Page 17 of My Only (My First, My Last)

Her eyes softened. Then, she kissed her teeth. “Girl, forget what I said. Please don’t mind me. You know how I can be.”

And I did know how Janae could be. But in that moment, I couldn’t help wondering if she was right.

I shook my head. No. This isn’t that. It can’t be.

This was just work. Just one night. Just… just …

I swallowed hard, but Janae’s words slithered back in anyway.

“Watch the patterns, boo.”

I inhaled a slow, deep breath and flipped my phone over, pressing it face down against the table.

Then, I fixed a smile on my lips, draped an arm over Janae’s shoulder, and forced myself to ask, “How was your summer?”

Because I needed to focus on anything else.

Anything but the fact that, even if it wasn’t a big deal, Hassani had still just canceled on me.

And I had no idea why.

* * *

HASSANI

Three Hours Later

“Shit,” I hissed under my breath. “Dammit.”

I sat at my desk, staring down at the model home layout on my tablet, frustration bubbling in my chest. This was one of the five model homes for Greene Gardens—designed to showcase the range of styles, sizes, and layouts we offered.

Family homes. Luxury homes. Modern townhouses. Live-work hybrids. Accessible homes.

And it was that last one keeping me here late.

I set the tablet down, picked up my pencil, and started sketching adjustments on paper.

Harper sat perched at the edge of my desk, watching me work.

I exhaled sharply, fighting my rising irritation—losing the battle.

This issue should’ve been flagged weeks ago.

“Hey, Hassani,” Levi’s voice cut in as he stepped into my office, holding a folder. “I was just dropping off the updated community park design.” He hesitated. “Didn’t think you’d still be here.”

“Neither did I,” I muttered, not looking up.

Levi glanced between me and Harper before setting the folder on my desk. “What’s got you stuck here?”

“Widening the accessibility pathways in the kitchen in the accessible homes.” I shook my head. “We need at least 42 inches of clearance, and the original model didn’t account for that. Especially in the kitchen and living area.”

Levi frowned. “That’s… a pretty big miss.”

“Yeah.” I threw a quick look at him, then Harper. My attention was back on my sketch when I added, “So now, we’re shifting the island placement and reducing cabinetry depth to compensate.”

“That’s doable,” Levi agreed. “Might need some custom millwork, but nothing we can’t adjust before finalizing.”

Harper crossed her legs, tapping a manicured nail against her knee. “Would’ve been easier if we’d planned this earlier…”

I glanced up just in time to catch something flicker across her face—satisfaction? Nah. I had to be trippin’.

Why the hell would she be pleased about this screw-up?

“Yeah,” I exhaled sharply. “It would’ve .”

She looked away, but not before I caught the ghost of a smirk.

This was a minor fix. A simple adjustment. But the timing of it?

It meant I had to cancel on Ayla.

I never missed her work mixer.

It wasn’t fancy or high-profile, but it was hers . The one night a year I got to see her in her world. Her element. It killed me to text her that I wasn’t coming.

My fingers tightened around my pencil as I swiveled toward my computer.

I clicked into my email and started typing.

“Bryant,” I said as I worked. “Quick update on the model home. Adjusting the layout to improve accessibility: widening walkways to…”

“42 inches,” Harper supplied smoothly.

I nodded. “42 inches. Lowering a section of the kitchen island for wheelchair users. Integrating flooring transitions for visibility. No delay expected. Will send finalized specs by morning.”

I hit send, then leaned back in my chair, rubbing my temples.

Framing it as an update instead of an oversight was strategic. No need to shake confidence in the project over something we could fix overnight. But why the hell was I only hearing about this now?

A rustling sound pulled me from my thoughts.

“Oh, y’all ordered food?” Levi asked, picking up a white carton of takeout from the takeout bag on my desk.

Before I could answer, Harper reached out, smoothly plucking it from his hand.

“ I ordered for Hassani and me,” she said lightly.

Levi’s brows lifted slightly before he glanced at me.

I mouthed, nah , and discreetly shook my head, subtly letting him know that wasn’t true.

Harper had asked if she should order food earlier. I told her not to bother. I wasn’t planning to stay late. I was already late for Ayla’s work mixer, and I had no intention of hanging around eating Chinese takeout.

“Guys,” I said, glancing between Levi and Harper. “I’ll send over the final adjustments in the morning. Implementation needs to be immediate on this.”

“Got you,” Levi confirmed. “I’m heading out.”

“Get home safe,” I told him.

