Page 36 of My Only (My First, My Last)

“If I fire her immediately after she invites you to have an affair? She can claim sexual harassment. And you better believe she’d be loud about it.” Bryant shook his head. “And I am not trying to tie up my firm with lawyer fees. Not on this project.”

I sucked in a deep breath, gripping my knees.

“I want everything clean with Greene Gardens.”

“Yeah.” I leaned back in my seat. “I wouldn’t put any of that past her.”

Bryant nodded. “That’s why I’ve been playing the long game with her. Reassigning her every time she steps out of line. Keeping distance. She’s a liability waiting to happen, but I need her to do something concrete. Something that gives me grounds to fire her without it blowing back on me.”

I gritted my teeth. “She just gave you something. Intentionally delaying a project as big as Greene Gardens? That’s concrete. It’s totally unprofessional.”

“It’s absolutely unprofessional, but it isn’t concrete.

” Bryant shook his head. “It’s not enough.

If I fire her outright, she’ll spin it, Hassani.

She’ll say it’s retaliation. Maybe claim you came on to her.

She’ll say whatever the hell she needs to say to protect herself.

And trust me, you don’t want to be in the middle of that.

You already said she’s caused problems in your marriage.

Allegations of sexual harassment will not help.

Even if they’re bogus. You can’t un-ring that bell. ”

I dropped my head back, exhaling hard.

“A man like myself knows all the tactics.” Bryant chuckled grimly. “I’ve seen it used on people I know, and it’s enough to make me very protective of anything with my name on it.”

I shook my head.

I didn’t want Harper to get fired, but it wasn’t right that she could pull this shit again without any real consequence. No one else should have to go through what I was going through.

But Bryant was right.

If Harper was slick enough to manufacture issues on a major project, then she was smart enough to weaponize any situation.

“I’ll reassign her to a project I’m heading in Boston.” Bryant nodded. “She’ll be faced with a decision that’ll be a win-win for us. Either she takes the transfer, and we never have to deal with her again… or she quits.” He gestured with his hands. “Either way, she’s out of our hair.”

I nodded, then dropped my head into my hands.

“Hassani, you’ve done an excellent job on this project,” Bryant continued. “I’m blown away by how much you’ve accomplished in just a year. And while I appreciate the hard work, you look like you could use some rest. A lot of it.”

I lifted my head to meet his eyes.

“Because you look like hell, man.”

I exhaled, rolling my shoulders back.

“I don’t think you’ve taken a day off since we started Phase 1. Have you?”

“I haven’t.” I shrugged. “I’ve made time around it, though.”

“That’s not enough.” Bryant pressed his hand into the table. “I need my principal architect refreshed. I need you looking at blueprints with fresh eyes, not severely tired hazel-green ones that are red-rimmed. While I love the headway we’ve made, I don’t want your home to be the sacrifice, either.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “And I’m a totally different man telling you that.”

I focused on him.

Bryant leaned back, hands clasped. “Work was my life before Zoe. It was my pulse. This office has an en suite with a shower stall. That sofa behind you?” He pointed, and I glanced over my shoulder.

“Doubles as a very comfortable bed. There were nights I didn’t even make it home.

That all changed when I met Zoe… quite randomly, I might add.

” He laughed. “Hassani, I spent every waking moment in this office. It was practically my home.”

“And Zoe changed that?” I asked.

“In a major way.” His smile softened. “She made me realize I wasn’t actually living.”

“That’s amazing.” I smiled. “Not the not living part. The other part, obviously.”

Bryant chuckled. “I’ve learned that your career is important, but the foundation of any great man is the home he builds. It makes no sense to spend all your time building an empire if you have no one to share it with.”

I nodded slowly, letting his words sink in. “You’re right.”

“To circle back,” he continued, “Harper’s actions haven’t caused any major delays, correct?”

“None,” I assured him. “Despite the setbacks, the project is still on schedule for the launch date.”

Bryant tapped the table. “Then take the rest of today off… and tomorrow too.”

I blinked. “What?”

“Go home. Get your head right. Relax.” He leaned forward. “If you need longer, take a week or two after that. You’ve earned it, Hassani. Seriously.”

Two weeks away from work sounded great.

Ayla and I didn’t take our annual summer trip last year because of the project. We had to settle for a staycation in the city over a weekend. And this year we hadn’t even started planning a trip… because of me.

