Page 35 of Before I Say I Don’t

The bag gleamed under the chandelier, stuffed to the brim with skincare, hair care, health care, and perfumes peeking out like it was put together by a bougie survivalist.

“When you finally start taking girls’ trips again, you’re not about to roll up with no busted luggage. You’re showing up moisturized, perfumed, and looking like the woman people regret losing.” She winked.

A low chorus of “mmhm”s and “period”s circled the table.

“Thank you, sis. I didn’t realize how much I missed planning something that’s just for me .” My voice thinned on the last word.

Serena squeezed my knee under the table.

Danica’s smile flickered warm, then wicked. “Exactly. We’re back outside… but with standards.”

Danica didn’t linger in the tenderness; she pivoted like a pro, fingers already reaching for the next surprise.

Another smaller box appeared that seemed to carry more than just jewelry.

I pulled the ribbon loose. As I lifted the lid, the room seemed to lean with me. Inside, cushioned in velvet, sat a Cartier Ballon Bleu watch; its silver-and-gold face gleamed.

A collective gasp broke across the table.

Danica didn’t even let the sound finish traveling around the room before she spoke up.

“Because your time is valuable, sis. And I wanted you to wear something that makes people respect every single second of it,” she explained.

My throat tightened, but I still managed, “Thank you, sis.”

The weight of it in my palm felt like power—heavy enough to remind me I deserved more than wasted hours and cheap apologies.

Danica leaned back, lips curving, voice playful but certain. “Always. But there’s more.”

The next gift was a glossy certificate tucked in a lacquer-black folder.

I slid it out carefully. A name I recognized from those travel vlogs I watched at two a.m. when sleep and peace wouldn’t come was listed at the top in bold letters.

My eyes widened in surprise and pure excitement. “Danica! This place—this is that hidden luxury resort!”

Danica nodded, proudly. “Yup, sis, the one you’re always telling me about. After all this chaos, you’re going to need a reset, sis… a real one. Not a bubble bath with lavender Epsom salt. Two tickets—pick wisely who you take with you.”

Before I could even form words, Serena slapped the table so hard the silverware jumped. “Hell, take me!” she exclaimed, pointing both thumbs at her chest like a game-show contestant. “I’m fun, I tip good, and I don’t hog the bathroom or the mirror! Ask anybody—I travel light, and I bring snacks!”

Laughter popped like confetti.

Danica gave her a playful side-eye. “Girl, if enthusiasm was the requirement, you’d already be packed.”

Laughter rolled around the table again. Even Diane chuckled, dabbing the corner of her eye.

“I haven’t had a reset in years,” I admitted, quietly. “Just… pauses that felt like punishment.”

The room softened around me. Danica didn’t rush the moment; she let it breathe.

The next gift was a personalized leather-bound journal with my initials embossed in gold and a luxury pen nestled beside it like a co-conspirator.

Danica’s reason poured out like she’d been saving it.

“I’m sure you’re curious… why this? Well, after all this madness, you’re going to need somewhere to pour your thoughts, your dreams, your plans… and maybe even your secrets. Every boss woman needs a place to write her story, and I want yours to shine.”

I traced my initials—K.S.—and saw a version of myself who wasn’t just surviving but choosing.

“I’m going to actually use this,” I whispered. “Not just to write in the first three pages and forget it on the nightstand.” I chuckled.

Danica slid one last box toward me and leaned back, folding her arms with theatrical satisfaction.

“I saved the best one for last.”

When I lifted the Louboutins from their box, the red soles caught the light, and every head at the table tilted.

“These red bottoms… they’re not just shoes; they’re strategy. They’re for your walk into whatever’s next… and it better be a damn upgrade, sis.”

I grinned. “Sis, you really didn’t have to?—”

“Yes, I did,” Danica cut off with a playful wink. “Consider it my investment in your exit strategy.”

Diane’s smile dimmed just slightly. “Well, I thought my gift was pretty thoughtful.”

“It was,” I said appreciatively, turning to her and laying a hand over my heart. “Truly.” I let the sincerity land, then placed my hand on the coffee machine. “I need this just as much as the shoes.”

Diane’s shoulders loosened; the insecure little shadow left her eyes.

Across the table, Danica’s lips curved with the smallest hint of victory, but she kept it gracious, tapping her glass with a nail.

The bridal shower continued with games. Serena and Lena kept hyping me up while Kendall kept her usual energy—teasing, lively, tossing playful shade at whoever won each game.

