Page 41 of My Only (My First, My Last)

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“Oh my God,” I held my hands out in front of me, wiggling my fingers. “I have no more heart in my chest because it has completely melted away. Give me my baby!”

The soft coos from my friend Sunni’s daughter, Amara, sounded like my favorite melody as Sunni handed her to me. She was five months old and so damn chunky.

“I could eat you,” I said, burying my nose in her tiny neck.

“ Uh-uh , don’t eat my baby.”

I giggled, holding Amara close to my heart and giving her a sweet hug. “Little princess, I would’ve been completely heartbroken if I didn’t get to see you before my trip.”

I inhaled Amara’s scent again, sighing at the soft, powdery sweetness.

“She smells so good.” I pressed my lips to her chubby cheek. “You smell amazing, girl. What you got on?”

Sunni laughed. “Here,” she said, tossing a burp cloth over my shoulder. “Cover yourself with this because Amara can go from cute to eww real fast.”

I shook my head. “I’m sure your spit-up smells like roses. Don’t it? Freshly picked too, huh, girl?”

“Tell me you’re an auntie without telling me you’re an auntie.” Sunni kissed her teeth. “Because only y’all would say some silly stuff like that.”

I bounced Amara in my arms, completely lost in her gummy smile and big, bright eyes. “Baby girl… you hear something?”

Sunni let out a laugh, her face lifting to the ceiling. “Not y’all got me feeling like the third wheel in my own house.”

It was one of those soft, sun-baked July days when I stopped by Sunni’s house in Jersey to visit her and my goddaughter, Amara.

Sunni had been a stay-at-home mom since she found out she was pregnant last year—but the “stay-at-home” part barely applied to her. She and Amara were always out and about, especially during the summer. I was just glad my girl made time for me to see my goddaughter before I left for my trip.

“The last time I saw you,” I said to Amara, “you were a little, itty-bitty one-week-old newborn.”

“You see her all the time via FaceTime,” Sunni reminded me.

I brought Amara closer, pressing another kiss against her cheek. “I can’t kiss her like this via FaceTime.”

Amara giggled and kicked her little legs as if she understood me.

Amara was sitting on my lap when she grabbed my finger and held onto it. Something about that made my chest tighten with longing.

God, I wanted this.

We were sitting in Amara’s playroom. I had been at Sunni’s for the past hour, but I needed to be back upstate New York before a certain time to rest up. The next day was the first day of Hassani and my road trip.

I was both excited and nervous about it. I had never been in an RV in my life.

When Amara woke up from her nap, Sunni and I moved from the solarium to the playroom, and that’s where we stayed as I held Amara in my arms.

Sunni’s home had transformed after she got pregnant with Amara. The space went from neat and stylish to warm and inviting—filled with all the little signs of her happy family life. I had always loved coming here, but today, being surrounded by baby toys and family photos, it felt… different.

It felt bittersweet.

I couldn’t help but feel torn between my love for my girl’s family and my own struggles.

Was I waiting too long?

“Getting back to what we were talking about in the solarium before Amara got up,” Sunni said, pulling me from my thoughts. “I’m proud of Hassani. I think he handled himself well with that woman.”

I shrugged a shoulder and smiled down at Amara.

I had told Sunni about the situation with Harper. She had already heard me mention Harper once before, so she was familiar.

“I hate that he didn’t listen,” I admitted. “But I’m happy he handled himself well, too.”

Sunni kissed her teeth. “Women like that make marriage harder than it has to be.”

“And I don’t get it,” I added. “How do you have the audacity to do something like that? Like… how does that happen? How does the brain allow such a decision to be made?”

“She was probably looking for validation.” Sunni shook her head. “Nothing boosts an insecure woman’s fragile ego like breaking something in seconds that took years to build—and, of course, something she didn’t build herself. Makes them feel like a real winner.”

I exhaled a scoffing laugh.

“My Nana, may she rest in peace, used to compare marriage to owning a blown glass gallery.”

I blinked. “A blown glass gallery?”

“ Mmm-hmm .” Sunni nodded. “She used to tell me that marriage is like spending hours and hours creating a one-of-a-kind, handcrafted glass piece. And she said I should watch out for people standing outside my gallery with steel bats, trying to get in—knowing damn well neither they nor that bat belong there.”

“ Hmph .”

“Trying to explain to the person with the bat why they don’t belong in the gallery with that bat is pointless,” Sunni continued, adjusting herself in her seat.

“Because they know better. They already know they’re not supposed to be there.

They just got bad intentions and get some satisfaction from making you uneasy and as miserable as them.

It gives them great delight to see you worried over something that matters to you and that they think they can’t create themselves.

” She shook her head. “So, Nana always said that’s what security is for—which, of course, was a double entendre.

“She said if my security is in place and knows their role, which is to protect and secure…” Sunni tapped my knee.

“… security being Josiah, of course.” She winked, referring to her husband.

“Then we’re good, and people with steel bats won’t be able to get in.

But if security just thinks that people with steel bats just want to look around and ain’t gonna do anything—which, in real life, is like going out for a late-night drink or taking a call in the middle of the night—then my fine glass piece will always be in jeopardy, no matter how long it took or how hard I worked to make it. ”

I nodded, absorbing that.

