What We Left Behind

Chapter 3

Maya’s POV

The park is beautiful today, all green grass and blue sky. Families are everywhere—flying kites, having picnics, playing frisbee. Normal people doing normal things on a normal Saturday.

I find Marcus sitting on a bench near the tea garden, his hands clasped between his knees. He looks up when I approach, and I'm shocked by how tired he looks. Claire was right—this is not the cool, collected Marcus I'm used to seeing.

"Thanks for coming," he says, standing up.

"What's going on, Marcus? You're scaring me."

He runs a hand through his hair. "Let's walk."

We start down one of the paths, neither of us speaking for a minute. Finally, Marcus breaks the silence.

"How much do you know about Daniel's past? Before you met him?"

"I know he had a serious girlfriend before me. Vanessa something. She left him to take a job in London right before he was going to propose. It broke his heart, but he was over her by the time we met."

Marcus makes a sound that might be a laugh, but there's no humor in it. "Is that what he told you?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Because Vanessa is back. She came back to San Francisco two weeks ago."

The world tilts. I stop walking, gripping Marcus's arm to steady myself. "What?"

"She called Daniel. Said she needed to see him, that it was urgent. He's been meeting with her. That's where he was last night."

I can't breathe. "Meeting with her? Why?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out." Marcus's jaw clenches. "Daniel won't tell me the whole story. But from what I've pieced together, Vanessa is claiming something happened four years ago. Something involving you."

"Me? I don't even know her. I've never met her."

"She says you're the reason she left."

I stare at him. "That's insane. How could I be the reason? I didn't even know Daniel existed four years ago."

"I know. And I told him that. But Vanessa has evidence—or she claims to have evidence. Emails, bank statements, something. She's convinced Daniel that you orchestrated her departure so you could have him for yourself."

"That's completely insane!" My voice is too loud, and a nearby family looks over. I lower it to a harsh whisper. "Marcus, you know me. Do you honestly think I could do something like that?"

"No. I don't. Which is why I'm telling you all this." He stops walking and turns to face me. "But Maya, Daniel believes her. Or he's starting to. She's in his head, playing on his insecurities and his guilt. And I don't know how to stop it."

I think I might be sick. "Why didn't he tell me? Why is he sneaking around with her?"

"Because he doesn't want to believe it. Part of him knows it can't be true. But Vanessa is very convincing, and she's using his feelings for her—his old feelings—to manipulate him."

"Does he still have feelings for her?"

Marcus hesitates, and that hesitation tells me everything. "I think part of him never got over her. She was his first real love, and she left without a real explanation. Now she's back, giving him closure, or what looks like closure. And in the process, she's poisoning him against you."

I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly cold despite the warm afternoon. "What does she want?"

"Him. Obviously. And she'll destroy your marriage to get him if she has to."

"She already is destroying it." I blink back tears. "He barely looks at me anymore. He's never home. And when he is home, he's a stranger."

Marcus puts a hand on my shoulder. "You need to fight for him, Maya. Don't let her win without a fight."

But I'm thinking about the pregnancy test results in my purse. About the two tiny lives growing inside me. About Dr. Mitchell's warning that stress could harm them.

How do I fight for a man who's already chosen to believe lies about me? How do I compete with his first love, the one who got away?

We met at a tech conference four years ago. I was there for my marketing firm, he was there pitching his startup to potential investors. I'd ducked into the bathroom to escape a particularly boring presentation, and he'd been standing by the sinks, giving himself a pep talk in the mirror.

"You've got this," he'd been saying to his reflection. "You're brilliant, your product is solid, and if they don't see that, they're idiots."

I'd laughed, and he'd spun around, mortified. But then he'd grinned, and that grin had done something to my heart.

"How much of that did you hear?" he'd asked.

"Enough to know you're either very confident or a very good actor."

"Can't I be both?"

We'd talked for an hour, missing the rest of the conference. He'd asked for my number, I'd given it to him, and three months later, he'd shown up at my apartment with roses and a ring.

"I know it's fast," he'd said. "I know everyone will think we're crazy. But Maya, I've never been more sure of anything in my life. You're it for me. You're everything."

I'd said yes without hesitation.

Were we crazy? Maybe. But it had felt right. It had felt like finally finding the piece of myself I didn't know was missing.

Now, standing in this park with Marcus telling me my husband is being turned against me by his ex-girlfriend, I wonder if I ever really knew him at all.

"I need to go," I say suddenly. "I need to think."

"Maya, wait—" Marcus calls after me, but I'm already walking away, practically running back to my car.

My phone is buzzing—Daniel calling—but I ignore it. I can't talk to him right now. I can't pretend everything is fine when my whole world is falling apart.

I drive without a destination, just needing to move, to do something. My mind is spinning with everything Marcus told me. Vanessa is back. She's claiming I destroyed her relationship with Daniel. She has supposed evidence. And Daniel is believing her.

How is any of this possible? How can someone fabricate an entire conspiracy theory about me, and how can my husband—the man who promised to love and trust me—fall for it?

