Page 316 of When a Soul Cries

“I didn't plan this.”

“Clearly!”

Then I looked at him.

Really looked at him.

My first baby.

The child who came into my life through the worst thing that had ever happened to me and somehow became one of the greatest loves I'd ever known.

And now he was about to become somebody's husband.

My eyes filled again.

Rome's whole face softened. “Aw, Ma.”

“Don't ‘Aw, Ma’ me.”

He smiled and opened his arms.

I walked right into them.

He hugged me tightly, and I held my son for a second longer than usual.

When I pulled back, I pointed at him. “You better be good to that girl.”

His expression turned serious. “I will.”

“And that baby.”

“You already know.”

“I do.”

I wiped my eyes and immediately started fussing again. “Now where the hell is this pastor Khalil supposedly found? And don't tell me we standing around here all day because I already almost died getting here.”

Rome laughed.

And just like that, I knew we were ready.

My son was getting married.

I was getting married.

Every time I said it in my head, my stomach flipped all over again.

Not butterflies either. This felt like my entire stomach had packed its shit and decided to relocate somewhere underneath my ribs.

I stood in front of the bedroom mirror staring at a woman I barely recognized.

Me.

Soleia Monroe.

In a wedding dress.

About to marry Roman Devereaux.