HALF HER DEEN

46. 𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝒂 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚, 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒂 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓

"It'll be fun, Nur. After today, you'll want to go every day,"

Highly unlikely.

I have a lot of respect for people who take control of their physical health, commit to being active, and work hard to stay fit. It's impressive to see them put in the effort and take the necessary steps to prioritize their well-being. I genuinely admire that for them.

That being said, I'm not part of that group—nor do I have any desire to be. The idea of voluntarily subjecting myself to physical pain and exertion? Yeah, I'll gladly pass on that. It's just not my scene, and I'm perfectly okay with that. So why is Hassan doing this to me?

Hiking. This man is making—no, forcing—me to go hiking with him.

It was our fourth day in Greece, on the beautiful island of Corfu, and as much as it felt like paradise, hiking wasn't part of my ideal getaway. The blue waters of the Ionian Sea were crystal clear, and the island was a lush haven with green trees and plants everywhere you looked.

We'd spent the last few days exploring different parts of the island, and honestly, I was falling in love with Corfu. The charming little towns had narrow streets lined with old buildings that carried so much history in their faded colors and weathered stones. The food was incredible too—fresh seafood and traditional dishes that made every meal memorable. The whole island had such a laid-back vibe, the kind that made you want to stay forever. Even the locals had a warmth about them that was contagious.

But despite all this perfection, I still didn't want to hike. Wallah, not one bit. And he knows this.

He had been trying to get me into running since we got married, but after a few attempts, I'd given up, and so had he. Now, his new strategy was emotional blackmail—convincing me to hike with him under the scorching heat, knowing full well how much more uncomfortable I'd be with all the layers I had to wear. Still, I'd take this heat over the alternative, the heat that was much harder to escape. Yes, that heat.

His grin told me he knew he had won this round. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, tying his shoelaces. Meanwhile, I sat in a lounge chair across the room, still in my abaya, veil not yet on, with a pout firmly in place as I watched him.

When he finished, he glanced at his watch, then looked up at me, amused by my stubbornness. A chuckle escaped him, and he stood, walking over until he was right in front of me. Without a word, he knelt down, gently took my left foot, and placed it on his lap. He grabbed the shoes that were next to the chair and began slipping them onto my feet, one after the other, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Once he was done, he stood and took hold of my arms, pulling me up from my seat with gentle insistence. I stood reluctantly, still pouting as he watched me, another chuckle escaping his lips. He lifted his hand to my cheek, brushing his thumb across it speaking, his deep voice tender.

"I won't force you if you really don't want to go, baby. I just want us to spend every moment together, but I understand if you don't feel like it. It is really hot today, and I can't even imagine how uncomfortable you will feel under your hijab."

His thoughtfulness melted the pout off my face.

"No, don't mind me. Let me just put my hijab on quickly," I said, feeling lighter now.