Page 51 of Before I Say I Don’t

“I hated it… every moment of it. But he threatened me, you know? Every time I tried to pull away, Angelo would remind me of the debt I owed him—the promises I'd made. It felt suffocating.” Her voice trembled as she cast her gaze to the floor, unable to meet my eyes.

“I’m really sorry, Kamira. You’re lucky you don’t have to experience what the others went through, but I regret not telling you sooner.

I could've warned you… saved you from this financial burden on this wedding, this pain, this humiliation.” Her voice lowered, filled with vulnerability.

“I was just... scared of what he might do.”

The room hummed with restless whispers—some pitying, some disgusted. One guest muttered, “That’s no excuse,” while another sighed, “At least she admitted it.”

My arms folded tighter across my chest, though inside, my grip softened.

I wanted to hate her, to strip her of every excuse, every tear.

But part of me saw it—the regret etched into her face, the weight of years carrying someone else’s dirt.

It didn’t excuse her betrayal—not by a long shot—but I wondered if Zaria wasn’t just guilty… but collateral too.

“It was okay at first!” Kendall began confessing, her voice cracking.

All eyes traveled to her.

“When it was just money and names, that is. My brother spoiled me, bought me everything and told me he was the reason I had nice things… and that was true. I thought it was harmless. But when Elaine died… and Sasha lost herself, I told him I didn’t want to be part of it anymore.”

Tears—probably fake—slid down Kendall’s cheeks, uneven, messy.

“But he made me… so did Mama.”

Diane sat with her arms crossed tightly, her jaw clenched, and a storm brewing in her hazel eyes. She had the look of a woman seething with rage—not merely at the truth that had just been uttered, but because her daughter had the audacity to voice it so brazenly in front of everyone.

Her glare pierced through the room like daggers. That heavy silence—far more potent than any shouted outburst—cut deeper, leaving a lingering unease in the atmosphere, as each person in the room felt the weight of the unspoken conflict between the mother and daughter.

My stomach clenched tight, the realization crashing down on me with relentless force.

“For the love of money,” Danica muttered, shaking her head in disbelief.

Unlike Zaria, Kendall’s confession didn’t move me one bit. She wasn’t trembling with regret; she was just caught . The same girl who sat in corners whispering about me and smiled in my face while dragging my name in private, was now crying because the walls had finally caved in.

There was no faking that, and she damn sure couldn’t come back from it.

Not with me. Not ever.

You weren’t just complicit , Kendall; you were comfortable. You cashed in on my pain before it was even mine. And now you want pity? Nah. That debt is eternal.

“Sis, it looks like we need to do another trial,” Danica suggested, her voice dripping with glee.

I shook my head slowly. “No. We’re done here.

More secrets might crawl out if we keep digging, and honestly?

I’ve had enough filth for one day. This circus already gave me more than I bargained for—and I’m not wasting another second of my life putting him on trial.

He’s guilty. Period. And that’s all the record needs. ”

I pivoted to Viangelo, took two steps forward. and slapped the hell out of him.

The sound cracked through the air like a gunshot. Gasps erupted as he stumbled back, clutching his face, eyes wide with pain, anger, and—most of all—embarrassment.

“Tell me something, though,” I said into the mic, my eyes cutting through him. “Is Viangelo even your real name? Are you really even a financial consultant—or was that just another lie you packaged up in a suit and tie?”

His jaw clenched, but he forced his voice steady.

“Yes. That’s my real name. And yes, I’m a consultant.

Everything I told you, everything I gave you, it was real.

We were real.” Viangelo tried to soften his tone, glancing at the crowd like they’d cosign.

“I loved you, Kamira. I still love you. Don’t let all this noise make you forget that. Don’t let them take what we built.”

Viangelo shook his head, desperation leaking into his words. “Yeah, I messed up. But that doesn’t erase what we had. You know me better than anybody. You know my heart. Don’t act like you don’t.”

The crowd shifted uneasily, some whispering, some rolling their eyes at his performance.

I tilted my head. “Your heart? Angelo, your heart was on tour with half this guest list. And let’s be clear—you didn’t ‘mess up’; you lied, cheated and conned.

You built a whole life out of smoke and mirrors and thought nobody would notice.

You call that love? That’s not love. That’s fraud with a bow on it.

And today, the mask finally slipped.” I shook my head.