“So, I don’t worry about these women with steel bats standing outside my glass gallery.

” Sunni shook her head. “My alliance is with my husband. He knows what’s at stake, and he knows his job.

No good can ever come from worrying about other women anyway.

Just move out the way and let karma do what she do, too.

Because the ill-intentioned can rationalize not taking vows or respecting someone else's marriage all they want—but karma is a mirror. It doesn’t judge, only reflects energy.

And in time, it gives everyone exactly what they deserve and what they’ve earned… for better or for worse.”

“I feel you,” I said, nodding in agreement. And even though I knew my trust in Hassani was the most important factor, I still couldn’t shake the uneasiness deep down.

Women finding Hassani attractive was one thing, but offering to be mistresses and actively trying to sabotage his career just so they could be around him? That was a whole different beast.

“We’re going on a road trip tomorrow,” I told Sunni as I positioned Amara over my shoulder, rocking her gently.

“You and the wannabe mistress?”

I kissed my teeth and whipped my head toward Sunni. “Sunni. Too soon.”

She giggled. “I’m sorry. You and Hassani, right?”

“Yes, Hassani and I, smart ass.”

Sunni’s giggles turned into a bellyful laugh, which got a laugh out of me too.

“It’s a trip to reconnect.”

“I’m excited for you.”

Just then, Amara started to fuss in my arms.

“I think she’s hungry.” Sunni unhooked the top of her nursing bra. “Hand her over.”

I pressed another kiss to Amara’s soft cheek before gently passing her back to her mama. As soon as Sunni got her in her arms, she cradled her daughter and guided her to her breast.

I smiled, watching them—a simple, beautiful moment of motherhood. They looked like a painting.

Sunni glanced up at me. “Maybe Aunt Ayla and Uncle Hassani can make a baby on this trip so you can have someone to play with.”

I laughed, brushing it off, but deep down?

I wouldn’t mind if that happened.

I spent another hour with my girl and her baby before kissing them both goodbye and heading out. I promised to visit them one more time before the school year started once I was back from my trip.

As I drove back to Upstate New York, my mind kept circling back to babies.

I hadn’t picked up my prescription since my appointment a couple of weeks ago.

I kept telling myself I would… but some part of me really didn’t want to get them.

But I also didn’t like keeping that from Hassani.

I reasoned that when I got home tonight, I’d tell him. Let him know I stopped taking them when my last pack ran out.

* * *

I pulled into the driveway and noticed all the lights were on inside.

When I stepped through the door, I saw our bags packed by the front entrance.

We were really doing this.

By tomorrow morning, Hassani and I would be on the road, in an RV… an RV that I hadn’t seen yet.

He promised me it would be like a hotel on wheels. I still wasn’t convinced, but I was curious to see if he was right.

I walked into the kitchen and found Hassani sitting at the island, his head bowed as he feathered the tip of his pencil across a page in his sketchbook.

He lifted his head and smiled. “Back in time for us to make dinner, huh?”

“You know it.” I twisted my lips to one side. “What are you working on?”

“A little something-something,” he said, adding a few more strokes before closing the book. “I’ll share very soon. You ready to get started?”

I hesitated.

I wanted to tell him about the prescription right then.

I hadn’t done anything wrong—technically, we had already discussed babies. He wanted them. That was a relief.

But did he mean right now?

“What’s up?” he asked, lowering his head slightly to meet my gaze. “Why does it feel like you’re trying to solve a calculus problem over there?”

I giggled. “What?”

“You always wear that look when you’re doing math.” He licked his lips. “It’s sexy.”

I rolled my eyes.

“That’s one of the reasons I loved when you tutored me in high school and college.”

I bit back a smile.

“Probably why I loved failing math so much too.”

I hollered a laugh, quickly discarding any thoughts about telling him about the prescription.

An hour later, we had wound down, moments away from going to sleep.

We were going on an adventure tomorrow.

That night probably would’ve been a good time to bring up the whole baby thing, but after I got in my head, I decided against it. We were back in a good place, and things were still delicate. It just didn’t feel like the right time to suggest another shift for us.

As Hassani showered in the en suite, I waited in bed, scrolling through my phone.

Our new thing—though it wasn’t really new to us—was cuddling. A substitute for what we really loved doing, since we couldn’t make love right now.

I skimmed through different posts from people I knew, but stopped on one from my high school friend Chloe.

She was announcing her pregnancy. Her first.

A pang of jealousy hit me, twisting the muscles in my stomach.

I almost hated myself for wondering…

Will that ever be me?

I clicked out of my phone the moment Hassani emerged from the en suite.

He was wearing nothing but boxers.

Boxers that did very little to hide the imprint of his dick.

“Distracted?” he teased as he climbed into bed.

I sly grin spread across my face.

Hassani pulled me into him, and I nestled comfortably in his arms, my back pressed against his chest.

“I love you, baby,” he whispered in my ear before pressing a soft kiss there.

“I love you too.”

I wanted to say more. Maybe tell him about Chloe, then ease into everything else: the pills, the baby. But instead, I just stayed there, wrapped in his arms, letting the warmth of his body speak louder than the words I couldn’t bring myself to say.

I didn’t want to ruin a good thing by adding something new... not yet, at least.