Page 13 of Before I Say I Don’t

Chapter Five

KAMIRA

I had taken that Monday off with the intention of truly unwinding. It was meant to be my special day—just me engulfed in soft, plush robes, indulging in the calming scent of lavender oil, far away from any wedding chaos.

After surrendering myself to three blissful hours at the spa—starting with a fresh mani and pedi, then moving on to a rejuvenating facial, a soothing massage, and ample time in the steam room that made me forget I even had a fiancé—I felt like a completely new person.

The world felt quieter when I wasn’t thinking about timelines or bridesmaid attitudes, like silence was a gift I’d forgotten I needed.

The nail tech had even given me a little glass of champagne while I got my pedicure, so I was floating, light and easy, when I pulled up to my house. But then, my heart sank.

A black Lexus, parked carelessly at a diagonal, almost as if it were claiming my driveway as her own.

Diane.

I sat in my car for a good thirty seconds, forehead against the steering wheel, praying for strength.

Lord, please don’t let her ruin my spa day high.

With a reluctant sigh, I gathered my belongings and fashioned a "be civil" smile across my face, bracing myself as I approached the house. Sure enough, there she was, poised on my porch with her legs elegantly crossed, exuding an air of entitlement.

“Kamira,” she greeted me, her tone oozing with the disingenuous warmth she reserved for public occasions. “I happened to be in the area, so I thought I’d pop by and share some ideas for the wedding décor.”

Translation: she was there to dissect and critique every little detail I’d already chosen.

I returned her smile, polite and practiced. “Of course. Always good to hear new ideas.”

Her expression brightened. “Wonderful!” .

We stepped inside, and I found myself internally counting to ten, trying to keep my composure as she pulled out her little binder full of swatches and magazine clippings.

“You definitely have better taste than the last one,” she said.

My body froze mid-nod, a quizzical expression creeping onto my face. “The last one?”

For a brief moment, I caught her eyes darting away—an involuntary reaction that spoke volumes.

“Oh, just… the last event I assisted with… my cousin’s daughter's wedding.”

Mm-hmm. Quick save… a little too quick.

I curated a slow smile, one that conveyed I heard you, but I’m letting it slide… for now.

Without missing a beat, she quickly redirected the conversation back to floral arrangements, rattling on until she ultimately decided it was time to “let me get back to my day.”

The second she left, I went straight to the kitchen counter and hit the button on my answering machine, and the device whirred to life.

One new message displayed on the screen.

“Hi, Kamira! This is Mariah from Landry Hall Event Center. I probably should’ve called sooner, but I wanted to give you a courtesy call.

We’ve been trying to reach your fiancé, Mr. Grant, about the remaining balance for your venue, but unfortunately, we haven’t received any response.

The balance was due last week, and as it stands, your reservation is at serious risk of cancellation if we don’t receive payment by tomorrow.

Since I know you personally, I thought it was best to give you a direct heads-up before things move any further. Please call me back today. Thank you.”

As the message ended, I stood there, my good mood evaporating like it had never existed.

Balance past due? A potential cancellation?

I grabbed my phone, dialing before I could talk myself out of it.

“Landry Hall, this is Mariah," came her cheery voice.

“Hey, Mariah. This is Kamira Sinclair. I just listened to your message. Can you clarify what you mean by the balance being past due ? My fiancé was supposed to take care of the payments for the venue.”

“Correct,” she replied, her tone professional but tinged with concern. “We received the deposit six months ago, but there has been no payment since. The full amount is now overdue, and it must be settled by tomorrow if you still plan to have the wedding here.”

My hands clenched around the phone, sweat prickling at my brow.

“How much are we talking about here?”

When she revealed the amount, I felt like I had been punched in the gut.

That wasn’t some low-budget hall; that was a lavish, high-end, glass-chandelier, marble-floors, the kind of place that hosted exclusive events and had a lengthy waitlist for bookings.

“Alright,” I replied tightly. “I’ll make sure it’s taken care of first thing tomorrow. Thank you for the heads-up.”

When I hung up, my back hit the counter in exasperation.

All those late nights. All those excuses about “working overtime for the wedding.” And this man hasn’t paid a dime past the deposit?

My spa day was officially ruined.

By the time Viangelo walked through the door, I was already seated at the dining table, arms crossed tightly against my chest, glaring at him as if he had just strolled in from robbing a bank.