“Okay.” I nodded. “Let’s start with today and tomorrow off. I’ll see how that goes.”

“Sounds good.” Bryant clapped his hands once. “I’ll have Chelsea send out an email letting the team know you’re out for the rest of today and tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Bryant.”

“ No , thank you .” He smiled. “You’re my dream architect.”

I laughed.

“I’m serious, man.” He nodded. “You get the vision in ways no one else could have. You remind me of a dear good friend of mine. Lennox. May he rest.” Bryant inhaled a deep breath. “I say all that to say… I’m looking to have a very, very long partnership with you, Hassani.”

“As am I.” My smile was genuine. “This has been my dream job, and you’ve been my dream partner—despite the nonsense as of late.”

Bryant smirked. “Consider that handled.”

He gestured toward the office door.

“Now go. Enjoy the rest of your day off… and tomorrow.”

After wrapping up my meeting with Bryant, I left the building and got back into my car, hitting the road, but not for home.

An hour later, I pulled off the interstate and made my way past the newly installed village sign.

My lips curled into a small, tired smile as I drove along the freshly paved wet roads, glimpsing the sidewalks, the parks, and the first completed neighborhoods.

The rain had stopped, leaving behind puddles and a shimmer of dew on trees and partially built homes.

Even with only the builders present, their machinery humming in the air as they worked, the place already felt alive.

The scent of wood, dust, and progress filled my lungs.

Damn, it felt good seeing the vision come to life.

This all started from a doodle in my sketchbook.

I’d visited the area when we broke ground but hadn’t been back since. Returning now felt necessary.

I drove past the parks, the lakefront boardwalk, and a newly developed biking trail, caution tape still wrapped around it.

The houses under construction gave a glimpse of what the village would soon become.

I had a front-row seat to history.

I pulled up to a section of land facing the lake, put the car in park, and just sat there, staring out in front of me.

When I first landed this job and learned about the custom home lot program, I didn’t hesitate to sign up.

When I got the green light, I purchased the land by the lake, envisioning a summer home modeled after the villa Ayla and I stayed in during our honeymoon in Saint Lucia.

For months, I’d been sketching, refining ideas, planning to surprise her.

A dream retreat, right here in New York. A place where we could escape every summer.

I unhooked my seatbelt, grabbed my sketchbook off the passenger seat, and stepped out of my car.

The bottoms of my sneakers pressed into uneven dirt and scattered rocks as I made my way toward the land that was supposed to be ours.

I kneeled, laid the sketchbook down on the damp soil, and flattened my palm against the earth.

Feeling the weight of everything settle into my bones.

What if I’d already lost her?

My chest ached at the thought.

I closed my eyes, pressed my hand deeper into the soil, and prayed.

I’d never really prayed before, but kneeling there—in that moment—it just felt like the right thing to do.

“Dear God,” I whispered. “ Please , let me fix this. Let me heal things with Ayla in time for us to enjoy this place together. Please .”

I stayed there, eyes closed, feeling the cool wind sweep across my face, feeling my eyes burn with unshed tears, and hoping God would answer me.

* * *

By the time I returned home that night, it was after 8 p.m.

I’d spent hours in Greene Gardens, walking the village, feeling the energy of something great coming to life.

Bryant was right. We’d made serious headway.

Sitting in an office, reviewing project timelines, wasn’t the same as seeing the progress with my own eyes.

The parks were complete. The homes were rising. Business spaces were forming.

It felt real.

It felt damn good.

But none of it mattered if I didn’t have Ayla.

After a quick shower, I pulled on some sweats and made my way down the stairs, toward the guest bedroom.

For the first time in days, I felt clear-headed.

Last night, I couldn’t face her. I was too ashamed, too drained, too disgusted with myself for letting Harper outsmart me.

The night before that, she locked the door.

Tonight?

If she locked the door again, I’d do whatever it took to get her to open it.

To open her heart to me again.

Because I wasn’t giving up.

Not now.

Not ever.

The guest room’s door opened with ease, and I exhaled with relief.

Ayla was in bed, facing away, but I knew she wasn’t asleep. Not yet.

She turned onto her back as soon as I stepped inside, her eyes meeting mine in the dim light.

I didn’t say anything. I just climbed into bed beside her, lifting the summer down and pulling it over me.

This bed was smaller than ours. A queen-sized mattress in the guest room that was never meant for me. With my tall frame and long limbs, it didn’t fit. But Ayla was here, and so, I would be too.

