Page 198 of My Only

Ayla closed her eyes and moved in even closer. She balanced herself on the arches of her feet to press her lips to mine. “My God, you’re amazing,” she said on my lips.

“Like attracts like,” I said back, pecking her twice. “Because baby you’re amazing, too.”

My hand was in hers as I walked us to the land where the villa would sit.

“We start building in a month,” I told her. “We are standing right now in our forever summer home.”

“Ayla wrapped her arms around me again, tighter this time, pressing her face to my chest as I closed my eyes.”

We had been lost, but we had found our way back.

Here, on this land we’d one day call our second home, I realized—we weren’t just healing.

We were building something new.

Something stronger.

Something that would cement our forever.

EPILOGUE

ONE YEAR LATER – EARLY SUMMER 2024

Hassani

I stood at the back patio door, staring out at the lake in front of me. The water lay still, but the trees standing tall in the distance swayed with the gentle breeze. The infinity pool sparkled ahead, and I just knew Ayla would flip when she saw how much it resembled the one in Saint Lucia.

Ding-dong!

The doorbell ringing pulled me from my thoughts. I turned on my Jordans and headed for the door. When I pulled it open, two movers stood on the other side. Behind them, another mover was lifting the gate at the back of the truck.

“Hassani Franklin?” one of the movers asked.

“That’s me.” I smiled. “How y’all doing today?”

“Good, good.” The mover nodded. “I’m Tony, and I’ll be handling the move today with my guys. Are you ready for us?” He smiled next. “We’ve got all the furniture for the rooms ready to unload and set up.”

“Music to my ears, man.” I stepped back, opening the front door wider. “Go for it.”

It was move-in day for the summer villa—the one that had once existed only as a vision and as unfinished sketches in my sketchbook.

“We’ll start with the living room,” Tony said, directing the other movers on where to place the couch for Ayla’s and my living room set. “Do you have an idea of how you want things arranged?”

“I’ve got something better.” I reached for my sketchbook, which was lying nearby, flipping it open to the page with the living room layout Ayla and I had worked on together. “This is exactly where everything should go.”

Tony’s blue eyes widened as he glanced at the sketch, then back at me. “Did you draw this?”

I nodded. “I did. I’ve been sketching this for a really long time.”

“Damn. You an artist or something?”

“An architect,” I replied proudly. “I designed the properties in this neighborhood—including the one we’re standing in right now.”

His jaw dropped. “Get out of here!”

“Hey, Tony,” one of the other movers called behind him. He and another mover held part of the sectional Ayla and I ordered. “Where we putting this, boss?”

Tony shook his head, snapping out of his awe, then chuckled. “Uh…” He glanced at the sketch again before turning to the mover. “Right here.”

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