He casually kicked his shoes off like nothing was wrong. “Hey, baby. What’s for dinner?”

“Oh, I don’t know… maybe a generous serving of overdue bills, a side of disappointment, and a tall glass filled to the brim with half-truths ! And let’s not forget for dessert! Cupcakes frosted with unmet expectations and extra sprinkles!” I retorted, my voice sharp and laden with frustration.

Viangelo halted abruptly, caught mid-motion, confusion written in every line of his face.

“What?”

I pushed my chair back, the screeching sound echoing through the otherwise silent room, and rose to my full height.

“You forgot to finish paying for the venue, Angelo!”

“Damn… I did. Is that what this is about?” he asked, tone flat, as if it barely mattered.

I jerked my head back, disbelief tightening my chest. “Uh… yeah !”

“Kam, look, I?—”

“You what?!” I cut in, my voice rising with each word.

“Because Mariah from Landry Hall informed me today that they haven’t received a single payment since the deposit!

Unless you’ve been living under a rock for the past few months, you know the venue is the most important thing for this wedding!

It’s the place! The date! The foundation everything else is built around! ” I argued.

Viangelo ran a hand over his face.

“I’ma just keep it all the way real. I don’t have it right now, Kam. That’s the truth.” His gaze dropped to the floor, avoiding my eyes.

My breath caught. “You… you don’t have it?

” My voice trembled, a mixture of disbelief and rage coursing through me.

“And how the hell not, Angelo?! You make good money... even after taxes. So you should have at least fifty thousand stashed away, if not more! Not to mention, you’ve had six months to handle this!

Six months! And you’re telling me you don’t have the funds? !”

In that moment, I felt a wave of déjà vu wash over me, reminiscent of that meeting when Danica had been scolding Jayla for not being able to hold up her end of the bargain.

The same excuses. The same shrug. The same look of somebody who thought deadlines were suggestions.

What the fuck was going on? I wondered.

I felt like I was in a group chat for an upcoming big trip, and everybody kept bailing at the last minute with excuses like, ‘oh, I’m broke,’ ‘oh, my job won’t let me off,’ ‘oh, I forgot my passport.’ Except that wasn’t Cancun… it was my damn wedding.

Viangelo’s mouth opened, then closed. “Some shit came up.”

I scoffed, sharp and bitter. “Some shit came up? That’s your defense? So this ‘shit’ is more important than one of the biggest days of your life?!”

“Kam.”

He tried to touch my arm, but I jerked away.

“No! Don’t Kam, me! First, it was your excuse of forgetting, and now it’s that you simply don’t have it! So which one is the truth?! Because either way, it feels like you’ve been lying to me!”

He bristled. “Both. But I didn’t lie… I just didn’t tell you.”

“Same thing!” I retorted, my voice rising with indignation.

“Kam, you’re acting like I don’t have it because I’m out here wasting money.”

I stepped closer. “I don’t know what the hell you’re doing!

But if you’re not just giving it away, then where the hell is it going?

! It certainly isn’t covering the venue, the floral arrangements, the catering, the photographer's fees, or even my bridal gown—all of which I’ve already settled.

You haven’t even chipped in for a wedding favor!

You were responsible for one simple task, Angelo…

just one ! Well, aside from your tuxedo, that is.

And now I find out you don’t even have the remaining balance for the venue! ”

Viangelo let out a heavy sigh, his demeanor dismissive as if my concerns were trivial.

“You’re blowing this out of proportion. I’ma find a way to handle it.”

“Oh, is that right? Like, say… by tomorrow ?” I shot back; my arms crossed defiantly over my chest. “Because according to Mariah, if the venue’s balance isn’t paid in full by then, there won’t be a wedding… at least not at that establishment... for us .”

He fell silent, the weight of my words hanging heavily in the air.

I let out a dry chuckle, though there was no trace of amusement in it.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll pay it—just like I’ve paid for everything else that’s needed for this wedding.”

“For real, Kam?”

“Shit… am I lying? Because that’s what I’ve been doing since day one, right?

Picking up your slack. Masking the truths that could unravel our carefully constructed image, so that we don’t end up looking like fools while you get to play the part of ‘good man’ to everybody else, and I hold my breath, hoping no one else notices the cracks because God forbid we lose the facade of being the perfect couple! ”

His jaw clenched. “You’re not being fair.”