epilogue.
jasmine.
Everything was going wrong.
And when I say everything, I literally mean every damn thing possible.
The wedding cake got dropped on the way into the facility, my dress - which was actually my back-up dress because the first one didn’t fit anymore - was now covered in Baby Rich’s throw-up, and the power had went out thanks to the once in a lifetime storm that decided to show up.
Tony! Toni! Toné! were so wrong about it never raining in Southern California.
After kicking everybody out, even my damn son, I could finally let out the cry I had been holding in for weeks. Life had gotten hard...like indescribably hard and I had pretty much exhausted all of my options for refuge except this one.
An ugly cry.
One that would surely ruin my make-up and maybe even my hair if I swiped the tears and snot hard enough. I was bracing myself for the release when there was a knock on the door.
“Jasmine? You alright in there? I know I’m not supposed to see you ‘til the wedding but I need to know you’re okay.”
“Well I’m not,” I yelled back, as I walked towards the door to make sure he could hear me on the other side.
“What’s wrong now, Jasmine?”
“Everything, Rich. This is stupid. We can’t get married. We don’t have to do this. Not today. Not ever. I’ll still love you.”
He let out a sigh before replying, “Jasmine, we’re doing this. The circumstances may not be ideal but have we ever really worked that way? Shit, if you ask me, the circumstances are perfect because they’re so...us.”
“Cloudy, dark, rainy, destroyed...oh yeah, that sounds just like us.”
“No, Jasmine. Different, crazy, unorthodox, unconventional. That’s how we’ve always rolled. And besides, rain on your wedding day is good luck. Represents a cleanse, a fresh start; exactly what we need. I mean...before I met you, I had purpose, I had direction. But you...and my son, have given that shit a whole new meaning. I’m in love with you, Jasmine. And I refuse to live life without you as my wife.” There was a long pause, as if he was waiting for me to respond. But since I was at a loss for words, he continued on, “I guess what I’m trying to say is...wipe your pretty little face, drink some wine or something, and get ready because this is happening whether you like it or not.”
“Arrogant much?”
“You love that shit. That’s how I got you in the first place.”
True.
And I’d be damned if that night wasn’t still etched into my brain. But now, unlike with my usual flings, there were more memories to add to our collection; things far more important than sex.
I had found love.
Like legitimate, storybook love.
And even if it wasn’t perfect, it was perfectly crafted for me.
My unconventional love.
The End
Enjoyed this book? Wanna talk about it? Find me on Facebook, on Twitter/Instagram (@mspiedoubleu) or shoot me an email at [email protected] !
Ready for my next release? Check out thebookwormlodge.com/alexandras-author-page for updates!
And if you feel inclined to do so, please leave a review!
(I hope you do lol)
An Unconventional Love: A Novella Page 12