Taking Root

I emptied my savings to buy the home where my boyfriend and I were supposed to start our married life. On the first day after the renovation was finished, his mother appeared at the door carrying two overstuffed duffel bags. "Marcus said half of this house belongs to him, so we decide to move in here." I stood in the living room I had paid to renovate, staring at the jars of homemade preserves inside his mother's bags and at his younger brother swaggering toward a bedroom with his suitcase. Marcus Caldwell only smiled. "Jules, my mom has a bad back. I'll have her stay in the primary bedroom. If you can't put up with this now, how are we supposed to build a life together?" Chapter 1 I stared at the primary bedroom door, the solid walnut door I had visited three home-improvement stores to choose. From inside came the dull thud of Tyler Caldwell throwing his duffel onto the bed. "Marcus, if your mother gets the primary bedroom, where am I supposed to sleep?" I tried to keep my voice down, but my jaw was clenched so tightly that my cheekbones ached. Marcus came out of the kitchen carrying a mug of water for his mother before finally turning to me. "Jules, the guest room isn't that small. Make do for now. "Tyler just moved to the city to look for work. Once he's established, he'll move out. "My mom got a bad back. She can't sleep on the guest-room mattress." He spoke so casually, as though the house had always been intended as a free hotel for his family. "This is my house." "It's our house!" He corrected me with a faint warning beneath his tone. "Jules, do you have to make a big deal out of everything? "Do you have any idea how hard it was for my mom to raise two sons?" "Your mother raising you was difficult. What does that have to do with me?" I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. Not because they were wrong, but because Marcus's expression changed. He said nothing and turned away to help his mother rearrange the kitchen. She removed my cast-iron Dutch oven from the cabinet and replaced it with the nonstick pan she had brought. I had saved two months of salary for that imported Dutch oven. It could simmer soup for hours without losing a drop. Now it sat in a corner of the balcony beside her jars of homemade preserves. That night, I slept in the guest room. I lay staring at the ceiling while laughter drifted from the primary bedroom, where his mother and Tyler were talking. Marcus never knocked on my door. He didn't say a single word to me. At two in the morning, I got up to use the bathroom and noticed a document on the coffee table. It was the Joint Mortgage Contribution Agreement we had signed when we bought the house. I had barely read it at the time because Marcus said it was only a formality. Using the light from my phone, I turned to the second page. A handwritten clause stated: Both parties share responsibility for the mortgage and all property-related debts. If either party withdraws, that party must reimburse the other for all renovation costs and appreciation. All renovation costs and appreciation. That meant if I tried to remove Marcus, I would have to pay him to leave. My hand began trembling around the agreement. Not from cold. From fear. Marcus had drafted this agreement. The day he asked me to sign it, he handed me a pen and smiled. "Jules, once you sign, we're officially a family." A family. Apparently, his family meant his mother, his brother, and him. It didn't include me. Chapter 2 The next morning, kitchen smoke woke me. Tyler stood at the stove frying eggs while grease splattered everywhere. My marble countertop was covered in oil. "Morning, future sister-in-law." He sounded friendly, but the metal spatula in his hand was scraping directly across my nonstick pan. "Tyler, don't use a metal spatula on that pan." "You'll ruin the coating." "Yeah, yeah, sure." He agreed without changing what he was doing. Marcus came out of the study, saw me frowning in the kitchen doorway, and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "Jules, don't be so tense. "Tyler isn't a stranger. "He's my brother, which makes him your brother too." I said nothing and removed his arm from my shoulders. During breakfast, his mother spoke. "Jules, this house gets nice light, but it's a little small. "Once Tyler finds a job here and gets a girlfriend, there won't be enough room." My fork paused halfway to my mouth. "Mrs. Caldwell, this is supposed to be Marcus's and my home after we marry. "Tyler can stay temporarily, but he can't live here permanently." Her expression hardened, and she set her fork down against her plate. "What do you mean, permanently? "This is his brother's house. He needs your permission to stay a few days? "Marcus, listen to the way your fiancee talks!" Marcus's fork froze in midair. He glanced at me. "Mom, Jules didn't mean it that way. "Tyler can stay until he finds work. We'll discuss it then." "What does 'then' mean?" I set down my fork and looked at Marcus. "How long will it take your brother to find a job? One month? Three months? A year? "He lives here, I sleep in the guest room, you sleep in the study, and your mother has the primary bedroom. "Is this our future home or a Caldwell family hostel?" The room went silent for two seconds. Tyler chuckled. "Don't be mad, Jules. I'll find something soon." But when he looked down and kept eating, the corner of his mouth was raised. I knew he was brushing me off because there was not a trace of embarrassment or shame on his face. When I came home from working late that afternoon, the garment rack in the guest room was gone. My clothes had been folded into several piles and left on the bed. "Jules, put those clothes into storage boxes for now," Marcus called from the study. "Tyler brought his girlfriend over. She has a lot of things, so we need to make room for her in the guest room." I stood in the half-emptied room, my fingers whitening around the strap of my purse. "His girlfriend is moving in too?" "Only for a few days." "How many days?" "Jules..." "Marcus Caldwell." I interrupted him, my voice so calm it sounded unfamiliar even to me. "I contributed $260,000 toward the down payment. "I paid another $75,000 for the renovation. "You contributed $140,000 toward the down payment and nothing toward the renovation. "Now your mother sleeps in the primary bedroom, while I sleep in the guest room. "And your brother's girlfriend is moving in too. "I've put more than $335,000 into this home, yet I can't even sleep in the primary bedroom. "Does that seem reasonable to you?" Marcus leaned against the study doorframe and remained silent for several seconds. Then he said the words that finally extinguished something inside me. "Jules, you keep