Levi nodded and walked off. The second he was gone, Harper leaned in, her voice dipping into something almost too familiar.

“Look at you,” she mused. “Always solving problems. Always under pressure.” She gestured at the takeout cartons. “Sure you don’t want to take a breather? Celebrate another crisis averted?”

I reached for my phone, clicking the side button. The screen lit up with Ayla’s reply to my earlier text.

Ayla: Ok.

Just that. No more.

I sucked my teeth and shook my head. “Nah, I’m heading out.”

Harper’s frown was quick, barely there before she fixed it into a sweet smile. “Bummer.”

I stood, grabbing my laptop bag. “Have a good night, Harper. See you in the morning.”

As I made my way toward the elevators, passing the floor-to-ceiling windows that framed the city’s glow, I couldn’t shake my irritation.

This shouldn’t have kept me late. The problem could have been caught earlier—should have been caught earlier—but Harper conveniently brought it to my attention just as I was heading out.

And the timing? Yeah, that was suspect.

The moment she flagged it as urgent, I had no choice but to stay.

“Should we order something?” she asked as the night stretched on.

I barely glanced up from my tablet.

“I can order something,” she added. “I’ll order something.”

I waved her off, too focused on fixing the flawed layout to think about food. The project was on a tight timeline. Bryant wanted residents moving in by a set date, and a problem as small as a flawed floor plan could slow everything down.

Harper didn’t have to stay, but she insisted. She kept talking, filling the silence, while I barely engaged. I was too locked in, too determined to make things right.

Because this was the biggest project of my career.

I couldn’t afford to be bad at this. Not even once.

So I canceled on my wife when I really didn’t want to.

At some point, I took a short break and picked up my phone.

Ayla’s text was waiting.

Ayla: Are you still coming?

My stomach knotted.

I squeezed my eyes shut, exhaling slow and deep before unlocking my phone. I hated this. Hated that she even had to ask.

I started typing.

Me: Baby, I swear I’m trying

No. Deleted it.

Me: I promise I’ll make it up to you.

Didn’t feel right either.

Finally, I settled on the truth.

Me: I’m so sorry, baby, but I can’t make it tonight. I’ll make it up to you, though. I promise. I love you.

“Everything okay?” Harper’s voice cut through the quiet.

I barely looked up. “My wife has an event tonight. I had to cancel on her.”

“You can just call her Ayla.”

I furrowed my brows.

“You say your wife like we haven’t all met her.”

I studied her for a second before looking away.

The guilt sat heavy on my chest as I hit send.

“Ayla will understand,” Harper said, tone light. “She has to. She’s married to one of the best architects in the game. I’m sure she knows late nights and canceled plans come with the territory. I know I’d understand.”

I just stared at her for a second.

Then shook my head and looked back at my work.

The drive home was quick. Light traffic meant I made it back in under half an hour.

From the driveway, I could see that all the lights were off.

It was after 10 p.m. Ayla had work in the morning, so she was probably already in bed.

I exhaled hard as I stepped inside, kicking off my loafers at the door. Undoing my tie as I climbed the stairs.

When I reached our bedroom, she was curled up under the covers, still and quiet.

Guilt gnawed at me.

I set my bag down, grabbed a quick shower, and brushed my teeth. On the way home, I’d stopped at the 24-hour deli, not far from the office, for a sandwich. Normally, we’d eat before her work mixers—grab dinner together, then head to the event.

Tonight should’ve been no different.

But it was.

I hoped she’d eaten something before coming home.

After my shower, I climbed into bed and immediately draped an arm over Ayla’s waist.

But the second I did, she pushed my arm off.

I smirked. “I thought you were sleeping.”

“You thought wrong,” she rasped.

“You’re up past your bedtime.”

“And you missed my event. And you’re late coming home.”

There was no humor in her voice. She wasn’t raising her voice, but I could hear the weight of her disappointment.

“I’m sorry, baby,” I spoke lovingly, moving in close again. “Something came up at work that I had to fix, or the project would’ve been delayed.”

“ Mm-hmm .”

Dismissive.

I licked my lips and closed the space between us again. “I told you I’d make it up to you.”

Ayla shifted further away from me. “Just leave me alone right now, Hassani.”

I exhaled slowly, my eyes adjusting to the dim room. Then a slow smile tugged at my lips as I reached for my phone. Unlocking it, I tapped into my music app, typed in the title of a specific song, and pressed play.

The opening piano notes filled the air.

Our wedding song.

Case’s “Happily Ever After.”