Page 134 of My Only

Harper didn’t even flinch. She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again. Serene. Unbothered.

“I don’t care about any of that.”

My breath halted in my chest.

She doesn’t care?

“You don’t care?” I repeated slowly.

“No.” She shook her head, like she was clarifying something simple. “I see those things as means to an end.”

“Pardon me?”

She sighed. “I’m not used to wanting someone as much as I want you, Hassani.”

My head snapped back so fast, my neck cracked.

“I’ve been with successful men before. Plenty,” she added. “But none of them—not even one—is like you.”

I clenched my jaw. “I’m married, Harper. Married.”

“I know.” She was quick with it. “And… I don’t care.”

She scooted to the edge of her seat, bold now. Confident.

“Hassani.” She sighed. “You are too extraordinary to belong to just one woman. Let’s be real here.”

She tucked a loose wave of hair behind her ear.

“I’m not trying to replace Ayla,” she said, her voice soft. “I just want a little space in the world you’ve already built.”

I stared.

“No one has to know.” She shook her head, almost pleading. “I promise, I won’t say a thing.”

My eyes collapsed closed.

How could I be so fucking stupid?

Believing Harper was simply attracted to me was one thing.

But her creating fake problems to keep me late? Causing me to stress out unnecessarily over this project? Costing me time—precious time—away from Ayla?

Time I could have spent nurturing my marriage?

Now that shit was unforgivable.

My pulse pounded, hot and violent, thudding in my temples.

Harper wasn’t just playing games with work.

She was playing games with my fucking life.

And worst of all?

Ayla—my wife, my friend, my entire goddamn world—had been right about Harper all along.

And I didn’t listen.

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