Page 170 of My Only

I took her hand and interlocked our fingers, lifting it to my lips to kiss the back of her hand. Then I gently pulled her closer, and she melted against me, settling against my biceps.

We hugged for a while, her fingers tracing slow circles against my back.

I lowered my lips to her forehead, leaving a simple kiss there.

And for the first time in a long time… I felt at home again.

CHAPTER 19

Ayla

“Oh my God,” I held my hands out in front of me, wiggling my fingers. “I have no more heart in my chest because it has completely melted away. Give me my baby!”

The soft coos from my friend Sunni’s daughter, Amara, sounded like my favorite melody as Sunni handed her to me. She was five months old and so damn chunky.

“I could eat you,” I said, burying my nose in her tiny neck.

“Uh-uh, don’t eat my baby.”

I giggled, holding Amara close to my heart and giving her a sweet hug. “Little princess, I would’ve been completely heartbroken if I didn’t get to see you before my trip.”

I inhaled Amara’s scent again, sighing at the soft, powdery sweetness.

“She smells so good.” I pressed my lips to her chubby cheek. “You smell amazing, girl. What you got on?”

Sunni laughed. “Here,” she said, tossing a burp cloth over my shoulder. “Cover yourself with this because Amara can go from cute to eww real fast.”

I shook my head. “I’m sure your spit-up smells like roses. Don’t it? Freshly picked too, huh, girl?”

“Tell me you’re an auntie without telling me you’re an auntie.” Sunni kissed her teeth. “Because only y’all would say some silly stuff like that.”

I bounced Amara in my arms, completely lost in her gummy smile and big, bright eyes. “Baby girl… you hear something?”

Sunni let out a laugh, her face lifting to the ceiling. “Not y’all got me feeling like the third wheel in my own house.”

It was one of those soft, sun-baked July days when I stopped by Sunni’s house in Jersey to visit her and my goddaughter, Amara.

Sunni had been a stay-at-home mom since she found out she was pregnant last year—but the “stay-at-home” part barely applied to her. She and Amara were always out and about, especially during the summer. I was just glad my girl made time for me to see my goddaughter before I left for my trip.

“The last time I saw you,” I said to Amara, “you were a little, itty-bitty one-week-old newborn.”

“You see her all the time via FaceTime,” Sunni reminded me.

I brought Amara closer, pressing another kiss against her cheek. “I can’t kiss her like this via FaceTime.”

Amara giggled and kicked her little legs as if she understood me.

Amara was sitting on my lap when she grabbed my finger and held onto it. Something about that made my chest tighten with longing.

God, I wanted this.

We were sitting in Amara’s playroom. I had been at Sunni’s for the past hour, but I needed to be back upstate New York before a certain time to rest up. The next day was the first day of Hassani and my road trip.

I was both excited and nervous about it. I had never been in an RV in my life.

When Amara woke up from her nap, Sunni and I moved from the solarium to the playroom, and that’s where we stayed as I held Amara in my arms.

Sunni’s home had transformed after she got pregnant with Amara. The space went from neat and stylish to warm and inviting—filled with all the little signs of her happy family life. I had always loved coming here, but today, being surrounded by baby toys and family photos, it felt… different.

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