Page 15 of Saving Saul

“Carissa,” I blurt out, my words tumbling over each other. “He asked me. Saul proposed.”

The silence stretches across the line, taut and electric, before she blows a low whistle. “Wait—what? Saulproposed? Sweetheart, I don’t even know who Saul is!” Her tone is a mix of surprise and cautious amusement. “But okay, I’m listening. What’s going on?”

This is why I made her my emergency contact. I thought about adding my sister Selene, but I knew she’d never support something so spontaneous. I love Selene, but my sister is a wet blanket on a good day. I understand her life growing up was even crazier than mine.

But Carissa, she’s been my ride-or-die since we were thirteen and sneaking into Big Freedia concerts. Man! The stories we could tell.

“I—I don’t even know where to start,” I stammer, my voice shaking with adrenaline. “It’s just so much, Carissa. I’m floating up here, you know? This is the happiest I’ve been in forever, but it’s also terrifying. I don’t want to get caught up in something that isn’t real.”

Her laugh is soft yet knowing. “Girl, let me tell you something. When you said you were going on that show, I thought you’d lost your mind. A reality dating show? I mean, who does that? But…” She pauses, and I can almost hear the smile in her voice. “If this Saul guy has you sounding this happy, maybe I was wrong. Maybe you reallycanfind something real in all this craziness.”

I let out a shaky laugh. “You thought I was crazy?”

“Of course I did!” she says, her voice rising in mock exasperation. “Tessa Baptiste, the queen of not trusting anyone with her heart, signing up for a TV show to fall in love? I thought you’d be out in the first week. But here you are, telling me some man I don’t even know just proposed to you. So yeah, maybe you’re crazy—but you’re my crazy.”

Her words bring a laugh to my lips, the tension in my chest loosening just a bit. “I know it sounds wild, Carissa, but he’s… he’s different. He sees me—the real me. And for once, I don’t feel like I must fight so hard to be understood.”

Carissa sighs, her tone softening. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you, Tessa. It is important to find someone who gets you and sees how amazing you are without you having to spell it out. But remember, you don’t need anyone to validate you. You’ve always been enough on your own.”

“I know,” I say quietly. “But this feels different. He feels different.”

“Okay,” she says after a pause, her voice steady and reassuring. “If this is real and feels right, go for it. But take a step back first—breathe. Don’t let the lights, the cameras, and the romance sweep you away. You’re still Tessa Baptiste, with or without a ring on your finger.”

I close my eyes, letting her words settle over me like a calming wave. “Thanks, Carissa. You always know how to bring me back to earth.”

“Always, girl,” she says with a soft chuckle. “Now, dry those tears, get out of your head, and figure out whatyouwant. Not the producers, Saul, or the audience—just you.”

“I promise,” I say, my voice steadying. “This is my life, Carissa, not just a storyline. I won’t let myself forget that.”

“Good. Because no matter what happens, you’ve got a whole city back home rooting for you. And I’m always here if you need to talk—or a reality check.”

“Love you, Carissa,” I say, a smile tugging at my lips.

“Love you more, Tessa. Now go shine.”

After the call ends, I sit back with Carissa’s words reverberating in my heart. She’s always been my anchor, the voice that keeps me tethered to my true self. With her reminder, I know I can face the whirlwind ahead.

THE REVEAL

TESSA

My curvy figurehas always felt most at home draped in something soft, slinky, and unapologetically black. Sure, most women onLove, Unmaskedhave chosen bright colors to stand out on reveal day, but I’m not like most women. The wardrobe consultant’s sneer and exaggerated eye roll haven’t swayed me.

This is my moment, and I’ll own it my way.

The silk Gucci dress I found at a consignment shop three years ago still fits as if it were made for me. Paired with my mother’s pearls, the low neckline accentuates my long neck and shoulders while effortlessly skimming over my ample breasts. And my ass? Shaped like a ripe peach, it looks downright grabable in this. I let my soft black afro curls tumble freely down my back, framing my face, while keeping the makeup minimal—just a touch of liner and a nude lip.

If Saul Mensah wants me to be his wife, he’ll meet the real me. No filters. No masks.

It’s funny. I don’t even care what he looks like. I know he’s a Black man from his name and how he talks about his Ghanaian roots. But beyond that? Tall or short, stocky or lean, smooth-skinned or battle-scarred, it doesn’t matter. I love him already. His strength and care have brought me to the precipiceof something extraordinary. And I pray it carries us through the rest of our lives.

I haven’t been able to speak to him in three days, and I swear it's been the longest seventy-two hours of my life. I want to know what he’s been thinking, doing, and praying for. Talking to someone every day for eight to ten hours will make you a certified fiend. And right now, I need a hit from Saul.

Not to mention the hot hub sex. If that man can make me come like that with just words, I can’t wait until I meet what I know is a monster dick in person. That man has way too much Big Dick Energy not to be packing.

“Ten seconds to the reveal!” the director’s sharp, businesslike voice calls out, pulling me from my thoughts. I take my place before the double doors, nerves zipping through my body like static electricity. My palms are damp, and my heart beats in triple time as I smooth down the dress, pretending to calm myself.

"In five, four..." Oh, God. It’s happening. My life is about to split intobeforeandafter.

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