Page 98 of My Only

Tonight had been hell.

Between the stress of working late and the growing pressure to keep the Greene Gardens Project on schedule, I was teetering on the edge. And this was only the first few phases of the project.

That was not a good sign.

I pulled into the driveway and noticed Ayla’s car parked.

I figured she’d already be inside, but as I pulled up beside her car, expecting to see the house lights dimmed, I was surprised to find her still sitting in her car behind the wheel.

I shifted into park, peering through the glass, and the look she shot me made me jerk my head back.

I was ready to lower my window and say something, but before I could, Ayla shoved her driver’s side door open, stepped out, and slammed it behind her.

Didn’t say a word.

Didn’t even glance my way.

Just stormed toward the house, walked up the stone path, and…

SLAM.

The door shut behind her with enough force to shake the frame.

I exhaled through my nose, shutting my eyes.

Fuck.

I was not in the mood for this.

Not tonight.

I ran a hand down my mouth, willing the tension in my body to ease as I grabbed my laptop bag and stepped out of the car.

I tried to leave the office early. Ayla had been reminding me about this dinner at her mother’s for weeks. She said she mentioned it even earlier than that, but honestly? I couldn’t remember.

Things had been chaotic. The project was at a critical stage, and keeping everything on track meant long hours.

But I did try to leave.

I even told my team earlier in the day that I had to go, but then…

“The vendor sent the wrong tiles for the community center flooring,” Harper informed me, dropping a folder onto my desk.

I let out a slow breath, already feeling the headache forming behind my eyes.

“I really think this can wait,” I grumbled, already reaching for my bag. “I need to get out of here.”

“You have to approve the alternative,” Harper insisted, nudging the papers toward me. “You need to review the swatches now.”

I clenched my jaw.

“Damn,” I groaned.

“Ayla will understand,” Harper added casually, giving me one of those looks. “She has to. She knows how huge your role is here. It trumps a dinner. No matter how important she thinks it is.”

I inhaled sharply.

“No one truly understands the weight of this project like you and I do,” she went on, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “But they will when they see what we create together.”

---