Page 92 of Before I Say I Don't
Danica’s voice dropped to a murmur, pitched only for me. “Glide, baby sis. Remember, this is your moment. Make the floor jealous that it gets to hold you.”
The words unlocked something in me. I breathed deeper, stepped lighter, shoulders unfurling as if the music carried me.
And somewhere off to the side, I could feel Roman’s gaze following me like a magnet, warming my skin even through layers of fabric.
When I reached the end of the aisle, Danica wiped at her eyes in an exaggerated motion, pretending to dab an invisible tear, before snapping back into boss mode with a clap.
“Alright! Reset, people! Let’s try it again without the drama!”
Groans rolled across the room, but they all fell back into line.
Kendall and Jayla overperformed serenity. The way they linked arms with their partners looked rehearsed, and every shared glance between them screamedwe’re so unbothered.
When the run-through ended, Danica lowered her headset and muttered, “Okay, that’s a wrap!” Then she clapped twice, loud enough to snap spines straight. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you shut a rehearsal down! Tomorrow is the big day—so remember to hydrate, moisturize, and be on time! And please, for the love of God, don’t show up with ashy knuckles or hungover breath! Now, before you escape, I want to share that as a token of appreciation from Kam and Angelo, they decided to host a rehearsal dinner. So… dinner is on them. Enjoy!”
The doors opened to the private dining room next door, and the wedding party quickly rushed inside. The food was pure soul food: cast-iron skillets of bubbling golden macaroni, trays of steaming fried chicken, seasoned collard greens, and cornbread squares stacked like bricks of gold. Servers also passed around deviled eggs and fried green tomatoes on trays, while champagne corks popped in the background.
Viangelo slid an arm around my waist as though to claim me and guided me toward Roman like he was presenting a trophy.
“My guy,” he grinned, pulling Roman in for a brotherly hug. “This is my beautiful fiancée, but y’all already know each other from college, so there ain’t much to introduce.”
Roman’s mouth tipped at the corner. “Not much at all.”
“Nope!” I replied, my smile a little too bright and forced.
“It’s nice to see you again, Kam,” Roman said.
“Likewise. I’m glad you could make it down for the wedding.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t have missed it fornothing.”
Roman’s tone was easy, casual on the surface—but his eyes told another story. They lingered on me a second too long, heavyenough to make my pulse skip. Then, like a gentleman, he broke eye contact first, smoothing it over with words.
“The way it’s looking, it will be one for the books.”
“Yes, indeed,” I agreed, sporting a mischievous grin, one I didn’t bother hiding.
Roman and Viangelo chatted for a few minutes, then, almost as quickly, Viangelo hooked an arm around my elbow and tugged me into a corner, his smile stiff.
“Howcoolwere y’all back then?” he asked, with raised brows.
“Excuse me?” My eyes narrowed. “Are you insinuating that we’ve messed around or dated?”
“Nah, nah,” he backpedaled instantly, palms lifting in surrender. “I’m trippin’. That’s my boy. He’d tell me. Shit,you’dtell me.”
“Exactly!” I pivoted on my heel, walked the fuck off, and slid into my seat with him plopping down next to me a few breaths later, looking stupid as hell.
Honestly? He wasn’t wrong about his suspicions. If Viangelo knew the kind of dick I’d been getting since the day of my bridal shower.—the kind of relief Roman had been giving me, the way he handled me without hesitation—he’d choke on that fake smile he was forcing in front of everybody.
I pressed my lips to my glass, letting the rim hide the smirk threatening to break free.
Some truths were too good and dangerous to say out loud.
At the head of the room, Diane tapped a glass. “A toast—to love, to family, to my son who?—”
“—Keep it short,” Danica politely inserted. “Some people want to eat and leave.”
A few chuckles bubbled down the table.