I laid my head against the pillow, locking eyes with her as she shifted to face me. Her expression softened as she studied me, her gaze searching my face. Taking me in. Reading me like she always did.

Then, without a word, her hand came up to my face. I closed my eyes at the warmth of her touch, pressing into her palm.

A moment later, she wrapped her arm around me, pulling me into her.

And God , I needed it.

I let go. Just for a second. Let myself sink into her embrace, breathing her in, feeling her against me, her warmth, her heartbeat.

I held her tighter. Buried my face in her shoulder, inhaling the scent of her skin. I kissed her there.

Once.

Then twice.

Soft, lingering kisses trailing up toward her lips.

She moaned the second we kissed, and that sound? That sound did something to me. Like always.

Our lips parted, tongues brushing, searching. Slow, deep strokes as we got lost in each other again.

I pulled back first, needing to breathe, but barely able to let her go.

“I haven’t been able to sleep without you,” I whispered against her lips.

“Me neither,” she admitted.

“Let’s not do that anymore,” I said, cradling her face in my hands. “Please, let’s not do that ever again.”

She nodded, and I kissed her again. Deeper this time. More.

We moaned into each other’s mouths, the kiss turning heated, turning desperate, turning into something… more. Because it always did.

I twisted her onto her side, positioning myself behind her.

She gasped, and I groaned as I slid inside, my hand immediately moving to her clit.

“Hassani…” she whispered, her voice breaking into a moan. “Oooh, baby…”

“Yeah, baby,” I whispered back, my lips brushing the back of her ear. “I’ve missed you.”

She turned her head, eyes locking with mine. “I’ve missed you more.”

I kissed her again, swallowing her moans as I rocked into her, her walls gripping me in a way that made me forget everything else.

She twisted in my arms, pushed me onto my back, and straddled me.

Slowly, she lowered herself onto me, taking me in inch by inch, stretching around me.

My head pressed back into the pillow as her heat surrounded me, my hands finding her waist. Holding her steady. Helping her move.

She rode me slow, deep, dragging out the moment, her moans falling in time with every roll of her hips.

Our eyes stayed locked, the connection between us unbreakable. She fought to keep her gaze on mine, but I felt the second the pleasure took her under.

Her eyes fluttered shut. Her head tipped back.

“ Mmm ,” I moaned, gripping her waist tighter, guiding her. Sliding my hand up to cup her breast as I matched her pace with slow, intentional upstrokes.

The air thickened between us.

The rhythm built.

I sat up, chest to chest with her, then turned, pinning her beneath me.

She gasped as I pushed deeper, her legs wrapping tight around me, heels pressing into my back.

Her nails dragged along my skin, hands searching, gripping.

This was home.

She was my home. My escape. My peace. My everything.

And in this moment, I knew… there was no way she could leave me.

“ Oooh , Hassani,” she whimpered. “Oh, God, I’m coming again.”

And so was I.

I grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head, locking our bodies together, making her feel me.

I slowed my strokes, dragging it out, savoring the moment, memorizing her.

Because nothing else in this world mattered more than this.

Than her.

“Yes,” I groaned, my voice syncing with each deep stroke. “Yes, Ayla. Come on, baby… Come on…”

She exhaled a long, shaky breath, and I felt her unravel beneath me.

That sound. That feeling. It sent a pulse through me, and suddenly, I couldn’t hold back anymore.

My movements shifted from controlled to instinctive. Nothing calculated. Nothing measured. Just us.

I chased that feeling with her. Let it consume me. Let it take over.

My breath caught. My teeth clenched. My toes dug into the mattress as I drove deeper, staying longer in the greatest place on earth—right here, inside her.

And then, release.

A tremor ripped through me, taking me under an undulating wave of pleasure. With her.

By the time I remembered to breathe, I’d collapsed on top of her, pressing my face into her skin, inhaling her instead of air.

Her arms wrapped around me, tight, like she felt it too.

Like she needed this just as badly.

“Don’t leave me,” I whispered against her, my voice hoarse, raw. “Please, baby, don’t leave me.”

Tears filled her eyes as she whispered back, “I won’t. I won’t.”

I kissed them away. Every single one.

“Come upstairs, A. Please,” I begged, balancing on my forearms so I could see her. So she could see me. “Come to bed with me. I need you there. Badly.”

She nodded, her fingertips brushing tenderly against my face. “Okay.”