Page 43 of My Only (My First, My Last)

I smiled, watching him through low lids. “Your turn now.”

We kept true to the rule that night.

But God, was it getting harder.

Day 7, our final day, was in Charleston, South Carolina.

Hassani hadn’t mentioned it, but I was sure we’d be driving back to New York after tonight. And honestly? I was looking forward to the return trip.

Before returning to the RV, Hassani built a small campfire outside.

He told me he learned how to do it online, and honestly, I was impressed every time he built one.

He was very much about this RV life.

And, I guess I was too now.

Although, there was no way I was dealing with dump stations like Hassani had to before we headed to Charleston.

We were somewhere between Tennessee and South Carolina when Hassani announced…

“We gotta stop at this dump station.”

I blinked. “What’s a dump station?”

“Exactly what it sounds like.” He turned the steering wheel, guiding the RV off to the right. “A place we gotta dump shit.”

“Shit like what?”

He glanced at me. “Shit.”

I winced. “Ewww.”

“We’re literally about to dump our shit, baby.” He chuckled as he parked.

I contorted my face and gagged.

He snorted, then broke into a laugh.

Reaching for me, he pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I would never ask the passenger princess to do such labor.”

He unhooked his seatbelt. “I got it. Make us some coffee in the meantime.”

Now, that I could do.

I waited in the RV and watched from the panoramic windows.

Besides the luxury amenities, my favorite thing about the RV was the windows.

They were large, sweeping, letting us experience stunning views of mountains as we drove.

And right now?

They were giving me a clear view of my husband, saving the day handling the dirty work.

I stepped down the RV stairs and stopped at a comfortable distance—far enough so I wouldn’t smell anything—then lifted my mug to sip my coffee.

Hassani was hooking up a long hose to the bottom of the RV.

“I design luxury homes for a living,” he mumbled to himself as he adjusted his rubber gloves, “yet here I am, dealing with actual shit. My God.”

I snorted. “You okay over there, Mr. Franklin? Need a hug, baby?”

“Nah, baby,” he replied. “But I might need therapy after this.”

I laughed. “I mean… we are in therapy. You should bring this up next session. I’m sure Dr. Aldridge would love to hear how we bonded over this.”

“Bonded?” He twisted his lips, giving me the universal yeah right expression. “I’m over here hooking up hoses to places where my wife and I dropped shit off—literally.”

I gagged. “Hassani!”

“And she’s standing over there, sipping coffee and laughing while I risk my life.”

I sipped my coffee on cue. “Baby, risking your life is a stretch.”

He laughed as he turned back to the hose, opening the valve.

“What now?”

He smiled. “We let it do its thing.”

“Is it okay to do this here?”

“It is,” he replied, pulling off his gloves as he walked back to me. “This site was made for this—I mapped it out before we even got here.”

Hassani stood in front of me, looking as good as ever, even handling one of the nastiest tasks I’d ever seen him handle.

And somehow, I thought it was so damn sexy.

He caught my look.

“Oh, I know that look.” He smirked, tossing his gloves over his shoulder.

I stood on the arches of my feet and pressed my lips to his.

Hassani wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close.

“I don’t know what it is, but seeing you be about this camp life is so damn sexy.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm.” I wrapped my free arm around his neck. “Very much so.”

He pecked my lips.

“Thanks for handling this, because I don’t even want to know what would happen if we had a plumbing situation in this RV.”

“I would never let my woman deal with something like that.”

I smiled up at him.

“See, this is when I’d scoop you up, take you into that private room up there, and do everything to you except let you rest…” Hassani shrugged. “Which… we could still do, because she ain’t here.”

I tossed my head back in a laugh.

We didn’t do it that night.

Hadn’t done it at all during this trip.

Aside from that one moment, Hassani and I had been good. Intentional. This trip was about reconnecting, and we had.

And honestly?

I almost didn’t want to go home tomorrow.

It was our final night on the road, with just one more day left of the abstinence rule Dr. Aldridge had made us promise to follow. Tonight, we were just chilling in the RV.

Most of the trip, we’d slept on the road, except for two nights—nights one and two—when we stayed under a roof at a lakeside lodge and then later a romantic boutique Inn.

The RV was perfect, definitely a hotel on wheels.

I was so glad I trusted Hassani on this.

The movie for the night was Strictly Business .

I’d never seen it, but Hassani had—many times—and he swore I’d love it.

After a quick shower and twisting my hair into chunky twists, I joined him in front of the flatscreen. We had a giant bowl of popcorn between us as we sat across from each other on the plush couch.

