Page 45 of My Only

When I was younger, I used to dream of traveling the world like she did—hopping from country to country, collecting stories instead of things.

But now?

My life with Hassani was my adventure. Steady, secure, and exactly what I’d always wanted.

I’d called Aunt Laurie at the perfect time… just before she boarded a flight to the Mediterranean.

“I haven’t seen you since last summer,” I said, heading toward the kitchen. “We’re in October now. That’s over a year. And you know how I get when I don’t see my Aunt for a while.”

She giggled.

“You laugh, but I’m serious, Aunt Laurie.”

“Then come to Mexico.”

I rolled my eyes. “Aunt Laurie.”

“What?” she teased.

“The last two times I made plans to visit, you said you were traveling.” I shook my head. “You’re not even home long enough for me to come. You’re not even home now! So please, stop inviting me.”

She laughed. “Okay, touché. You got me there.”

“At this rate, the only way I’ll see you is if I grow wings and fly alongside the planes you insist on hopping on every other week.”

Her laughter deepened.

Aunt Laurie was officially retired—or semi-retired, as she liked to put it. She still picked up gigs as an Independent Fashion Buyer if the price was right.

After her divorce, she realized she loved her freedom more than any man. She packed her things, traveled the world, and eventually settled in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico.

…Whenever she could sit still long enough.

I’d tried solo traveling before, but it always felt lonely.

Now I just lived vicariously through Aunt Laurie.

“What can I say?” she sighed. “I don’t like to sit and wait. Life’s too short for that—even waiting for you to come visit me in Mex-i-co.”

I snorted a laugh.

In the background, I heard an airport announcement over the speakers.

“Are you at your gate?” I asked, stepping into the kitchen.

And that’s when I saw something that made me jerk my head back.

“I am,” she confirmed. “I’m about to board my flight. I’ll call you next week.”

“Okay.” I blinked; my eyes locked on something new in the kitchen. Something that wasn’t there that morning. “I love you. Have a safe flight.”

“Thank you, Favorite Girl. I love you too.”

The call ended, but my confusion didn’t.

“What in the hell?”

I took slow steps forward, closing the distance between myself and this… thing.

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