Page 188 of My Only

As we approached TSA, I looked up at him, still in disbelief. “Saint Lucia, baby?”

He winked. “Saint Lucia, baby.”

The airport buzzed with its usual chaos.

Flight announcements echoing.

Travelers rushing to gates.

But inside, I felt light.

Like I was floating.

I was in a dream, living and loving every second of it.

Hassani and I grabbed our things after making it through TSA. He draped an arm over my shoulder as we headed to our gate, me talking a mile a minute, still riding the high of finding out Saint Lucia was our destination—completely unaware he’d slid my passport into his carry-on days ago before we left for our road trip.

Somewhere in the background noise, I heard a laugh.

A very familiar laugh—one I could pick out in even the loudest of places, including an airport.

I stopped walking immediately and froze.

My head turned toward the sound, my brows furrowing.

Hassani frowned. “What’s up?”

I heard it again.

And this time, I knew exactly who it belonged to.

My Aunt Laurie.

Standing at a coffee kiosk, laughing that signature, infectious laugh of hers.

The one that always reminded me of Jackée Harry’s.

“Oh my God… is that Aunt Laurie?!”

Hassani whipped his head around, following my gaze.

“That is her.” I inhaled a deep breath, cupped my hands around my mouth, and yelled, “Aunt Laurie!”

She turned her head, her long, sleek hair whipping through the air.

Her eyes widened, and that gigantic, pageant-winning grin she always had—the one that reminded me of Whitney Houston’s signature smile—took over her face.

I didn’t even think.

I took off running.

Aunt Laurie did the same, meeting me halfway, and when we finally collided, she wrapped her arms so tight around me I could barely breathe.

“Favorite Girl!” she shrieked. “What the fuck?!”

I hollered a laugh, stepping back to take her in.

My eyes scanned her, from her perfectly styled hair to the flowy, low-cut sundress she wore so effortlessly.

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