Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Asoft chuckle escaped me as I paused from reading Washington’s letter. Zuri had placed it into my hands after she adjusted my wedding veil, and Phoenix had finished transforming my baby hairs into angel wings. They’d left me in the church’s empty choir room to join the bridal procession. My eyes returned to the letter and his familiar handwriting.
But in my defense, Madison, I’m confident that faith without work is not faith at all. So, I stressed over that contract night and day for a week. Damn, I’m going to be honest. I slaved over every contingency for two whole weeks. All of that was me stepping out on faith. Big stepping out, since I hadn’t slept well since putting everything in order. But enough of that.
You came into my life again right when we needed each other most. Right before parents who have gone through the unthinkable, losing a child, would have to live through that specific day over again. March first.
If I could’ve taken all the pain you went through on me, I would’ve. Still, I know that adversity molds the heart that’s broken down, cracked open, ugly as hell. (Chère, this ugly part was all you, bébé. Your heart was ugly as hell for a while.)
“Oh no, he didn’t.” I settled down on a chair next to a neat stack of royal purple praise dance flags. My glittering, elated eyes lifted toward the ceiling. “Lord, this man done called me ugly? And You want me to marry him again?”
In that precise moment, my attention landed on the word heart. Washington said my heart was ugly, and humility made me agree. My palm pressed against my chest, where a newfound fullness replaced the emptiness. Still though? After my saltiness, he could’ve quit. He could’ve given up on me. Instead, my husband relentlessly chased me down with overwhelming love.
My eyes went glossy, but I didn’t dare let a tear fall after all of Phoenix’s Picasso magic with peacock eyeshadows. Instead, I sniffed and kept reading.
I knew, though, that behind the multitude of scars needing attention lay a truly magnificent heart. My wife’s heart. I’ve had peace these past few months with you in my life, regardless of what we had to work through or what we were up against, such as Shonda’s contract that I wanted no parts of. We fought that art demon, Omari Harris, together. Now, we are righting one last wrong. I’m marrying a strong, gorgeous Black woman. Madison, you were magnificently beautiful when giving one last push during labor, glowy, sweaty, and absolutely gorgeous. Your last ounce of strength allowed us to meet our baby. And you are FINE with a bat in your hand.
A vision formed in my mind, and I chuckled. Washington had asked me in the police interrogation room if I’d vandalized his car. My salty little ass had said, Fine ain’t she?
“Yeah, I’m fine. Too fine.” I toed the Swarovski crystal heels nearby, but I had a few lines left to read before putting them on.
You’re strong, wielding and conquering the pits of hell.
And you’re one piece of the three-strand cord that will always hold us together. Madison, it is my honor to call you wife again, chère. And it’s even more of a privilege to do so while claiming my bride again on our day … June 12th.
With love,
Wash
I wanted to run to Washington right now. This precise second. Butterflies took flight in my chest, but I told myself not to rush it. As I refolded the letter, I murmured, “Well, Momma Virginia, you’re finally getting that church wedding.”
This was her church, a beautiful church. And she’d been waiting my entire married life for this moment. Though I doubted she’d wanted us to have an actual do-over, she’d suggested a vowel renewal here on our tenth anniversary.
As I slipped my feet into the show-stopping Jimmy Choos, a contented sigh escaped me. Yes, I would always love designer heels. I also wore a gown from one of the most premier wedding boutiques in New Orleans, but not the most expensive one. In fact, this silk sheath was part of a line called Simple Creation. But I didn’t give a damn if people said Mood Swing Maddy paired so-and-so with Wally World. I wasn’t trying to be like Omari’s clients anymore.
Ugh. Omari Riche. Omari Harris, or whoever he was. Who knew the FBI had an ART team? I wished I had a Fed friend because two of them interrogated me at length after our run-in last month. And one of them was a sistah! Washington held my hand and did most of the talking. But sis had the nerve to glance at me sideways when I explained my way out of the illegal production of Philippe’s artwork that wasn’t technically illegal since I was told all parties knew they were receiving dupes. Reproductions.