Page 89 of My Only

“You’re doing great,” I whispered, placing another kiss against his shirt before returning to the shrimp. “I knew you would.”

With dinner done and plated, we sat at the kitchen table, wasting no time before diving in.

“Mmm,” Hassani groaned, leaning back in his chair, eyes closed in satisfaction. “Damn, that’s good.”

I giggled, forking another bite of pasta into my mouth. “It is.”

Like I said, it felt good having him home before night fell. Cooking, joking. Just being.

I wanted to hold onto this moment, to pretend things were as simple as they had always been. But deep down, I knew better. Something was different. Something I wasn’t saying. Something he wasn’t saying, either.

I pushed the thought aside.

Tonight is good. Keep it that way, I thought to myself.

But then, Hassani’s phone vibrated against the table, the screen lighting up between us.

I wasn’t even trying to look, but my eyes landed on it anyway.

Harper.

My stomach knotted.

I wanted to ignore the feeling, to pretend I was overreacting. But lately, it felt like she was everywhere. And I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it or if I needed to be paying more attention.

Unlike before, this time her message showed right on the lock screen. I didn’t even have to snoop.

Harper: Hope you’re finally getting a second to relax. I can’t stop thinking about our discussion earlier… You always have the best ideas. Made my day, thank you. It’s breaking my heart that I couldn’t pick your brain for a little longer…

The words blurred together after that. My stomach twisted.

I lifted my gaze to Hassani, and he was already looking at me. Not at his phone. At me. His lips parted slightly like he was about to explain, but after a pause—just a little too long—he finally said…

“She had a miscalculation in one of her interior layouts.” He reached for his red wine. “I walked her through adjustments. That’s what she’s texting about.”

“Hmph.” I huffed and took a sip of my wine.

I wanted to say more.

Why now? Couldn’t this have waited until work tomorrow?

But I bit my tongue.

Because it was little things like this.

Little things that would bother anyone with sense.

Little things that, if I said anything about, would make me sound ridiculous.

So I said nothing.

Instead, I reached for my glass again and gulped down another sip.

I never brought up Harper texting Hassani that night at Vernon’s. Never told him I’d unlocked his phone and saw that she’d been texting him since the day they met.

I hadn’t needed to.

Because after that night, she hadn’t texted outside of work. At least… not to my knowledge.

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