Epilogue
With the help of a professional bridesmaid (did you know there was such a thing?), I planned a beautiful wedding to the man of my dreams. Upon realizing I actually did love Tyrell, my parents came around, and my father walked me down the aisle. But I would no longer be under their thumb or dipping into their bank accounts.
Sabra had come back from her stint as a reality star and was suddenly a changed person. She agreed to letting Tyrell and me have primary custody without having to go to court. She would be going back and forth from Savannah to Atlanta, where she was trying to make it as an actress—or, at the very least, trying to get on more reality shows. It sounded right up her alley, and we got to keep the girls at least three weeks out of every month, so I was thrilled.
In fact, Sabra had apparently done her homework on Gloss Enterprises and my family. After realizing how much they were worth, she wholeheartedly blessed our relationship. I can only imagine she thought it would somehow boost her own status in the world.
When I walked down the aisle to become Mrs. Harris, I thought life couldn’t get any better. I had the man of my dreams; I had two beautiful daughters, who had started calling me Mashy (get it? A mix of Mom and Ashley), and I lived in the most beautiful city in the world.