Page 14 of My Only (My First, My Last)

Hassani clapped so hard, his smile so wide, that I could feel him soaking in the weight of Bryant’s words. And I felt it too—an energy humming in the air, charging everyone in the room, making me feel honored to witness it.

I had always known that Hassani’s role as principal architect was huge , but tonight, I realized it was monumental . And with that realization came a weight I couldn’t quite put into words.

“Whoa,” I breathed, turning to him once the applause died down. “This is beyond incredible, baby.”

“I know, right?” He let out a deep breath, puffing his cheeks as he exhaled. “My heart is pounding mad hard right now.”

I pressed my hand to his chest and felt it—his heartbeat racing beneath my palm. I traced slow circles against his shirt, then lifted my hands to his face, cupping either side as I stared into his eyes.

“I am so proud of you,” I told him, my voice thick with emotion. “You’ve worked so hard for this. You deserve this. All of it. And you’re about to kill it . I can feel it in my bones.”

Hassani inhaled another deep breath, nodding along with me.

“Hassani.”

We both turned toward the familiar voice calling his name.

Approaching us was Bryant Greene, one arm wrapped protectively around a stunning, pregnant woman who walked beside him.

Her belly was round but not too big, just enough to steal the show.

She was radiant, with her long, perfectly rolled locs, glowing in that effortless way that made people stop and look.

My smile grew the closer they got, my eyes drawn instinctively to the small swell of her stomach.

“Mr. Greene,” Hassani greeted, reaching out to shake his hand.

“Bryant,” Bryant corrected, gripping Hassani’s hand firmly. “I keep telling you, everyone else can call me Mr. Greene , but you?” He pointed at Hassani. “ Just Bryant.”

Then his gaze shifted to me, his smile widening.

He pointed toward me before looking back at Hassani. “Mrs. Franklin?”

“Yes.” Hassani gave a proud smile, slipping an arm around my waist. “This is my wife, Mrs. Ayla Franklin.”

Bryant took my hand with an easy confidence, his grip gentle but firm. “Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Franklin.”

“Likewise,” I replied, charmed by his presence.

“And this…” Bryant said, his voice warm, “is my wife, Mrs. Zoe Greene.”

“It’s so good to meet you two,” Zoe said, shaking my hand, then Hassani’s. “Hassani, your quick doodle set the foundation for all of this. I hope you know that.”

“Oh, God.” Hassani chuckled, shaking his head. “From what Bryant told us; we wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for you .”

“And that is a fact ,” Bryant agreed, grinning. “I married a genius .”

“Well, we got that in common,” Hassani joked, holding out a fist to Bryant, who bumped it with his own.

Zoe and I giggled.

“Well,” I said, tilting my head, “who do I thank for inviting us to such an amazing place for a work event?”

“Isn’t it stunning?” Bryant asked, his eyes sweeping the space again.

“It’s beyond breathtaking,” I admitted.

“That would be Mrs. Greene and her genius mind again ,” he said proudly, resting a hand over Zoe’s belly. “It was her idea to host it here.”

I warmed at the sight of how affectionate he was toward her, how he couldn’t seem to keep his hands too far from her growing belly.

“A genius, indeed.” I smiled. “Do you know what you two are having?”

“A boy .” Zoe grinned, playfully rolling her eyes. “And I haven’t been able to hear straight since we found out—this guy’s been talking my ear off about it?—”

“Hey, Mrs. Greene!” Bryant cut in, pulling her close to press a kiss against her temple. “You’ve better watch it.”

I giggled at the way they bickered like a couple deeply in love.

“How about you two?” Zoe asked next. “Any children?”

I felt Hassani’s gaze shift toward me, and instinctively, I glanced at him before refocusing on Bryant and Zoe.

“Not yet,” I answered, my voice steady. “But soon.”

“Yeah,” Hassani echoed, just a beat behind me.

I don’t know why I said that. Why we said that.

Especially standing here , at the start of the biggest project Hassani had ever taken on.

We had never sat down and had a real conversation about children. Not once in all the years we’d been together. Sure, we’d made casual jokes about what traits we hoped our future kids would inherit—his height, my curls, his hazel-green eyes—but that was it. It had always been hypothetical. Wishful.

And yet, those words— but soon —had just left my mouth so easily.

Why?

“Well,” Bryant said, clapping Hassani on the shoulder. “When the time is right, I’m sure it’ll happen. And when it does…” He smirked. “They’ll say their father helped build the village that it takes to raise our future’s brightest minds.”

“Amen.” Hassani nodded.

The Greenes excused themselves shortly after, moving on to mingle with other guests. But their words? They stayed with me.

Children.

Why hadn’t Hassani and I ever seriously talked about children?

