Page 49 of Rich Forever: Zo & Remy

We were doing all the photosbeforethe ceremony because, per mafia rules, no cameras were allowed during the actual event. I used to think the rule was overdramatic until I was told that many of the men attending were ghosts in the regular world. Their names held years of legacy. But they were only to be spoken about and not seen.

But I wasn’t letting that stop me. Not today. If they didn’t know by now, I was the mafia’s rebel child, and mayhem was my love language. So, I was going to document every single minute up to that ceremony. It was my first wedding. Something for my children to look back on when our stories get old and the memories from the day start to fade.

A soft rap hit the door. My mom opened it, and in walked Taylor, big and pregnant. She was glowing and eating beef jerky like it was steak. She waddled through the door with the photographer behind her.

As soon as she reached me, I put my hand on her belly. My niece kicked against my palm, as if to let me know she felt my touch. I pouted as she did it. I couldn’t wait for her to come so I could have another set of little toes to smell.

“Come on, big Mama,” I joked, looping my arm in hers as we all headed into the bridal suite.

While the photographers set up the lights, Taylor pulled me aside.

“Bitch, did you marry the Bajan Big Meech?” she hissed in my ear.

I snorted. “Tay, why are you asking me that?”

“Girl, there are people lined up all down the street! Hollow is working overtime trying to figure out who actually passedclearance.” She laughed, but her eyes were wide, like she had witnessed something unheard of.

Taylor had never been here with us before. She knew Zo’s family was prominent. But she had never seen how the island reacted to the Richardsons. Barbados loved them. Five hundred invited guests and hundreds more trying to slip inside, like we were hosting Carnival, proved that.

“Something like that,” I mumbled as the photographers said they were ready.

We were behind schedule, so time was tight. We jumped right into the pictures. For 30 minutes, we snapped everything together as a group and me alone.

Mid-shoot, Taylor glanced at her phone, then rushed over to me.

“It’s time for me to head down. I love you. You’re so beautiful, and you make me proud to be your little sister.” She kissed my cheek. A single tear slid out before I could stop it.I wasn’t emotional, and neither was she. It caught me off guard and made me sink into the moment.

My mother dabbed my face again and held my hand as we all walked toward the door where my coordinators stood like two guards. Downstairs, the noise hit me before the view did. The wedding had officially begun. From my place, I peeked through the door like Ziggy when he was sneaking downstairs to get a snack at night.

The music started, and the whole place erupted.

Zohan had changed his entrance song. He walked out to“Welcome to Jamrock.”

His entire Bajan family turned up like it was the afterparty, not the actual ceremony. People were waving pocket squares, shouting “yeah man,” and singing along to the song. Judah had his pocket square out too, making Trouble give him the coldest stare.

I shook my head and laughed; I could already tell how the rest of the night was going to go. When he had told me he wanted a “Top Shotta” themed wedding, I told him to go to sleep.

The wedding party was big. It was a mafia royalty meets Caribbean royalty line-up. All our children walked except baby Jace, of course. The boys were mini groomsmen. The girls were flower girls. Our two oldest were ring bearers. All the JMF wives and husbands walked.Taylor was my maid of honor, and Kennedy was my matron of honor. And Zo’s brother, Xion, was the best man.

The song faded. The noise died down. My heart tapped faster.

Then my song came on.

Suddenly, it felt like the moment got serious. I felt like I was the Debbie Downer at my own wedding. My mother stepped beside me, my mother who couldblow, and started singing Chrisette Michele’s “A Couple of Forevers.” She exited the door and sang down the aisle as she went to take her place. Chills ran up my spine, and it felt like time had frozen.

I stepped into the hallway, and my father pulled me into the biggest hug and kissed my forehead.

The door opened, and my husband came into view. Just thinking about Zo made my heart smile in a way it had never done before. The way he’d loved me over the last seven years…The softness he carried for me only, his patience, the way he corrected me with love. He never felt like he had to raise his voice or his hand to ever get his point across.I lusted after Zo, but I fell in love with Zohan.

People rose, and my breath caught when I saw him at the altar.

Zo’s nerves were all over the place, which wasn’t normal for him. I watched him shift from one foot to the other, jaw clenched. Then, as he pulled out his pocket square and wiped his eye, I realized he was fighting tears of his own. My own spilled faster.

I reached him, and he just stared at me like he’d been starving for years and finally got fed.

“You look handsome,” I whispered.

“You’re beautiful, baby.” He touched my cheek, using the same pocket square he’d just cried into, and for some reason, that made me love him even more.