Page 167 of My Only

Ayla shook her head, staring past me. Her jaw tightened.

“…I mean… I knew she was a problem, but damn, Hassani…” She exhaled, her shoulders rising and falling sharply. She pressed a hand to her forehead, looking away for a beat. When she turned back, her eyes were wide. Searching.

“She really did that?” she whispered. “Messed with your work just to keep you late there with her?”

I nodded, hating the confirmation. Hating that I let it happen. Hating even more that I waited this long to tell Ayla because I was still processing it myself. That—and because I was too embarrassed to admit I was wrong about Harper.

Ayla grunted, sitting up completely. “I told you about her.”

“You did, baby.” I swallowed hard. “You did.”

Ayla kissed her teeth and shook her head, her frustration mounting.

“So what?” she demanded. “You’re supposed to just keep working with her? Like nothing happened? Because her actions weren’t just unprofessional, Hassani. They were evil.”

“Very.” I nodded. “And no, I’m not working with her anymore. Bryant is reassigning her to another project—out of state.”

Ayla exhaled, rolling her shoulders back. “I mean… I guess that’s okay, but damn.” Her gaze softened. “How are you feeling about it? Are you okay?”

I huffed, rubbing my face. “It was scary, honestly. I could’ve lost my job. I didn’t think she’d take things that far. You warned me, and I didn’t listen. I thought I had it all under control… I was wrong.”

Ayla shook her head with a knowing smirk. “Oh, I knew you had nothing under control and I also knew Harper was insane the minute I met her.”

I arched a brow. “Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm.” She folded her arms. “Because anyone who says a D-Slam sculpture is must-have art? That person is crazy. They need a full psych evaluation—like, yesterday.”

I kissed my teeth. “A, be serious for a second.”

“Shit, I am!”

“A!”

Ayla bit her lip, trying to fight back her smile.

I exhaled. “She was the reason I wasn’t there that night for your mother’s dinner.”

Ayla held her breath. I caught the flicker of something in her eyes—something she was trying to push back.

“The flooring issue…” I ran a hand down my lips. “I didn’t have to stay late for that.”

Ayla shut her eyes and shook her head.

“It was my fault.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not.” I reached out, cradling the side of her face, brushing my thumb along her cheek. “It’s not fine. I fucked up. I’m sorry.”

Ayla didn’t look away. “You did fuck up,” she admitted. “I won’t lie to you—you fucked up so bad, Hassani. But…” She exhaled, her voice softening. “There are worse things you could’ve done. So… it happened.” She shrugged. “And, yeah—it felt like a gut punch and a hit to the chest at the same time.”

Her jaw tightened slightly. “I cried so hard that night, baby…” She rolled her eyes, keeping the welling tears in. “I hadn’t cried so hard in so long… but, it is what it is now, Hassani.”

I scanned her face, searching for any lingering resentment. But all I saw was acceptance.

“…But for real?” Ayla added, narrowing her eyes. “If I see her ass in the street, I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep it cute. For her sake, I hope I can.”

I grinned, leaning in. “Why, Mrs. Franklin… is that the Brooklyn coming out?”

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