staff defers to her schedule, her instructions, her preferences.
I see how you look at her when you think I'm not watching.
Marcus: Stop.
Victoria: I won't stop.
You asked for the truth.
This is the truth.
I am Leo's mother and I am being made to feel like a visitor in my own home, and I have been feeling that way since the day that woman walked through our front door.
Marcus was quiet for a moment.
Marcus: You feel like a visitor.
Victoria: Yes.
Marcus: And your response to that feeling was to hire someone to surveil her.
To build a file on her.
To have a custody petition drafted.
Not to talk to me.
Not to tell me what you were feeling.
But to build a legal case.
Victoria: Because talking to you doesn't work.
Talking to you about her has never worked.
Marcus: When have you tried?
Victoria: The first week she was here.
I told you I was uncomfortable with how quickly she'd made herself at home.
You told me I was being unkind to the staff.
Marcus: I remember that conversation differently.
Victoria: Of course you do.
They stood on opposite sides of the hallway, the folded custody petition between them on the side table.
Leo's medical envelope sat beside it.
Two pieces of paper that between them contained the shape of everything that was wrong.
Marcus: I'm going to call Dr.
Reid this afternoon.
I want to understand what Leo needs and I want to be certain he gets it.
That is the first thing.
Victoria: I agree.
Marcus: The second thing is that Garrett and his firm are finished in this house.
Whatever they collected is gone.
If there are copies anywhere, I want them destroyed.
My attorney will draft the termination and non-disclosure today.
Victoria: Fine.
Marcus: The third thing is that you and I need to sit down with someone.
A counselor.
A mediator.
Someone outside this house who can help us have this conversation without a custody document on the table between us.
Victoria looked at him for a long moment.
Victoria: You think this is a marriage problem.
Marcus: I think this is a communication problem that has become a marriage problem that is now becoming a legal problem.
And I would like to stop it before it becomes something that hurts Leo.
Victoria: And Elena?
Marcus: What about her?
Victoria: Is she staying?
Marcus didn't answer immediately.
He folded the custody petition and placed it on top of the medical envelope.
Marcus: That is a conversation for another time.
Victoria: No.
I want to know now.
Because if she stays, Marcus, I cannot promise you that I can hold this together.
I cannot promise you that the next time I see her carrying my son down this hallway, I won't —
She stopped.
Her hands were shaking slightly at her sides.
Victoria: I need her gone.
I need to know that this house belongs to me and to Leo and to you.
Not to her.
Marcus looked at his wife.
At the shaking hands.
At the eyes that were dry now but had the hollow look of someone who had been frightened for a long time and had run out of ways to say it.
Marcus: Go upstairs, Victoria.
I'll come find you in an hour.
She picked up her jacket from where it had slipped off her shoulder.
She didn't look at the documents on the table.
She walked to the staircase and began to climb.
Halfway up, she paused with her hand on the banister.
Victoria: Marcus.
That photograph of Elena at the clinic.
I had Garrett take it because I thought she was hiding something dangerous.
I didn't know about Leo's heart.
I didn't know any of that.
She didn't turn around when she said it.
She just stood there on the step, her back to him.
Victoria: If she really noticed something was wrong with him before I did...
I don't know what that makes me.
She continued up the stairs.
Marcus stood alone in the hallway.
He picked up the medical envelope.
He took out his phone.
He found the number on the letterhead and pressed call.
May you like
From somewhere upstairs came the faint sound of Leo beginning to cry again — and then, almost immediately, the sound of a woman's voice, low and steady, beginning to sing.
It wasn't Victoria's voice.