We’d been enjoying our marriage, that much was true.

And every time my doctor asked me if I wanted to renew my birth control prescription, I had answered yes without hesitation.

But… why hadn’t I hesitated ?

“You okay?” Hassani’s voice pulled me from my thoughts.

I blinked and turned to him as we stood by the makeshift bar, waiting for our glasses of champagne.

“Yeah,” I lied, forcing a small smile. “I’m good. Just really getting high off the energy in here.”

“Word.” He nodded, accepting our glasses from the bartender. “Thank you.”

Hassani handed me my glass and I took a slow sip of champagne, my thoughts still swirling.

I had never thought it before.

Not like this .

And now that I had… I wasn’t sure I was ready for the answer.

Throughout the night, as Hassani introduced me to yet another one of his colleagues with his formal, “ This is my wife, Mrs. Ayla Franklin ,” my eyes kept drifting to the Greenes.

I was so impressed by how protective and attentive Bryant was with his wife.

A man who was both a leader and a devoted husband.

At times, I almost forgot he was a multi-billionaire because of how visibly affectionate he was toward her.

I couldn’t help but want that.

Not the marriage—I had that. Not the devoted husband—I definitely had that too.

I wanted the baby.

But damn, what a time to want that, right? My husband was about to be involved in the biggest project of his career. The timing couldn’t be worse.

Bryant had said that when the time was right, we’d know. And now wasn’t the right time.

For the next hour, Hassani and I moved through the gallery, stopping to admire the architecture in between his introductions. Amongst his team, I met Jordan Brock, his project manager, whose engagement ring was blinding, and his landscape architect, Levi Weston, along with Levi’s wife, Calese.

“This event is insane,” Calese said, tossing back the rest of her champagne before placing the empty glass on a passing server’s tray. “Thank you,” she added before turning back to me. “I have never in my life. Like, who does this? Bryant Greene, that’s who.”

Calese was so animated, not shy in the slightest. It was refreshing to see someone so down-to-earth in an environment that made me feel out of place.

“You smell so good, Ayla,” she said, her bright eyes moving through my cloud of coily curls next. “And your hair! I’m obsessed.”

“I’m obsessed with yours ,” I replied, smiling up at her perfectly shaped blowout. “It is sparkling under these lights.”

“But your shape?” she said, gesturing at my head. “It’s the perfect heart and frames your face beautifully. Has anyone ever told you that you look like a young Lauryn Hill? Lighter, of course. But just like her.”

“It was the first thing I noticed when we met as teenagers,” Hassani said, walking up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist. “That’s why I call her A. Boogie.”

Calese pressed a hand to her chest. “That is too cute.” She wrapped an arm around Levi’s biceps when he came to stand closer. “Levi calls me Cali.” Her deep brown skin glowed, as if she were blushing as she looked up at him. “I love it. It’s always the cutesy nicknames for me.”

I giggled.

“Anyway,” Levi said, chuckling. “We’re about to head out.” He extended his hand to Hassani for a dap, and Hassani obliged. “Monday morning is when all the fun begins, huh?”

“That’s right,” Hassani confirmed. “The planning and design phase starts to ensure the first phase of homes and businesses is ready.”

“Aight, aight.” Levi rubbed his hands together. “Can’t wait.”

Calese turned to me and stepped closer. “Girl, I don’t know what they’re talking about, but it was so good to meet you.”

I laughed as she took my hand, and I squeezed hers gently.

“It was great meeting you too, Calese,” I replied. “I hope to see you again.”

“And you will .” She winked. “Nice meeting you, Hassani.”

“Likewise,” Hassani replied with a smile.

“Great meeting you too, Levi,” I added.

“An absolute pleasure meeting you, Ayla.” He smiled at me before focusing on Hassani. “Behind every great man, right?”

“Oh, you already know.” Hassani chuckled. “Y’all get home safely.”

The Westons were making their way to the exit when I turned to Hassani.

“Should we be getting ready to go too, or?—”

“There you are,” a light and airy voice said behind us.

I turned just in time to see a slim, statuesque woman strutting toward us, her bright, sparkling smile visible from across the gallery.

“I don’t know why we keep missing each other, Hass.”

I peeked up at my husband, catching the small smile he sent her way before wrapping an arm around me.

I locked eyes with him. “You know her?”

“ Uh , yeah,” he replied. “This is?—”

“Harper Royce,” she said, extending her hand toward me.

She was… stunning.

Warm brown skin, shoulder-length wavy hair—thick, full-bodied, not quite curly but not straight either. Sharp, dark brown eyes. Tall. Almost too close in height to Hassani.

I forced my hand up to take hers. “Nice to meet you.”