“I thank God for the truth, even though it didn’t come from you.

This just goes to show, you were never my forever.

You were a very expensive lesson… a thief of my time, to put it bluntly.

Today, all your lies and deceit finally caught up with you…

and maybe there’s more still hiding. But today I also realized the same thing Beyoncé learned.

I dodged a bullet and the best thing I ever did was not end up marrying you.

” I stepped closer, letting my words slice the silence.

“And one day, you’ll wake up and realize I’m the best thing you’ll never have again. ”

Phones shot up to capture the moment, voices overlapping in disbelief and cheers.

Renée tossed the marriage license at his feet. The paper landed face-up with his fake name and hers stamped in bold black ink.

“I could ask for a divorce,” she said, her voice icy, slicing through the murmurs of the onlookers.

“But since you used a false identity, that constitutes fraud. Which means once a judge lays eyes on this—” she gestured emphatically to the certificate—“they’ll grant an annulment immediately .

Oh, and the police? They’ll be very interested in this little stunt too.

Fraud, false identity, almost bigamy—take your pick.

Oh, and someone, not here today, will see this, because I’m sure half of this room has recorded the whole damn thing!

Hell, we’re probably on live right now! One way or another, you’re leaving here in handcuffs, whether by law or by lies catching up to you. ”

Renée took one deliberate step closer, her voice rising like a battle cry. “This time, Renée White is gonna… win! ” It rang out, reminiscent of Jennifer Hudson’s powerful voice in the movie Dreamgirls.

With that, she turned on her heel, her stride purposeful and confident, and walked back up the aisle with the kind of poise only a woman with nothing left to lose could pull off.

“Wow,” I muttered, my voice just loud enough for the whole crowd to hear.

“You really are the scum of the fuckin’ earth.

I never want to see you again. I’ll have all your things sent to your mama’s doorstep.

And if you even think about showing up to my place again, I’ll make sure you’re charged with trespassing, harassment, and whatever else I can stack on you.

Try me if you want to. They don’t call me the goat for nothing.

And just so you’ll know I’m not singling you out—your mama and sister will be escorted out with you. Get them out of here!”

“Kam, please! Don’t do this, baby! I can explain! I’ll change! I swear! Just give me one more—” Viangelo’s voice cracked, pathetic and desperate, but the guards didn’t loosen their hold.

Kendall didn’t say a word—not in her defense, not in her brother’s. Just silence.

Diane, though, wasn’t having it. She shot up out of her chair. “You can’t put me out! This is my family, my son, my blood! You think you can embarrass us like this and just—” Her voice broke, shrill with rage, but nobody moved to back her up.

My gaze swept to Zaria. We exchanged a quiet, cordial look—an acknowledgment, not friendship, not forgiveness, just… understanding.

Danica stepped forward, snatching the mic from me before anyone else could even process what just happened.

She cleared her throat, flashing her I’m still unbothered smile to the crowd.

“Whew… well, folks,” she began, her tone smooth, like she was emceeing a corporate gala instead of a wedding gone nuclear. “That was… different. Not exactly what we had planned for today’s program, but here at Team Kamira, we are nothing if not adaptable.”

A few chuckles stirred through the room.

Danica turned to the crowd with mock-seriousness.

“Again—yes… the reception is still happening. We paid for that hall, that DJ, and those hors d’oeuvres.

Ain’t nobody getting a refund. We’ve got champagne chilling, a dance floor waiting, and if we’re being real, after this little soap opera, I think we all could us a drink. ”

“Or five!” somebody yelled.

The laughter grew louder, people nodding in agreement.

“Since a few folks had to leave a little early,” Danica added slyly, “we’ll just make some quick edits to the seating chart… maybe move a few people to the far, far back.”

The crowd hollered, laughter bouncing off the walls.

Danica straightened her shoulders and slipped into full wedding host mode.

“So here’s the plan. We’re gonna take about ten minutes to let everyone breathe, maybe collect a few wigs and egos off the floor, and then I’ll see all y’all in the reception hall!

Because if there’s one thing we do around here…

it’s celebrate! And if there’s one thing we don’t do…

it’s let a lying-ass groom mess up the party! ”

A couple of “Amens!” were thrown in for good measure.

“You good, baby?” Roman’s voice was low, calm… too calm for the mess swirling around us.