Chapter 5
Daniel was gone when I woke up the next morning.
A note was on the kitchen table, scrawled in his messy handwriting.
Mom, I’m sorry for everything. I’m going back to Charleston to figure this out. I’ll call you soon. I love you.
I folded the note and put it in the jewelry box on my dresser, next to my mom’s old ring.
I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe he’d see the truth, that he’d come back to me, that everything would go back to how it was before Vanessa.
But I knew better.
Things never went back to how they were. They only went forward, for better or worse.
I spent the next week in a kind of limbo.
I checked my phone a hundred times a day, waiting for Daniel’s call. It never came.
My lawyer emailed to say the paperwork revoking the transfer was ready, that there was no legal way Daniel or Vanessa could force me to hand over the house. I signed the documents and sent them back.
Tyler called every other day, bringing me groceries, checking in, telling me what he’d heard around Charleston.
Vanessa was telling everyone Daniel had cheated on her. That I’d known about it and helped him cover it up. That I’d walked out of the wedding because I was ashamed of him.
It was a lie. A cruel, elaborate lie. But people were starting to believe it.
Old friends from the hospital called, their voices careful, asking if I was okay. Neighbors stopped me when I went into town for supplies, giving me strange looks.
Vanessa was destroying my reputation. And Daniel was letting her.
I didn’t call him to yell. I didn’t text him to defend myself.
I just waited.
On the eighth day after Daniel left the lake house, Tyler called me, his voice urgent.
“Margaret, you need to turn on the news right now. Channel four.”
I ran to the living room and flipped on the TV.
The breaking news banner blared across the bottom of the screen.
LOCAL WEDDING SCAM: BRIDE ACCUSED OF TARGETING MULTIPLE MEN FOR MONEY.
The reporter stood outside a small apartment in North Charleston, talking in serious tones.
“Thirty-year-old Vanessa Carter is being accused by three local men of engaging in long-term romantic relationships for the sole purpose of gaining access to their finances and property. All three men claim Carter convinced them to transfer large sums of money or property into her name, then left them shortly after.”
My mouth went dry.
The camera cut to an interview with a young man in his late twenties, his face blurred.
We were engaged for six months, he said. She convinced me to put my house in both our names. Then she left, took half the money from the sale, and I never saw her again.
Another man. Older. Divorced.
She said she loved me. Said she wanted to take care of me in my old age. I gave her twenty thousand dollars for “medical bills.” Never heard from her again.
The reporter came back on screen.
“Sources close to the investigation say Carter married Charleston local Daniel Hale just over a week ago, and was in the process of attempting to gain control of a family lake house property valued at over seven hundred thousand dollars when the scam was uncovered.”
I sank onto the couch.
Seven hundred thousand dollars. I’d had no idea the property was worth that much.
The phone rang. It was Daniel.
I answered.
He didn’t say hello. He just made a sound, half sob, half gasp.
“Mom,” he said. “Did you see it?”
“I saw it, baby,” I said softly.
“I’m so stupid,” he cried. “I’m so fucking stupid. She told me those men were lying, that they were ex-boyfriends who were obsessed with her. I believed her. I believed every word.”
“Where are you?” I said.
“Home,” he said. “Our apartment. She’s gone. All her stuff is gone. She left a note saying she was sorry, that she’d explain everything when she got back. But the police were just here. They asked me all these questions. About the money. About the house.”
His voice broke.
“Mom, I almost gave her everything. I almost let her take the house. I almost chose her over you.”
He was hysterical now, crying so hard I could barely understand him.
“I hate myself. I hate what I did to you. You raised me better than this. How could I be so blind?”
“Daniel, listen to me,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “You were manipulated. She’s a professional. She spent three years learning exactly what to say, exactly what to do to make you trust her. This is not your fault.”
“It is my fault,” he said. “I knew. Deep down, I knew something was wrong. But I was so scared of being alone, so scared I’d never find anyone who loved me, that I ignored it. I ignored you. I let her hurt you.”
He took a shaky breath.
“I’m driving up to the lake house,” he said. “I have to see you. I have to apologize in person. I don’t care if you never forgive me. I just need you to know how sorry I am.”
“Okay,” I said. “Drive safe. I’ll be here.”
I hung up.
I stood up and walked to the kitchen, filled a pot with water, and set it on the stove to make tea.
My hands were shaking.
It was over. The lies. The manipulation. The fear.
Vanessa was gone. The police were looking for her. She’d never get near Daniel, never get near the lake house, never hurt either of us again.
But the damage she’d done wasn’t gone. Not yet.
Daniel had to heal. I had to heal.
May you like
We had a long, hard road ahead of us.
But for the first time since that rainy Saturday in March, I felt hope.