“That trivia game was rigged,” she said, side-eyeing Serena, who’d won the biggest prize.

Zaria was watching everything with that half-smile that could go either way, like she was piecing together a puzzle only she could see. Jayla didn’t really talk much—just ate, played with her phone, and gave halfhearted responses during the games.

Through it all, my facade never cracked. I laughed in the right places, posed for pictures, thanked everyone for coming… but in the back of my mind, I was already planning exactly how I was going to blow all of this to pieces when the time was right.

Zaria sat with her legs crossed, with a pair of designer sunglasses resting on her head, sipping her drink like she was at a gallery opening rather than my shower.

“I can’t believe he’s really getting married,” she said casually, setting her glass down.

I turned to her, eyebrows arched. “Why such a surprise?”

“You would’ve had to know Angelo years ago to understand why.”

I leaned back. “How long have you and Angelo been friends?” I quizzed.

Zaria hesitated, her fingers tapping the stem of her glass. “A while.”

“How long is ‘a while’?”

“Um… a few years.”

I tilted my head. “How’d you two even meet?” I further investigated, not letting up too easily.

She shifted nervously in her seat, gaze slipping toward her lap. “Through a mutual friend.”

“Interesting,” I murmured, letting the pause stretch just long enough for discomfort to ripple across her face. Then I offered a small, knowing smile and deliberately turned my attention away, dismissing her with silence more powerful than anything I could’ve said.

Serena stood, tapping her glass with a fork until the chatter dimmed. Her eyes shone, wide with nerves and sincerity, but her smile was bright as she lifted her flute.

“I have an announcement to make,” she started, her voice quivering just enough to be endearing.

“First off, I just want to say thank you, Kamira, for letting me be a part of your bridal party. You didn’t have to pick me, but you did, and that means the world to me.

I look up to you more than I even know how to say.

You’ve carried yourself with strength and grace through things that would’ve broken other people, and I pray I can be half the woman you are when it’s my turn. ”

“Serena…” I whispered, touched by her kind words.

But Serena wasn’t done. She dropped her hand to her hip and let out a laugh, eyes twinkling like she was about to stir the pot.

“But I’ve always wondered… and maybe a few of these ladies here are curious as well…” She paused dramatically, glancing around the table until every eye was on me. “How the hell did you become a millionaire and so damn successful at your age?!”

“You’re a mess,” I teased, shaking my head.

Serena wagged her finger. “And a closed mouth doesn’t get fed! So put us on game, sis! Drop the blueprint, the cheat codes, the cliff notes…. something! I’m trying to retire early too!”

The table clapped and hollered in agreement, glasses thumping against the wood.

I leaned forward a little, letting the pause build before revealing my secret to success.

“Two things—I said yes when other people said no, and I didn’t touch my money unless it made me more money.”

A few heads bobbed instantly, like they were already scribbling mental notes in invisible notebooks.

“That’s it? That’s your secret?” Serena asked, squinting at me like I’d just given her a diet tip instead of a blueprint.

I swirled the wine in my glass, savoring it before I gave them the more extended version.

“That’s the short version. The long one?

I worked eighty-hour weeks in my twenties, took the worst clients because they brought the biggest returns, made partner by twenty-eight, and invested like I was allergic to broke.

“Oh—” sipped wine “—and I didn’t buy dumb stuff just to prove I was making money. ”

Lena leaned in, smirking. “So no yacht… or five Birkin bags?”

“Girl, no!” I laughed, shaking my head. “The goal was freedom, not flexing. Now, though?” I stretched my arms out, showing off the sparkle on my wrist; the diamond glinted under the lights. “Now I can flex while I’m free.”

That line set the whole table off—cheers, claps, even someone snapped like we were in poetry night.

Serena raised her glass high. “Okay then! Flex and free! Goals!”

“Yup!”

Ten minutes later, the champagne, water, and wine finally caught up with me.

“I’ll be back. I gotta pee!” I whispered to Danica, scooting my chair back before anyone noticed, rushing toward the hall bathroom.

As soon as I touched the knob, my irritation spiked. My heels clicked against the hardwood as I shifted my weight, knocking twice for good measure.

“Is somebody in there?” My tone was clipped, more impatient than polite.

“It’s me, sis!” Kendall’s voice floated through the door, muffled but unmistakable.

“You may want to go to another bathroom. I don’t know what y’all put in those deviled eggs, but it just declared war on my stomach!

My wig is sweating, and the paint on these walls might start to peel! Fair warning!”