Whenever I find someone who's in need of healing, never do I hesitate to answer the call. But what happens when the lines of love are intertwined with morals and profession?
Who heals the healer?
*The use of photos or gifs do not belong to the writ...
Saturday, August 12, 2006 Punta Cana, Dominican Republic
Mia's POV
1 p.m.
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"Alright!" Brooke called out to the party of five. "Ladies, as the maid of honor, I'd like to propose a toast on this marvelous day, for the bride to be of course."
Naudia smirked as she held out her glass to be filled. "Yeah, too bad the bride can't toast with us."
"Oh rub it in will you?" My hand rested on my bump. "Mini me and I will be just fine with our apple juice."
Almost five months, I was feeling great. Thriving in numerous ways, the slew of symptoms from the first trimester that plagued me finally vanished. I was healthy, happy, and more energetic than ever, (shout out to my sex drive for coming back.)
Brooke filled her glass last.
"Mia, I just want to say thank you for allowing us to be apart of such an important day for you. I know that I can speak for all of us and say that we are honored to be able to witness the start of this new journey. So from us all, we love you and let's get the festivities started yes? Cheers!"
**
Prince's POV 1:30 p.m.
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"Center or side part?" Kim my hair stylist asked as she trimmed away my ends.
"The side. Kim, where's the gel?"
Queen Helene's Hair Gel, a staple and all time favorite.
Smiling, she fumbled through her bag. "I must've left it."
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