Page 52 of Before I Say I Don’t

I exhaled slowly, still steadying myself. “I’m good. Shaken, but standing. And standing is enough for me right now.”

He nodded in understanding.

That’s when Serena and Lena approached us, both shaking their heads but with very different expressions.

“Well damn, Kamira…” Serena began, eyes flicking between me and Roman. “I had my doubts about you and this one, but… after seeing that ?” She whistled low. “I might be a believer now.”

Lena elbowed Serena lightly. “Ignore her. I just want you to know, you handled yourself like a queen in there. All that? That was power.”

“Thank you.” I smiled faintly, the tension in my chest loosening for just a second. “Sorry y’all had to witness that and see me in character like that.”

Serena waved me off with a laugh. “Girl, please! Don’t apologize. That was better than any Netflix special I’ve binged this year. If anything, I should be paying you a subscription fee.”

I shook my head, chuckling as Lena rolled her eyes.

Serena leaned in closer. “Anyway, come on, Lena. Let’s go find some liquor before I say something reckless.” She grabbed Lena’s arm and pulled her away, tossing me a wink over her shoulder.

I chuckled, the sound lighter than I expected.

Danica came over next, walking with that deliberate strut of someone who ran every room she stepped into. She stopped in front of me, eyes shining.

“I am so damn proud of you,” Danica expressed, her voice low but packed with emotion. “You didn’t just walk through fire today; you danced in it and owned it, baby sis! And I don’t ever want you forgetting who you are after this moment.”

Roman nodded slightly in agreement.

Danica turned her focus to him, deadly serious. “You take care of her… or else.”

Roman smirked. “Or else what?”

Danica didn’t blink. “Or else you’ll be the next defendant standing in this courtroom, and trust me, I sentence harder than the state.”

Roman chuckled, but there was respect in his eyes. “Don’t worry, Danica. She’s mine now. I promise you, no one will ever hurt her or disrespect her again… not on my watch.”

Satisfied, Danica gave my hand a squeeze before stepping back. “I love you, sis, but I gotta go make sure the DJ doesn’t start the Cupid Shuffle before people get their first drink. Catch you at the reception!” She winked and floated off, already halfway in hostess mode.

Seconds later, Marcus showed up, arms folded, eyes sharp.

“So… when exactly were you planning to tell me about you and Roman?”

“Today… the same time as everybody else.” I giggled, half-joking, half-truth.

Marcus scoffed, shaking his head. “Kam, you don’t just stroll into court without opening arguments.”

I tilted my head, meeting his stare. “And you don’t reveal your strategy before trial, Marcus. You of all people should know that.”

Before Marcus could fire back, Roman’s voice cut in smooth. “Careful, man—she’s been winning cases without breaking a sweat. You sure you wanna spar with her?”

Marcus chuckled, holding his hands up. “Nah. I wouldn’t even do myself like that.

I like my ego intact and I also like getting an adequate amount of sleep at night.

Going up against this one would have me up rehearsing objections in my dreams.” The grin faded, his voice dropping into something steadier.

“But all jokes aside—Kam’s like a sister to me.

So if you’re stepping into this, treat her right man. No bullshit like that clown in there.”

Roman’s smirk curved into something firm, steady. “Trust me, with her, I’m all in. She won’t ever have to question where she stands with me—ever.”

Marcus exhaled a laugh, shaking his head. “I guess this means you’ll be sticking around after all, huh?”

Roman’s gaze shifted to me, his smirk easing into something gentler, more certain.

“Yeah… I’m not going anywhere… not from her. She’s it for me—the start, the finish, the whole damn reason I show up. Wherever Kam is… that’s home.”

Marcus’s jaw softened, the edge slipping away. “That’s love,” he said simply.

We chatted a little longer—just enough for Marcus to remind me he had my back, always—and then he left to join the others.

Seconds later, Taryn appeared, almost tentative.

Her voice cracked as she spoke, “Kamira… I just want you to know again—I didn’t know. If I had, I swear I would’ve never?—”

I lifted a hand gently, cutting her off.

“It’s okay, Taryn. I believe you. And none of this mess is yours to carry. He made those choices, not you.”

Her shoulders sagged in visible relief, but I didn’t let the moment soften too much.

I glanced at her, then smiled faintly. “Your baby girl is beautiful.”

Taryn’s lips trembled, the emotion threatening to undo her composure. “Thank you.”

“Well then,” I said, voice firm but laced with a kind of final grace, “That baby is your clean slate. Make sure you raise her like the jewel she is. That’s all that matters now.”

Taryn swallowed hard, blinking back tears. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice small but real.

“You’re welcome to stay for the reception,” I told her gently. “Eat, dance, breathe a little. You deserve to feel like more than a mistake in someone else’s story. Tonight, make it about you and that baby—you’ve got a whole future waiting on you.”

Her lips curved into a shaky smile, and she nodded again. “I think I will.”

And with that, the weight between us lifted.

No anger. No rivalry. Just two women choosing to stand taller than the lies of a man who never deserved either of us.

