Page 117 of Before I Say I Don't
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 versionof 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 withdignity,because that’s the one thing you can still control. But let me make something crystal clear—don’t youeverapproach me, text me, call me, speak my name, look in my direction, or even breathe too close to me again. Whatever we had? It’sdead 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 likewecoordinated 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 todaycouldmake you even more popular than you already are.”
I raised a brow. “Morepopular?” 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.Viangelojust 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?”
