Page 120 of My Only

He finally looked away.

Studied the table.

A few solid balls left.

A whole lot of striped ones.

Evidence that I was having my ass handed to me.

In this game.

And in life.

“Ayla ain’t just your wife, Hassani.”

He bent over the table again.

Angled his cue stick.

Lined up his final shot.

“And while I may not have known her father Aden long before he started working under me in that North Tower…”

A brief pause.

A deep inhale.

“I made a promise to myself after that September 11th night.”

He lowered his voice.

“The night I saw Aden’s wife cry until she passed out from exhaustion on her living room couch.”

His grip on his cue stick tightened.

“I swore that night I’d always protect his daughter…”

A beat.

“The way I know he would have.”

Then, before he took the final shot…

He froze.

Glanced up at me one last time.

“Ayla is my one and only daughter, Hassani.”

His voice was low.

“And I will never, ever accept a new one.”

Then…

The last ball dropped.

And I closed my eyes.

---