Page 140 of My Only

And that?

That hurt the most.

“Every night, since you started this project, has been hell for me.”

Ayla’s words. Words I could agree with but only understood from my point of view at the time…

They came roaring back with a vengeance.

Because I get it now, A. Boogie. I fucking get it.

But was I too late?

CHAPTER 15

Ayla

The rain outside pelted against the glass, creating a soft rhythm as it fell against the skylights. Aside from the melody of raindrops, the house was quiet… too quiet.

It was another day of me not speaking with Hassani. Another day of finding random things to do to keep my mind off him, and the beef we had.

Or, rather, the beef I had with him.

It took everything in me not to unlock the door for him that first night he arrived home after our fight—the night after I told him I wanted a divorce. The morning after I said those words, I made sure to leave the house early, before he could get up. I didn’t even have anywhere to go. I just got in my car, drove to the nearby mall, and sat in the parking lot until it opened.

Petty as all hell, but I wanted to prove a point.

For once, I felt like I had some power over a situation that just seemed to be getting worse.

I understood that the Greene Gardens Project was huge for Hassani. I’d been mindful of being a supportive wife. But somewhere along the way, I lost myself. Every decision I’d made ever since he took on this project had revolved around his schedule. Even our annual summer trip. There wasn’t one. I didn’t want to plan a getaway that would pull him away from work, even though I really wanted to go somewhere. Last year, we had to settle for a staycation in the city. And this year? I didn’t even bother planning anything. I knew Hassani wouldn’t have the time.

As shown by his many late arrivals home lately.

This morning would have been another one of those days where I left the house at dawn, but the steady rain kept me inside. I figured I wouldn’t be a punk about it and avoid my husband.

Even though yesterday morning was random as hell.

Having sex in the kitchen after not speaking to each other for a full day? Wild. But I missed him. A lot. I just hated feeling like I wasn’t being heard.

I woke up early today, but he had already left. I didn’t even hear him come home last night. The dinner I made still sat in the fridge. Untouched.

Did he even come home?

Was he with Harper again?

I shook my head, trying to push the thought away. Because I knew Hassani wasn’t cheating. I knew he wouldn’t.

He got a lot of attention from women, that part was true. And maybe another man would take advantage of that. But that wasn’t Hassani’s style.

I used to watch him in relationships. Single, he was a flirt. But in a relationship—at least the ones I remembered him being in, back in high school and college—he was a one-woman man. By choice. Loyalty was encoded in his DNA.

But still… anyone could give in to temptation just once. Even the most resilient monogamist.

I just couldn’t understand how and why he kept underestimating Harper.

Granted, I’d only met her once. I hadn’t been to Hassani’s office in Bryant Greene’s building, and I hadn’t cared to. But that one time I met her was enough.

That woman was bad news.

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