Aisha’s face turned cold.
She pulled off her ring, dropped it at Jason’s feet, and made announcement to the guests there would be no wedding but the reception would go on as her “freedom party.”
Then, as we sipped champagne by the window, Aisha thanked me. “You saved me,” she said.
I said to her that she deserved better than someone who’d mark himself with another woman’s name on the eve of their wedding.
By the end of the night, Jason was gone, Cleo had stormed out, and Aisha was barefoot on the dance floor, laughing.
While the marriage never happened, the celebration? That was unforgettable.