For some reason, I was waiting for Zaria to appear. We parted on ‘okay’ terms, and part of me expected her to resurface with one last word or glance. But instead, I got Jayla, drifting toward me with swollen eyes and breath uneven like she still thought she had something worth saying.

My smile disappeared instantly.

“Look… I know you probably hate me right now, but I swear to God, he came on to me first! I tried to tell him we couldn’t?—”

I held up my hand. “Don’t. Just… don’t. I heard enough.

You really think I give a damn about whatever twisted version of events you’re telling yourself so you can sleep at night?

You knew he was my fiancé, and you still opened your legs.

That makes you just as dirty as him—maybe worse, because you smiled in my face while you were fucking him. ”

Jayla’s mouth opened, but I kept going, stepping closer until there were only inches between us.

“You wanna play victim now? Nah. Save that for somebody who doesn’t see straight through your bullshit.

You’re not a victim, Jayla; you’re a willing participant.

I know what it costs to grow a future and not be sure about the present.

That being said, I don’t wish single motherhood on anyone—or confusion on any child.

So I’ll say this once, like a blessing and a boundary.

Take your prenatal vitamins, keep your appointments, and raise that baby with your eyes wide open and your mouth telling the truth.

Don’t you dare raise it on lies or let him or her grow up thinking deception is love.

And don’t ever use another woman’s fiancé as practice for a family.

Because the moment you do, you’ve already failed your child—before he or she even takes her first breath.

And if— when —you end up doing it alone, do it with dignity, because that’s the one thing you can still control.

But let me make something crystal clear—don’t you ever approach me, text me, call me, speak my name, look in my direction, or even breathe too close to me again.

Whatever we had? It’s dead and buried. ”

I leaned in slightly, voice dropping to a cold whisper.

“And don’t forget… I’m a lawyer. I can ruin you six different ways before breakfast and make your life hell in ways you haven’t even imagined yet. So I strongly suggest you stay far… far away from me.”

Jayla nodded vigorously and hurried off quickly.

I was still watching Jayla’s retreat when a calm, confident voice came from my right.

“Beautiful dress,” Renee complimented.

I turned, and she looked like she’d just stepped out of a photoshoot, not into the middle of a public wedding scandal.

“Thank you, and likewise! And whew, girl… thank you for showing up! Now it’s gonna look like we coordinated this!” I chuckled.

“I know right! Look, I know you’ve had a hell of a day, so I won’t keep you long,” she said, being considerate. “But… if you play this right, what happened today could make you even more popular than you already are.”

I raised a brow. “ More popular?” I echoed, intrigued.

“Yes,” she affirmed confidently. “As I mentioned, I’m a podcaster—and I run one of the top relationship podcasts in the country.

Unfiltered & Unbothered. I assume you haven’t heard of it.

We pull in millions of listeners each week, tuning in for the raw, unfiltered truths about love and life.

And off-air? I specialize in branding and scandal PR—transforming controversies like this into lucrative opportunities, wielding influence and options that most women only dream of,” Renee explained, then reached into her gold shimmering clutch and pulled out a matte black business card with her logo on one side and gold lettering on the other.

“If you want, I can help you take ownership of this narrative. Viangelo just handed you the perfect storyline, and I have the platform and audience to amplify it. We could turn this situation into a goldmine and get rich off this nigga together.”

I let out a low, disbelieving laugh, my skepticism bubbling to the surface. “You’re serious?”

“ Dead serious,” she insisted. “You’ve got the face, the poise, and the whole country’s going to be searching your name before the cake’s even cut. I say we make sure they find exactly what you want them to see.”

She took a step back, giving me a knowing look. “We both survived him. That makes us sisters in survival. If you ever wanna get even—call me. Just think about it. Gorgeous wedding, by the way… shame about the groom.”

With that, Renee turned and walked off, heels clicking like exclamation points.

I turned back toward Roman, still holding the card in my hand like a trophy.

He tilted his head, looking me up and down like I was dessert. “We leaving or what, baby?”

I laughed, low and incredulously. “Leaving? Oh, hell no! I paid way too much money for this fake-ass fairy tale of a wedding to just walk out! I’m about to eat, drink, and dance all over you until my feet hurt and your shirt’s sticking to your back!”

Roman smirked. “You’re not worried about what people might think? Not that I give a damn.”

“Nope! I’ve wasted too much of my life trying to please people who didn’t deserve it. From here on out, I’m living exactly how I want, with who I want, and doing whatever the hell I want! And right now is to watch you stand there looking fine while I run this reception like it’s my coronation.”

Roman’s grin turned mannish. “Careful with that talk, baby. You keep telling me what you want, I’m liable to drag you into the coat closet and fuck you until you forget what song’s playing.”

“I guess I’d better pace myself then, huh?” I teased, sliding my arm through his.

“Guess you better,” he replied, leading me forward as though we just arrived to our own afterparty.

The two of us walked in the room together, ignoring the stares, the whispers, and the wreckage we’d left behind—ready to turn what was supposed to be a wedding into a celebration on our own terms.