Page 77 of My Only

But the truth was, doubt flickered beneath that agreement. The only reason we were here tonight was because he’d missed my work mixer. This wasn’t impromptu. This wasn’t just because. This was a stop on his sorry tour.

“Anyway,” I said, sitting up straighter. “We’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Looking forward to it,” Joslyn said warmly. “Enjoy yourselves.”

The moment I ended the call, Hassani asked, “Getting your usual?”

“Surf and turf,” I confirmed with a nod. “As always. You?”

“Aw, baby.” He winked. “You know I gotta be twins with you.”

I laughed, shaking my head.

I wanted to stay mad. He’d stood me up the night before. And even though I understood the reason, even though he’d explained everything, it still stung.

But I was doing my best to let it go. Because that’s what a mature, understanding wife would do.

I was lost in my thoughts when Hassani reached across the table, taking my hand in his.

I blinked down at our fingers before lifting my gaze to his.

The restaurant’s golden light reflected in his hazel-green eyes, making them glow. And just like that, I felt my frustration slipping through my fingers. I could never look this man in the eyes and stay upset.

He smirked, running his thumb over the back of my hand. “Am I doing good so far?”

I pressed my lips together, fighting back my own smile. “Mm-hmm.”

He was doing great.

Last night, I’d planned to give him the silent treatment for days. When I got home from the work mixer, I made myself something to eat, showered, and got into bed. But I didn’t sleep. I waited. For the sound of his car pulling into the driveway. For the soft thud of his footsteps climbing the stairs.

I’d been waiting up to vent. To ignore him. To be petty.

But Hassani wasn’t having it. And as much as I hated him missing my event, I couldn’t deny that I appreciated how deeply sorry he was.

And now, here we were—out to dinner on a school night. He was doing great.

Our server arrived, took our drink and food orders, and disappeared toward the kitchen.

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom and wash my hands,” Hassani said, pushing his chair back.

“Okay, I’ll go after you.”

As he disappeared down the hall, I turned toward the large windows, my gaze naturally drawn to the Freedom Tower. There was always something comforting about it—even though I never had the chance to visit the Twin Towers when they still stood, and while my father worked in the North Tower. Maybe that’s why this part of the city didn’t trigger me. Maybe it grounded me instead.

A sudden buzz rattled against the table.

I glanced down, fully prepared to ignore it—until I saw the name on the screen.

Harper.

I jerked my head back.

Checked my phone for the time. 8:07 p.m.

Why the hell was she texting my husband after hours?

A prickle of unease skated down my spine.

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