Page 29 of My Only

I looked up just as Ayla held up a pair of my Jordans.

“These are the fifteenth Jordan sneakers I’ve pulled from a box. Fifteenth.”

I did a double take when I realized she was holding up my Concord 11s.

“Aye, aye.” I jumped to my feet. “Don’t hold them like that. Got the soles too close to the white upper, baby.”

She pursed her lips, eyes amused.

I gently took them from her. “These are considered the most beautiful Jordans ever made.” I marveled at them, taking in the sleek black patent leather, the crisp white upper. “You gotta hold them with respect, you know? Talk nice to ‘em.”

Ayla snorted a laugh as I set them down beside her. “Well, then, talk nice to my books because the same love you got for your sneakers is the same love I have for my books. But double. Got it?”

I grinned, hands raised in surrender. “Aight. I got it.”

Just then, the playlist restarted.

A new song.

A familiar song.

The opening melody hit the air, and we froze.

Case’s “Happily Ever After.”

Our song.

The song we had danced to during our first dance as husband and wife.

The one our steel drum band had played flawlessly at our wedding.

Slowly, we turned to each other.

The melody moved toward the first verse.

Neither of us spoke. We didn’t have to.

I just held out my hand and she took it without hesitation.

I pulled her into me, her body molding perfectly against mine as I slid an arm around her waist.

She melted into me, the way she always did, as we swayed to the song.

We danced in the middle of our oversized living room, surrounded by unopened boxes.

None of it mattered.

Not with the woman of my dreams pressed against me.

Not with our hearts beating in sync.

If perfection were a moment, it would be this.

Because in that wordless time, I heard everything. And I felt even more.

Our laughter faded into something deeper.

Something so damn beautiful.

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