Page 44 of They Never Tell


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“The fucking bank refused to loan them their money." He shook his head, his shoulders slumping under the weight of the memory. "Lady, my grandma died without ever getting her house. Do you have any idea what that did to my granddaddy?”

“I know, Marcus. He had a stroke.”

Marcus finished his drink and slammed the glass on the table before stretching his legs out toward Ladonna. “He fought for this fucking country. He was respectable. He played by all the rules.” He pounded his thigh with his fist, and Ladonna noticed his eyes were wet. “He never got his American Dream. He was born to a poor black man in Mississippi, and hedieda poor black man in Mississippi. And at the end of the day…that damn bill created the white middle class.”

He shook his head slowly and pushed his glass back and forth across the table like a toy car. “And you want me to play by the rules?”

He chuckled bitterly and Ladonna said nothing. He would forget the conversation by morning, but his belief system would never change. And how could it? Everyone is the sum total of their past, and Marcus’ past was one of unrealized dreams and broken promises.

He had taken her home—Hattiesburg—shortly after their engagement. She met his four uncles and their families, and they visited his parents’ graves and paid their respects. And then he drove her by that house. She didn’t know the story then, but by his tearful reaction, she just assumed it was his childhood home. She didn’t put the pieces together until years later when he got drunk and wistful and told her the sad tale for the first time.

"What are we doing?"

She stared at his wet eyes and ached for him. "What do you mean?

"This twelve shit. All this maneuvering and stressing and scratching and fighting for these kids. Is it even gonna matter?" He sniffed. "At the end of the day…they still gotta go to the bank."

She stared at her Marcus and felt the sting of shame on her skin. All he wanted, all heeverwanted, was better. For himself, for his family, for his community. And sometimes, she had to admit, she hated him for it.

He knew nothing of Joe, butsheknew, and that was enough. Marcus was a good man, and she was a liar and a traitor. Treasonous, or maybe treacherous. Whatever it was, she was guilty of it.

Her shame, when she allowed herself to feel it, was always gone by the time the sun rose the next morning, but in these moments, she hated herself. She wanted to love her Marcus again. She wanted to be devoted and loyal. But it was just so damnfleeting. Why did it always leave, and where the hell did it go?

As far as the money was concerned, she was conflicted, and that feeling never left. It lingered like fog and left her blind and stumbling. She loved her husband’s devotion to his family’s well-being. She just wished the price wasn’t so high.

CHAPTER TWENTY

“I’mjustgonnabehonest with y’all straight out the gate. I was not friends with Nyleah,” Avianna said flatly.

Her mother had barely gotten her jacket off before the girl made her announcement. Her attorney’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. Avianna wasn’t fazed, though. She sat smugly in her seat at the conference room table and waited for everyone else to catch up.

Webb wrote that bit of information down on his pad. “When you say ‘not friends’, do you mean you didn’t know her, or that you didn’t like her?”

“Oh no, I knew her. I didn’t like her.”

“Why not?”

“Because she messed around with my boyfriend.”

“I see. And when was this?” Webb asked, his pen poised expectantly over his notebook.

“Last year. He’s, um, he's gone now, in college, but he was a senior at the time.”

“And his name is?”

She paused. “Why do you—it's Chris. It’s Christian Lockett, but he goes by Chris.”

“What college?”

Again, she hesitated. “Florida A&M.”

“Thank you. So what happened, he cheated with her?”

“Basically. I found out, and then me and her had some words.”

“And you’re still dating him?”

Avianna paused again. “Sometimes.”

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