HALF HER DEEN

38. 𝙒𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙗𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙅𝙖𝙘𝙠?

As Hassan drove further, I began to notice that we weren't heading into the city as usual. Instead, the scenery started to change, moving toward the outskirts, and with each passing mile, my excitement grew. The destination was still a mystery to me, but I trusted Hassan enough to know that he had something special planned. I hadn't bothered asking him where we were going because I knew he would simply avoid the question in his typical fashion.

We drove for another twenty minutes, the car filled with a comfortable silence, the soft recitation of the Quran playing in the background. The peacefulness of the moment was a stark contrast to the bubbling anticipation inside me. Finally, the car slowed as we pulled up to a dock, and I turned to Hassan with a questioning look. But he only smiled, a small, knowing grin, before turning off the ignition.

Without a word, he got out of the car, closed his door, and walked around to my side. Opening the door for me, he extended his hand, his eyes twinkling with excitement. I placed my hand in his, letting him help me out of the car. He locked the car and, with our hands still clasped together, guided me forward toward the entrance of the dock.

As we walked along the wooden deck, my mind raced with questions. The scent of the sea breeze filled the air, and I could hear the gentle lapping of the water against the boats. The dock was lined with an array of different vessels, each unique in its design and purpose. Some were small and sleek, while others were grand and luxurious, the kind you see in movies or on postcards. I couldn't even begin to count them all.

The waves were calm and blue, their surface reflecting the clear sky above. Birds chirped overhead, adding to the peaceful ambiance. The sun was bright but pleasantly warm, casting a golden glow on everything around us.

Finally, we reached the end of the dock, where a tanned caucasian man stood waiting. He was dressed casually in a polo shirt and shorts, a pair of sunglasses perched on his head. His posture was relaxed, but there was an air of professionalism about him. As we approached, he smiled and extended his hand to Hassan.

"Mr. Musa, good to see you again," the man greeted warmly as they shook hands. I just looked forward in confusion as to how Hassan would have known this stranger.

"Good to see you too, Rob," Hassan replied with a nod, his tone friendly yet businesslike.

Rob then turned to me with a polite smile. "And this must be your lovely wife," he said, giving me a respectful nod. I greeted him politely in return.

After the brief introduction, John reached into his pocket and pulled out a small set of keys, handing them over to Hassan.

"Everything's ready as you requested," John said. "You'll find her just down that way," he added, gesturing toward a sleek, white yacht docked nearby.

My eyes widened in surprise and awe as I finally realized what Hassan had planned. He had rented a yacht for us—a private escape on the water.

Hassan sported a smile as he guided me along. I followed him in speechless awe, my eyes taking in the scene before me with a mixture of wonder and disbelief.

"H-Hassan, I don't even know what to say," I stammered, my voice barely more than a whisper as I struggled to find the right words.

He glanced back at me, his smile only widening. "We have all day," he said cheekily, his tone light and playful. "I'll wait."

We finally arrived at the front of the stunning yacht, my eyes looking every which way.

The vessel was magnificent, gleaming under the sun's rays, its polished exterior reflecting the calm, blue water below. The gentle sound of the waves lapping against the hull added to the serene atmosphere, making everything feel almost dreamlike.