I think about Daniel's behavior over the past two weeks. The distance. The late nights. The way he looks at me sometimes, like he's seeing a stranger. It all makes sense now. He's been meeting with Vanessa, listening to her lies, letting her poison his mind against me.

And I've been planning to tell him about our babies, thinking it would bring us closer together. What a joke.

The thought of the twins grounds me. I place a hand on my stomach, where two tiny lives are growing, completely unaware of the chaos surrounding them. They deserve better than this. They deserve a father who trusts their mother. They deserve a stable, loving home.

Can I give them that if Daniel doesn't believe in me?

Before I realize where I'm going, I find myself in front of my mother's house, a small bungalow in the Sunset district. The garden is in full bloom, roses and lavender creating a riot of color against the pale yellow walls.

I sit in my car for a moment, trying to compose myself. But the tears are already falling, and I can't stop them.

Mom must have seen me pull up because the front door opens, and she comes out in her gardening clothes, dirt on her knees and concern on her face. "Maya? What's wrong?"

I get out of the car, and the moment she pulls me into her arms, I completely fall apart. Right there on her driveway, I sob so hard I can barely breathe. All the fear, the hurt, the confusion—it pours out of me in great, heaving waves.

"Shh, baby. It's okay. I've got you." She strokes my hair the way she did when I was little and had scraped my knee or lost a friend.

But it's not okay. My marriage is falling apart because of a woman I've never met, a woman who's spinning elaborate lies about me. My husband won't even talk to me, won't give me a chance to defend myself against accusations I don't even understand. And I'm carrying his children—our children—but I can't tell him because I don't know if he'll even care.

"Come inside," Mom says gently, guiding me toward the house. "Whatever it is, we'll figure it out together."

I let her lead me inside, into the familiar warmth of her kitchen. The smell of fresh herbs from her garden fills the air. She sits me down at the table and puts the kettle on, moving with the practiced efficiency of a mother who's handled countless crises over the years.

"Now," she says, sitting across from me and taking my hands. "Tell me everything."

And I do. I tell her about Daniel's late nights and distance. About the pregnancy and my plan to tell him. About Claire's warning and Marcus's revelation. About Vanessa and her impossible claims and supposed evidence. About how my husband is starting to believe I'm some kind of manipulative villain who destroyed his previous relationship.

Mom listens without interrupting, her face growing more serious with each detail. When I finish, she's quiet for a long moment.

"That's quite a story," she finally says. "And this Vanessa woman—you've never met her? Never heard of her before?"

"Never. I swear, Mom. Daniel told me about an ex who moved to London, but that was it. I've never done anything to hurt her or anyone else."

"I believe you." She squeezes my hands. "The question is, does Daniel?"

That's what breaks me all over again. The man I married, the man whose children I'm carrying, doesn't trust me. Doesn't even give me the benefit of the doubt.

"What do I do?" I ask through my tears. "How do I fight something like this?"

"First, you need to find out exactly what Vanessa is claiming and what evidence she supposedly has. You can't defend yourself against vague accusations."

"But Daniel won't talk to me. Every time I try, he shuts down or gets angry or makes excuses."

"Then you find another way. Talk to Vanessa yourself. Confront her."

The thought terrifies me. "What if that makes things worse?"

"Worse than your husband believing lies about you?" Mom raises an eyebrow. "Maya, you're stronger than this. You've always been a fighter. Don't let some woman you've never met destroy everything you've built."

She's right. I know she's right. But I feel so tired, so defeated.

"There's something else," I say quietly. "The babies. Dr. Mitchell said stress could harm them. How do I fight for my marriage while also protecting my pregnancy?"

Mom's face softens. "You do it carefully. You do it smart. And you let the people who love you help." She pauses. "Have you told Daniel about the twins?"

"No. I was waiting for the right moment, but there hasn't been one. And now... I don't know if I should. What if he doesn't care? What if he's so convinced I'm this terrible person that he doesn't even want them?"

"That's fear talking. The Daniel I've met, the man who looked at you like you hung the moon on your wedding day—that man would care. But you're right to be cautious. You need to protect yourself and those babies first."

My phone buzzes. It's Daniel again. I stare at his name on the screen, my thumb hovering over the answer button.

"What should I say to him?" I ask.

"Nothing, yet. Not until you have more information. Go home, act normal, and figure out your next move. But Maya—" She looks at me seriously. "Whatever you discover, whatever happens, remember that you're not alone. You have me, you have Claire, and you have two little ones depending on you. That's your foundation. Everything else, you can rebuild if you need to."

I nod, wiping my eyes. She's right. I have to be strong, not just for me, but for my babies.

But as I drive home, the weight of everything settles on my shoulders. Somewhere in this city, a woman I've never met is systematically destroying my life with lies. And the man I love is letting her.

The apartment is silent; I watch Daniel sleep and realize I no longer recognize him.

Tomorrow, I'll figure out how to fight back.

Tomorrow, I'll find a way to uncover the truth.

But tonight, I just need to survive.