Page 155 of My Only

Because nothing else in this world mattered more than this.

Than her.

“Yes,” I groaned, my voice syncing with each deep stroke. “Yes, Ayla. Come on, baby… Come on…”

She exhaled a long, shaky breath, and I felt her unravel beneath me.

That sound. That feeling. It sent a pulse through me, and suddenly, I couldn’t hold back anymore.

My movements shifted from controlled to instinctive. Nothing calculated. Nothing measured. Just us.

I chased that feeling with her. Let it consume me. Let it take over.

My breath caught. My teeth clenched. My toes dug into the mattress as I drove deeper, staying longer in the greatest place on earth—right here, inside her.

And then, release.

A tremor ripped through me, taking me under an undulating wave of pleasure. With her.

By the time I remembered to breathe, I’d collapsed on top of her, pressing my face into her skin, inhaling her instead of air.

Her arms wrapped around me, tight, like she felt it too.

Like she needed this just as badly.

“Don’t leave me,” I whispered against her, my voice hoarse, raw. “Please, baby, don’t leave me.”

Tears filled her eyes as she whispered back, “I won’t. I won’t.”

I kissed them away. Every single one.

“Come upstairs, A. Please,” I begged, balancing on my forearms so I could see her. So she could see me. “Come to bed with me. I need you there. Badly.”

She nodded, her fingertips brushing tenderly against my face. “Okay.”

PART V

THE FOREVER HOME

A place built to last. Peace, permanence, and loving without fear…

CHAPTER 17

Ayla

The hum of the waiting room TV at my OB-GYN’s office filled the space, the muffled voices of a daytime talk show blending into the background noise. I sat near the receptionist's desk, flipping through a For The Culture magazine I’d grabbed off the table, though I wasn’t really reading. Just passing the time.

My eyes drifted to the stack of magazines beside me again. One caught my attention. Mommy Digest.

I hesitated. Then, before I could overthink it, I exchanged one magazine for the other, the glossy cover now resting in my lap.

I’d been coming to this OB-GYN since college, every summer, like clockwork. Same doctor. Same routine. Same annual conversation about renewing my birth control prescription.

But this year? This year felt different.

I ran my fingertips over the cover of the pregnancy magazine, my thoughts drifting back to two nights ago.

To Hassani.

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