too careful a score. "That isn't how people build a life together. "If you're like this, who would dare spend the rest of his life with you?" Chapter 3 Tyler's girlfriend was named Kayla Brooks, a young woman with pink hair. The first thing she did after arriving was shove all my skincare products to one side of the bathroom and arrange her own bottles across the counter. "Jules, I've never used these brands. They must be expensive, right?" She grinned as she unscrewed the cap of my serum. That bottle cost two hundred and forty dollars, and I normally measured it one drop at a time. "Don't touch that." I reached for it, but Kayla had already poured a large puddle into her palm. "I'm only trying it." "Kayla, that belongs to me." "You're being stingy, Jules." Tyler leaned out from the living room. "What's the problem if she uses a little? "You have so much skincare. Can you even finish it all?" I took a deep breath, pulled the serum from Kayla's hand, tightened the cap, and placed it in my toiletry bag. Then I carried the bag back to the guest room. From that day forward, I would leave nothing of mine in a shared space. But the next morning, I discovered that the lock on the guest-room door had been removed. "Marcus, where's the lock from the guest-room door?" "Oh, Tyler said it was broken, so I told him to take it off. We'll install another one later." Marcus was scrolling through his phone in the living room without even looking up. The lock was broken? It had worked perfectly the night before. I inspected the door. The opening was clean, without any sign of damage. Someone had deliberately removed it. Without a lock, I had no privacy. Anyone could walk in and search through my belongings whenever they wanted. The thought sent a chill down my back. But I didn't explode. On my way to work, I called my closest friend, Natalie Price. "Natalie, I need you to check something for me. "Find out whether Marcus has ever used my personal information to apply for a loan." "I thought you were about to marry him?" Natalie worked at a bank, and alarm sharpened her voice. "Julia, what happened?" "Check first. I'll explain later." Natalie called me back that afternoon. Her voice was tight. "Jules, there's a $120,000 business loan in your name. "It was funded three months ago. "The receiving account belongs to a company called Caldwell Wholesale." Caldwell Wholesale. Tyler Caldwell. My hands began to shake. "Jules, did you know about this loan?" "No." "Did you know your house was pledged as collateral?" My phone nearly slipped from my hand. "Natalie, what did you just say?" "A second mortgage was placed on your house. "The secured amount is $120,000. "If the loan defaults, the lender can foreclose on the property." I crouched in the stairwell at work and pressed the back of my head against the wall. One hundred and twenty thousand dollars. Marcus had used my identification to obtain a $120,000 business loan and transferred every dollar to his brother's company. He had also used my house as collateral. When had he taken my identification? Then I remembered. Three months earlier, he said he needed my original documents to file an amendment to the deed. He kept them for three days. I had even felt sorry that he was handling all the errands and cooked him a pot roast. While eating it, he smiled and said, "Jules, you're so good to me." He had not been moved by my kindness. He had been hiding his guilt. Chapter 4 When I returned home that night, I waited in the living room. At nine thirty, Marcus came home from work and jumped when he saw me sitting in the dark. "Jules? Why didn't you turn on the lights?" "Marcus Caldwell, what is Caldwell Wholesale?" His hand paused for one second as he removed his shoes. Only one second. Then he continued. "It's a small company Tyler registered. He does wholesale distribution." "Why are you asking?" "A $120,000 business loan was deposited into Caldwell Wholesale. "The borrower is me. "The collateral is my house. "Did you know about it?" The sound of television show that his mother was watching still drifted from the living room. Marcus pulled me into the guest room, shut the door, and leaned against it. His gentle expression turned into a coldness I had never seen. "Jules, have you been investigating me?" "Answer the question." "I arranged it." He said it as if he had every right. "Tyler needed start-up capital. He has no assets, so he couldn't qualify for financing. "You own a house. The interest rate was lower, and approval was faster. "I only borrowed your qualifications. "It's not as though the money won't be repaid." "Borrowed?" My voice rose beyond my control. "You used my identification to take out a loan, mortgaged my house, and transferred every dollar to your brother. "You never even mentioned it to me. "You call that borrowing?" "Jules, keep your voice down." He frowned toward the door. "Mom is in the living room." "I don't care who is in the living room!" I stood and drove one finger into his chest. "Marcus Caldwell, this is my house! "You mortgaged it for your brother. Did you ask me? "What right did you have to touch my property?" "Your property?" He looked down at my finger against his chest, and the corner of his mouth curved. "Jules, my name is on the deed. "Legally, half of this house belongs to me. "What's wrong with using my half as collateral?" I stared at the man before me, who had become a complete stranger. When he asked me to add his name, he said family did not divide things. When he asked me to sign the agreement, he said it was only a formality. When he took my identification, he said he was handling paperwork for me. Every step had been gentle. Every cut had been calculated. "You planned this from the beginning." I stared into his eyes, my voice shaking violently. "Adding your name, making me sign that agreement, taking out the loan, moving in your mother and brother... "Did you think I was stupid? "Did you think I was easy to exploit? "Did you think I would tolerate this forever?" Marcus did not deny it. He only looked at me calmly. "Jules, settle down. "I'll repay the money. Nothing will happen to the house. "Don't make this public. It'll embarrass everyone." Embarrass everyone. That phrase again. Every time he crossed a line, he used embarrassment to silence me. As though my resistance were the problem and his wrongdoing were insignificant. I didn't sleep that night. In the guest room, I reviewed every document I could find. The purchase contract, contribution agreement, copies of loan documents, and bank statements. The more I read, the colder I felt. And the colder I felt, the clearer my mind became. At four in the morning, I sent Natalie a message. "Find me an attorney. Quickly."