Page 84 of Before I Say I Don't
Danica tossed the phone onto the couch. “I want to fight! And by ‘fight’ I mean Jaylafirst! I should’ve known she’s always been stunt-double supportive! Smiles in your face with a ‘congrats’ and a plate!”
I swallowed. “My best friend, though?” The words hurt coming out. “Damn. She hates me? Why?”
Danica’s expression softened momentarily… then the savage came back.
“Wipe those tears, sis! Thatbitchisn’t your friend… probably never was! Proximity is not loyalty, and attendance is not love. People like that will clap for your soft launch and boo your boundaries.”
My eyes burned anyway. “I just—I want to call the wedding off. I’m over this… all of it.”
“The hellyou will!” she snapped, moving closer. “And not because of the money… but principle!That nigga and those bitches gotta pay! You think we’re handing out unearned grace after they sat up in here eating croissants and text-bashing you from the patio? Absolutely not!”
I stared at the ceiling so tears wouldn’t fall. “Danica?—”
“Kam,no!” she interrupted, pointing at the floor, “Now, a week ago, I would’ve done cartwheels if you said it’s off! Not today! Today we stick to the plan and hit ‘em where it hurts—in public, with the truth, under good lighting. You don’t run; you reveal!”
Silence pressed between us, thick as frosting. Then she dropped onto the cushion beside me and pulled me into a hug so tight my ribs remembered safety.
“I love you,” she whispered into my hair. “It hurts… I know. Let it. But don’t bleed where they can drink it. You gon’ win this, sis. You hear me? Your character is gonna cash out on their bullshit!”
My phone lit up.
It was a text from Roman.
I smiled before I could stop myself, and of course, Danica caught it instantly.
“Who’s thaaaaaaat?” she sang, eyes narrowing with glee.
Before I could stop her, she snatched up my phone, read the preview—Howis everything going? You need me to pull up? Lol—then handed the phone to me with a grin.
I could feel Danica’s eyes on me the entire timeI texted him back.
Me: Hey. Let’s just say, bitches ain’t shit these days. Ugh!
Roman: Damn. I was half-joking. But for real… you need me?
I let my finger rest above the keyboard, but I didn’t answer right away. My pulse drummed quick in my wrist.
I glanced over, and sure enough, Danica was already watching me with her chin balanced on her hand, eyes sparkling like she was about to burst out laughing, and a grin creeping wider with every second I stayed quiet.
She didn’t even wait for me to speak.
“Sis, I’ma need you to go to that man’s house and fuck him…realgood,” Danica ordered, perfectly casual, like she was assigning chores.
“Danica!” I choked-laughed, half scandalized, half tempted. “I?—”
“I said what I said.” She held up a manicured finger like a judge calling order. “You have been a saint, a sponsor, and a social worker in this relationship! Call meDr. Good Sense, because I’m prescribing vitamin D… theRomankind.”
“Girl!” I tried to keep a straight face, but my laugh slipped anyway.
“I’m serious,” she pressed, biting back her own smile. “Go let agentlemanremind you you’re a woman, not a bank slash wedding coordinator with a pulse. Fuck Angelo’s feelings! He’sbeen on a world tour with his DMs for God knows how long! Go have a little fun of your own.”
“But I’d be no better than Angelo if I do that.” My voice was soft, conflicted.
“Trust me, sis, you’rewaybetter than him.” Danica leaned in, counting off on her fingers. “One: You’re not married. Two: You don’t owe Angelo abstinence while he’s out here auditioning for father-of-the-year on the weekends. Three: Even if you don’t have sex with Roman, go sit in a room where you’re adored. Let your nervous system remember whatcalmfeels like.”
Her words sank deep, daring me to admit out loud what my body already knew: the thought of Roman felt more like peace than sin.
I exhaled long. “I hear you.”
