Page 83 of Before I Say I Don't
Timestamps. Names.The pettiness in full, uncensored color.
Every single word was scorched into my memory.
I locked Kendall’s phone and placed it back in its original spot.
My smile was gone now, replaced by an icy stillness.
The urge to pee again returned, and that time I felt like I’d be releasing more than urine. It was anger, shame and heartbreak, all draining out of me in shaky waves. I sat there longer than necessary, breathing hard, trying to stitch myself back together, but the truth was, no amount of tissue or flush could clear the mess I felt inside.
After I composed myself, I returned outside, and the laughter and chatter from the other women grated on my nerves.
I pressed a hand to my stomach.
“Y’all, I’m not feeling too good,” I fibbed, though my voice carried a tension no one could quite miss—especially Danica, who caught sight of it and immediately noticed the change in my expression.
“I think we’re gonna have to cut the rest of this evening short.”
“Aww, what’s wrong?”and“You okay?”came from Serene and Lena. Diane blinked once… twice… , like she was trying to read beneath my words, trying to decide if this was a headache, a stomach ache or something else entirely. Kendall raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Jayla just sipped her water, nonchalantly.
Danica moved before anyone else could. She got up from her seat and leaned in close, her perfume a sharp burst of jasmine wrapping around me.
“What’s wrong?” she questioned, studying my face like she already knew the answer was ugly.
My lips curved into a smile so faint it was almost dangerous.
“I’ll tell you in a minute,” I murmured back, tone laced with something darker than anger.
She gave a slow, knowing nod, slipping an arm around my shoulder in a casual way so no one could see the tension in her grip.
“Alright, ladies,” Danica addressed, “grab your to-go plates. Party’s over.”
Kendall began glancing around wildly.
“Y’all seen my phone?” she asked.
“Oh, I think you left it in the kitchen… right by the island,” I said, my tone light, almost helpful. “You might wanna grab it before somebody sees something they shouldn’t.”
Kendall’s eyes flickered—wide for just a fraction of a second—before she forced a smirk. But that split-second reaction told me everything I needed to know.
I didn’t even bother to look at Kendall or Jayla again; I had all the evidence I needed—and in my mind, the clock to the perfectpublicrevenge was already ticking.
The patio looked like a party had exhaled too hard—tissue paper spilling from gift bags, champagne glasses abandoned mid-sip, and ribbons tangled at chair legs.
“Alright,” Danica said, after the last person left, heels planted and hands on her hips. “What thefuckhappened?”
I didn’t answer; I just flopped onto the couch and shoved my phone at her with the messages open. My hand shook once, but I made it stop.
Danica grabbed the phone, eyes scanning. Her brows climbed, then knitted.
“Hold up… are these texts between Jayla and Kendall?”
“Yes,” I confirmed.
“How did?—”
I proceeded to tell her about my discovery.
When I finished, Danica’s mouth pressed into a hard line. “So these bitches been texting each other like besties when they won’t even say boo in your presence! Then they had the audacity to bringmyname up in the mix!” She looked up, eyes gone flinty. “And Jayla said—” Danica stopped herself, jaw flexing. “Nah. No. I’m not repeating that raggedy energy out loud.”
