Page 101 of Before I Say I Don't
Her smile was wide, yet it felt like it was stretched too tight, as if she were more focused on her own image than on mine.
I offered a polite smile. “Thank you, Diane. I appreciate that.”
Diane carried on for another minute or so about how everything looked perfect and how she was just so proud. Danica sat in the corner, unusually quiet, sipping her coffee and keeping her eyes on her phone. We both knew therealshow was coming later, and nothing Diane said right then mattered.
Finally, Diane patted my arm, told me she’d see me in a bit, and left. The door clicked shut, and it was like the air shifted.
“I thought she’d never leave!” Danica exclaimed, her voice a mixture of relief and excitement as she clapped her hands together with a flourish. “Now let’s get you in this dress!”
Fifteen minutes later, I stood before the full-length mirror, the fabric swirling around my legs like a gentle breeze. The dress hugged my waist and flared out elegantly at the bottom, sparkling subtly under the soft glow of the overhead lights.
Danica stepped back slowly, one hand pressed to her chest, her expression shifting from eagerness to sheer awe.
Her mouth dropped open slightly, eyes softening in a surprising way that made me do a double take. That was uncharacteristic for Danica; she typically wore her emotions like armor, rarely letting anyone see past her playful banter.
“Sisssssssss,” she whispered, circling me like I was a masterpiece on display. “You look… I don’t even have the words. You don’t look like a bride; you look like the definition of redemption walking down the aisle.”
I smirked nervously, smoothing the front of the gown. “You think so?”
Danica’s lip lifted, a sad little smile tugging at the edge. “Think so? Girl, Iknowso. Honestly…” she shook her head, blinking away whatever had her misty for a second. “I wish you could’ve saved this look for when you andRomanget married. Because this right here?” She gestured up and down, voice catching slightly. “This right here is how a woman’s supposed to look when she’s standing next to a man who actually deserves her. Angelo isn’t worthy of this glow-up.”
“Not at all, sis,” I agreed softly. “I wish Mom was here.”
My chest tightened, the weight of it dragging my smile down. Then I exhaled, bitter honesty cutting through.
“But then again… I don’t. Because nothing about this wedding is real.”
“Facts!” Danica said. “And you know if Mama was still here, she wouldn’t have let you even get close to that aisle. She’d have grabbed you by the arm, cussed Angelo out in front of both sides of the family and marched you straight out the door. Hell, she probably would’ve ripped the ring off your finger herself and sent his mama the bill for her time and gas money. Yeah, she’d never let us play dress-up in a lie… not her daughters.”
I laughed, but it wobbled at the edges. Because it was true. Mama would’ve never let me doubt myself this long. She hadthat way of protecting me—even from myself—and somehow making it funny while she did it.
Before I could stop it, tears slipped free, tracking down my cheeks.
Danica’s smirk softened into something warmer. Then she reached up and brushed my tears away before they could ruin the makeup.
“So I’m here. And I’ll be Mama and me rolled in one today if I have to. I got you, sis. You ready for this?” she asked, her voice laced with an undercurrent of anticipation.
I swallowed hard, trying to steady my nerves, then nodded firmly. “Yeah. I’m ready.”
Danica reached for my hand, her grip strong and reassuring, grounding me in the moment without needing to say another word. We bowed our heads together, the weight of the world momentarily lifting as we prepared to embrace what lay ahead. She began to pray, her voice ringing out with conviction, a melody of hope and strength. My voice joined hers, shaky at first like the flutter of a new leaf in the wind, but as she spoke life and power into me, I felt my own conviction rise, my words growing clearer and more resolute as we poured our hearts into the moment.
When we saidAmentogether, she squeezed my hand and grinned.
“Alright, baby sis… it’s showtime.”
And just like that, I knew whatever happened that day, I wasn’t walking into it alone.
I stood at the heavy double doors, veil trembling with the faintest draft and my bouquet gripped tighter than I meant to.For a moment, everything on the other side was nothing but muffled whispers and the distant hum of the song waiting to rise. My heart thudded against the lace bodice like it was trying to escape before I did.
Then the doors swung open.
Two hundred bodies held their breath at once—my partners from the firm in one block, Viangelo’s coworkers in another, and a lattice of aunties, uncles, cousins, play-cousins, and church folks stitched between. Their eyes widened, their spines straightened, the collective silence pulling taut like a bowstring as I stood framed in the doorway.
My smile began to blossom even before the music graced the air. The first gentle notes ofWhy I Love Youfloated upwards, soft and reassuring, wrapping the room in a comforting embrace. As the melody filled the space, the surroundings transformed into a warm tunnel of familiar faces, each one flickering under the soft glow of slow camera flashes. I took a step forward, and the exquisite dress held me the way I always imagined it would, walking down the aisle on my wedding day. People likely assumed I was smiling because the song was sweet, or because I was about to marry the love of my life.
They had no idea.
I walked down the aisle with the grace of a woman who knew a few people in that room were about to choke on their own secrets.