We’d popped three bags to make sure we had enough.

The RV was parked in a quiet, forested area inside an RV park.

The peace, the quiet, the stillness?

That was what I’d miss the most.

I tossed a kernel at Hassani between scenes, and every time, he caught it.

Which, of course, made me laugh.

I held my smile, locking eyes with him.

“What?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Nothing. This just reminds me of when we used to hang out in my room, just chillin’ and eating popcorn.”

He smiled too, nodding. “The last time we did this was weeks before graduation—when you were tutoring me for my final exam in that apartment you shared with Sunni.”

“The night we hooked up,” I added. “ Mm-hmm .”

“ Hmph .” His smile gradually faded. “That night was everything to me. I was so damn happy to be back inside you.”

I snorted.

He smirked. “You laugh but I’m serious.”

The movie was still playing, but it was just background noise now.

Because nothing else was as interesting as just talking with him.

“There was a moment where I felt like it was surreal,” he added.

“I know.” I nodded. “I didn’t think we’d ever do that again after prom night.”

“Me neither.”

For a moment, we got quiet.

Then, I asked, “Do you ever think of her and what y’all could’ve had if you forgave her?”

He turned his focus fully on me.

“Sienna.” I shrugged. “I mean… you two were engaged. She wasn’t just your girlfriend, so I’m sure?—”

“Nah, I don’t think of her in that way,” he said, shaking his head. “Because the whole time I was with her, I was thinking about you. And now that I have you? I can’t even imagine anyone else. On God, baby.”

I tossed a piece of popcorn into my mouth.

“Sometimes she crosses my mind, though,” he admitted. “But never in a what if way. Never in a what if I hadn’t found out about her and Marcus way, either. More like in a ‘ whew , that was a close one’ kind of way.”

I snickered then tucked my lips into my mouth. “Sometimes I wonder… if you would’ve still married her—if you hadn’t found out about Marcus.”

Hassani nodded slowly. “I would have.”

My stomach tightened.

“Then I would’ve regretted it.” He exhaled. “And been miserable, because she wasn’t the one but I would have kept forcing her to be.”

His eyes softened.

“You were always the one, A. Boogie.”

I couldn’t help smiling.

“All this talk about Sienna…” he mused. “And that night we hooked up before graduation—it just reminded me of something you shared with me back then.”

I arched a brow.

“Your greatest fear,” he said. “With falling in love.”

My brows stayed lifted. “My greatest fear?”

I had changed so much since college.

Sometimes, I didn’t even recognize myself.

I liked me back then.

But I loved me now.

“You told me you didn’t want to fall in love because you were afraid of losing yourself in it.”

“Oh.” I blinked hard. “Wow.” I jerked my head back. “You remembered that? What I told you?”

“I remember every personal thing you tell me, A.” He nodded. “And that ? What you said? It was hard to forget.”

I laughed softly. “I didn’t even remember that, and I said it.”

Hassani’s expression turned serious.

“You lived that fear, Ayla.”

I stilled.

The dialogue from the movie filled the silence.

Hassani sighed, looking away. “You lost yourself in my dream… and I was so caught up, I didn’t see it until now.”

I reared my head back.

That realization settled in.

Because I hadn’t seen it that way before.

But I did now.

“You gave up parts of yourself in our marriage.”

His eyes flicked to my camera.

“Photography.”

Then, they moved to my hands.

“Wanting a baby.”

We held each other’s gaze.

“Why did you do that?” Hassani’s light eyes darted between mine. “Why did you keep wanting a baby from me? You never said anything ?”

I released a weighted exhale. “You worked really hard to get this project, Hassani?—”

“Nah, man.”

Hassani closed the space between us, moving off the couch and onto his knees in front of me.

And just like that, my eyes started to water.

Tears welled beneath my lower lids.

Because I knew.

I knew exactly why I kept this from him.

Hassani had just made me realize something huge.

The very thing that kept me from serious romantic relationships in the past—the fear of losing myself, the way my mother had when my father died… the way Aunt Laurie had when she found out her husband was living a double life.

In a different form, that was the life I was living, too.

Keeping my desires hidden.

Holding my own heart hostage.

“I just thought it wasn’t the right time,” I told him. “It wasn’t a big deal at first. I haven’t felt this way the whole time. I promise. The baby fever just… slammed right into me that night at Bryant’s Greene Garden’s event.”

Hassani watched me closely.

“It wasn’t even him and his wife that made me want it,” I continued. “It was just… seeing what was possible.”