Khiya’s Epilogue
My life had changed so drastically in a year, and I loved every single moment of it. When Sylas suggested we get married on Valentine’s Day to commemorate the day we met, I thought it was a wonderful idea.
The planning was going smoothly until I got sick at the beginning of July. I was down for several days and either forgot to take my birth control pills, or they came up with my vomit. By the end of August, I was sick again, but this time, it was because I was pregnant.
The last thing I wanted to do was waddle down the aisle, so I decided to change our wedding date to my birthday. It took some convincing, but Sylas eventually agreed.
I didn’t want to reveal my pregnancy until today, and by the grace of God, I was able to keep the pregnancy hidden from everyone.
It was probably one of the hardest things I’d ever done, especially pretending to have my period so that Sylas wouldn’t get suspicious, and I was glad my secret would be revealed today.
Our wedding party was small, and the guest list was intimate. Of course, Mena was my maid of honor, and Yandy, who gave birth to my precious niece a month ago, and Taylor, whose handsome baby boy had just turned three months old, were my bridesmaids.
“Can everyone gather around? I have some news to share.”
My mother, Mama Rita, and my wedding party circled around me with anticipation.
“Don’t say anything until I’m done, okay?
” They nodded. “I’ve been keeping a couple of secrets, and they’re both very exciting.
A few months ago, I was reading, and Sylas asked me to read to him.
He enjoyed it so much and started asking all the time.
I didn’t think anything of it because the man is obsessed with my voice and could listen to me go on and on about nothing all day.
Well, unbeknownst to me, he recorded me and sent it to a company looking for narrators.
Guess what? I got a job narrating Black romance books. ”
“Oh wow! That’s amazing!”
“That’s dope, sis.”
“I’m not surprised. Your voice is beautiful.”
Everyone had something positive to say, which had me beaming with pride.
“Thank you. The night we met, Sylas asked me to share something I’d never told anyone else. I told him I’d thought about trying to be a narrator or voiceover actress but never followed through. He remembered that and made it happen. I am so in love with that man and the way he loves me.”
“That’s my son she’s talking about. I raised him right,” Mama Rita said.
“And did,” the rest of us said simultaneously.
“What’s the other news?” my mother asked.
“Well . . . I’m twelve weeks pregnant.”
Excited cheers filled the room, and they wrapped me in the warmest hug. It was a very emotional moment, but I had to remind everyone not to ruin their makeup with tears. There was a knock on the door, and it was the wedding coordinator.
“Okay, Khiya. It’s time.”
The minutes flew by and dragged at the same time when the ladies left, and I waited for my father to enter the room. He gasped, and his eyes filled with tears when he saw me.
“Baby girl. You are so beautiful.”
“Thank you, Daddy.”
“I can’t believe my princess is getting married and having a baby. You’re trying to break me all the way down today, huh?”
I smiled, holding back tears.
“No, Daddy. Are you happy?”
“Baby girl, I’m happy, excited, and proud. Sylas is a good man, and I’m honored to pass the baton to him. I know he’ll take care of you and my grandbaby. Let’s get you married.”
We left the room and waited outside the doors of the banquet hall. When the coordinator received the signal in her headphones, she and her assistant pulled the doors open. I looked inside the banquet room, my eyes immediately searching for Sylas.
When our eyes connected, I was overwhelmed with emotion. Not once, as my father escorted me down the aisle, did Sylas and I look away from each other. I didn’t see anyone but him, and the music and voices were muffled in my ears until the pastor spoke.
“Who gives this woman to this man?” the pastor asked.
“I do,” my father said with pride.
He lifted my veil, kissed my cheek, and left to stand beside my mother. When Sylas took my father’s place, he didn’t stand next to me, he pulled me into his arms.
“Baby, you’re having my baby. I love you so fucking much.”
When he cupped my face and kissed my lips, nothing else mattered from that point on. We eventually moved on with the ceremony, made it through the reception, and ended our night in the honeymoon suite.
Sylas had the room decorated and gifts strategically placed throughout. This man’s love for me knew no bounds, and I loved every second of being loved by him.
“Oh my God, Sylas. You’re such a sweetheart.” I cooed as I opened one of the many gifts.
“Only for you, beautiful. Only for you.”
THE END