Page 57 of Before I Say I Don't
“Angelo has a two-month-old child,” he divulged cautiously.
The breath left me like I’d been hit in the sternum.
I fixed my gaze on him, then shifted it away to the sprawling cityscape outside the window, and finally to the barely touched meal on my plate—anywhere but at the harsh reality sitting between us.
“W-What do you mean by that?” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.
Roman leaned in slightly; a somber expression etched on his face. “There’s more,” he confessed, “There have been other women.”
My lips parted in shock, then snapped shut as the weight of his words sank in.
“H-He actually admitted that to you?” I managed to ask, disbelief flooding my mind.
“Yeah.”
He hesitated, then set his phone by my plate, face down. “I need your permission for this next part.”
“Permission for what?” I asked in confusion.
Roman took a deep breath, the corners of his mouth tightening slightly as he spoke.
“I recorded our conversation,” he admitted, his tone calm yet transparent. “It’s off the record and compliant with one-party consent laws. He doesn’t know. I didn’t do it to be messy; I did it so you’d never have to wonder if I made this up to get close to you. You can walk out of here tonight and never call me again, and you’ll still have his words captured as proof.”
My heart hammered so loud I could hear it. “Play it.”
“Kam—”
“Play it,” I insisted, my voice strained and tense as I clenched my teeth.
Roman turned the phone over, tapped it, and turned the volume just high enough. Viangelo’s voice filled Roman’s perfect kitchen, sounding small and real in a way texts never do.
“I haven’t been completely faithful in my relationship with Kam.”
“How unfaithful are we talkin’?”
“A couple of side bitches. But… I fucked around and got one of ’em pregnant. I have a two month old daughter,” he confessed.
Roman paused the clip, his thumb poised over the play button. I gripped the napkin so tightly that it almost felt like it was struggling for its own survival.
“Do you want me to keep going?”
My heart raced as I looked at him, and a single nod was all I could muster, tears welling in my eyes, threatening to break free at any moment.
He pressed play, but fast-forwarded a bit.
“You love her, but you got a whole kid she don’t know about. That ain’t love, Angelo. That’s lying with better clothes on.”
“That was a one-night thing. I didn’t even know she was pregnant ‘til she hit me after the baby was born. We did the test. She’s mine. I send money, but I don’t know how to tell Kamira without it blowing everything up.”
“Stop! I heard enough!”
Roman stopped it. The quiet afterward roared.
“How—” I started, then couldn’t. My whole body shook, rage and relief fighting for space. “How could he do this to me?” The words tore out of me, raw and ugly. “I gave him everything! I paid for everything! I believed. I—I?—”
My throat gave up, and the tears came hard and shameless.
Roman was around the table before the chair could scrape, arms open. “Come here.”
