Chapter 5 - The Man Who Was Supposed To Be Gone
Michael stood in my mother's doorway.
Alive.
Older.
Different.
But still Michael.
For eight years, I had forced myself to accept that he was gone.
Not dead.
Not missing.
Just gone.
That was what everyone told me.
"Some people leave when they realize they made a mistake."
That was what my father said.
"Michael wasn't ready for a serious future."
That was what my mother said.
"You're better without him."
That was what Veronica said.
I believed them.
Because they were my family.
And because the alternative was admitting that the people closest to me had lied.
But now Michael was standing in front of me.
Looking at me like he had been carrying a secret for years.
My mother stepped backward.
Her face was pale.
"Michael..."
His eyes moved toward her.
"You told her."
My mother's lips trembled.
"No."
He looked at me.
"She found out."
The way he said it made my stomach tighten.
Not anger.
Not surprise.
Sadness.
Like he had expected this moment but hoped it would never happen.
I stepped forward.
"What happened to you?"
Michael looked down.
For a few seconds, he didn't answer.
Then he said:
"I tried to tell you the truth."
My heart started beating faster.
"About Veronica?"
He nodded.
"About your family."
I looked at my mother.
Then back at him.
"Why didn't you?"
Michael gave a bitter smile.
"Because your father made sure I couldn't."
The room became silent.
I wanted to deny it.
I wanted to say he was wrong.
But after everything I had learned in the last twenty-four hours...
I couldn't.
"Tell me everything."
Michael looked at my mother.
She lowered her eyes.
Then he walked inside.
"I was going to propose to you."
The words hit me unexpectedly.
Eight years disappeared for a moment.
I remembered that time.
The small apartment we rented.
The cheap coffee we drank every morning.
The way he always held my hand when we walked.
I remembered believing that was the beginning of my forever.
Michael continued.
"I had the ring."
My eyes burned.
"But then I found out about Veronica."
"What did you find out?"
He sat down slowly.
"Your sister had been using your father's company accounts."
I nodded.
"I know."
"No."
Michael looked at me.
"You don't."
The seriousness in his voice made me stop.
"She wasn't just taking money."
A cold feeling moved through me.
"What else?"
Michael looked at the envelope on the table.
"You have those documents?"
I nodded.
"Who gave them to you?"
"My mother."
He looked surprised.
Then disappointed.
"After all this time."
"What happened, Michael?"
He took a deep breath.
"Veronica found out I was investigating."
"Investigating?"
"I worked in finance back then, Celeste. I noticed things didn't add up."
I listened carefully.
"Your father knew."
My jaw tightened.
"He knew she was stealing?"
Michael nodded.
"Your father knew everything."
The words hurt.
Because somehow, they didn't surprise me anymore.
"What did he do?"
Michael looked at me.
"He protected her."
I closed my eyes.
Of course he did.
My entire life had been a pattern.
Veronica broke something.
Everyone protected Veronica.
I paid the price.
"But why would he force you to leave?"
Michael looked away.
"Because I wasn't willing to stay quiet."
I stared at him.
"He threatened you?"
Michael didn't answer immediately.
That silence was enough.
"What did he say?"
Michael rubbed his hands together.
"I went to your father and told him I was going to tell you."
"And?"
"He told me I didn't understand what I was dealing with."
My breathing slowed.
"What does that mean?"
Michael looked at me.
"Your father said Veronica wasn't just afraid of losing money."
A chill moved through me.
"What was she afraid of?"
Michael reached into his jacket.
He pulled out a small envelope.
"I kept this for eight years."
He placed it on the table.
My hands moved toward it.
But I stopped.
"What is it?"
"The reason your sister destroyed your life."
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
Not old.
Not damaged.
A recent picture.
It showed Veronica sitting in a restaurant.
Across from someone.
I looked closer.
My blood froze.
Because I recognized the person sitting across from her.
My father.
But they weren't arguing.
They weren't discussing a problem.
They were smiling.
Like they had planned something together.
"When was this taken?"
Michael answered quietly.
"Three days before your wedding."
My heart sank.
Three days.
Before my wedding.
Before Veronica's phone call.
Before my father abandoned me.
"So they planned this."
Michael nodded.
"Yes."
I looked at my mother.
"Did you know?"
She started crying.
"I knew something was happening."
"Something?"
My voice rose.
"You knew they were planning to ruin my wedding."
"No."
She shook her head quickly.
"I didn't know the wedding was the target."
"Then what was?"
Nobody answered.
And that scared me.
Because it meant there was still something bigger.
Michael looked at Caleb's documents on the table.
"The emergency room story was a distraction."
"From what?"
He looked at me.
"From your father leaving with something."
I frowned.
"What?"
Michael pointed toward the wedding documents.
"Did you sign everything before the ceremony?"
I nodded slowly.
"Yes."
"Did your father handle any paperwork?"
I thought about it.
The venue.
The contracts.
The vintage car.
The insurance.
Then I remembered something.
My father had insisted on helping.
He said he wanted to make things easier.
"He handled the car registration."
Michael's expression changed.
"That's it."
"What?"
"He needed you distracted."
I felt my stomach drop.
"Why?"
Michael stood up.
"Because your wedding wasn't the only thing he was taking from you."
The room went quiet.
My phone suddenly rang.
Unknown number.
Again.
Everyone looked at it.
Michael's face changed.
"Don't answer."
I stared at him.
"Why?"
His voice became serious.
"Because whoever is calling already knows we're here."
The phone kept ringing.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then a voicemail notification appeared.
I looked at the screen.
A new message.
I pressed play.
At first, there was only silence.
Then a voice.
My father's voice.
"Celeste, if you are listening to this, it means Michael found you."
I stopped breathing.
My father continued.
"And it means you know enough to become a problem."
My hand tightened around the phone.
Then came the final sentence.
"Whatever you do, don't open the second envelope Michael brought you."
I slowly looked at the table.
The envelope.
The one Michael had just placed there.
Michael's face turned pale.
May you like
Because he hadn't told anyone about the second envelope.
And the door behind us suddenly unlocked.
