Page 199 of My Only

His reaction was one I’d grown used to since the start of Ayla’s and my summer home project. I had been here for every step of the build, checking in on the progress daily after work and spending weekends with Ayla overseeing details when she was off from school.

I watched as the movers carried in our furniture, setting the pieces down—the side tables in the living room, our king-sized bed in the master bedroom. Then, I stepped outside onto the patio, letting them do their thing.

So much had changed in a year.

A year ago, I didn’t know if I’d ever get the chance to build this villa, let alone stand on its patio. My mind drifted back to the day I came here, when this spot was nothing but dirt and rocks. I had prayed on this very soil, asking for the chance to make my wife happy again, to live the life we had always dreamed of.

I smiled, pressing my hand against the patio railing, my eyes following the gentle ripples on the lake. The tranquil waters, as Ayla called them.

And in that moment, I realized something.

God had answered every single one of my prayers.

Even my wish for a baby… the one I had whispered in a new prayer the moment Ayla told me she wanted one.

I rubbed my hands together absentmindedly, wringing them a little before pressing a hand to my chest, a nervous tick I’d developed lately.

Ayla was pregnant.

And while I was excited as hell, I was nervous, too.

I wanted this. God knew I wanted this. But more than anything, I wanted to be a great father. I had one, and my life had been blessed exponentially because of how great my dad is. I wanted to be that for my son, too.

I had cried that January morning when Ayla’s pregnancy test came back positive. Cried even harder when the doctor confirmed we were having a boy months later. And while I was thrilled, I couldn't shake the fear of the unknown.

The only thing that kept me from worrying too much was Ayla.

She was made to be a mother.

She had always loved children—babysitting as a side hustle back in high school, being the kind of teacher her preschoolers adored. I knew she would excel at it.

But me?

I had designed homes. Built entire communities. But I had no blueprint for fatherhood.

What if I messed this up?

I knew figuring it all out would be an adventure. But I looked forward to embarking on that adventure with Ayla. Plus, there wasn’t a single day that went by when she didn’t reassure me how amazing of a father I would be.

And whenever I thought about her confidence in me, my anxiety always faded.

She had always been supportive, even as I worked toward becoming the principal architect of the Greene Gardens Project.

Speaking of which, things had been running smoothly at work since Harper was long gone.

Issues were minimal, and whenever one did pop up, resolving it was never stressful. My team was excellent, and we were far ahead of schedule.

Harper didn’t quit like Bryant had hoped, but she was out of our hair like he promised. I rarely thought about her anymore. She was just a name in my past, where she belonged.

Greene Gardens was now open to new residents and business owners. There was still plenty of work left to do, but so far, everything looked beautiful.

It was exactly what I had envisioned with my team. What I had envisioned myself.

I turned to look inside the house through the patio’s glass doors, my heart swelling with excitement.

The movers were placing brand-new furniture exactly where it belonged, Tony glancing down at my sketchbook and pointing out placements based on what Ayla and I had mapped out.

Life was unfolding exactly how I had imagined.

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