Her Awakening

Chapter 39: Awakening to Confessions

After I said yes to Jalal, the whole world seemed to burst into celebration. The cheers from our families echoed in the air, and the smiles on everyone's faces were enough to fill my heart to the brim. I felt lighter, like a weight I didn't even know I was carrying had been lifted. It was official—I was engaged to the love of my life, surrounded by the people I loved most. It couldn't have been more perfect.

The evening unfolded with a beautiful meal. We sat at a long table under the stars, the warm breeze of Dubai swirling around us as our families mingled. Jalal's mother was sitting next to mine, the two of them swapping stories and already talking about wedding plans. Nadine and Yasmin were animatedly chatting with my cousins, and I was swept up in the joy of seeing everyone come together. It felt surreal, like a dream I didn't want to wake up from.

At one point, I FaceTimed my brother, who couldn't make it to Dubai for the proposal. He congratulated me with a broad grin, our relationship was still strained, but it was all so bittersweet, as I was wishing he could be here in person. Still, he promised he'd make it to the wedding, whenever it would be, and that was enough to calm my aching heart.

After the meal, the mood began to wind down, and I was sitting quietly, basking in the afterglow of the evening when Jalal leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Come with me, I need to talk to you."

The tone in his voice sent a small wave of nerves through me. His usual playful, confident demeanour was gone, replaced by something more serious. I nodded, curiosity prickling at me, and followed him as he led me to our room.

Once we were alone in the suite, the door shut behind us, Jalal turned to me, his expression still that mixture of nervousness and determination. "Melissa, there's something I need to tell you."

My stomach knotted. "What is it?"

"I haven't been completely honest with you," he said, his voice low, and his eyes searching mine. "I want us to go into this marriage with complete transparency, no secrets between us. I owe you that."

I felt my pulse quicken, fear creeping into the edges of my thoughts. "What do you mean?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

Jalal sighed, running a hand through his hair before meeting my gaze. "In the bedroom... I've been holding back. There's a side of me I haven't shown you."

I blinked, completely thrown off. Holding back? "I don't understand," I said, confused. "Are you saying there's something I'm missing?"

He nodded slowly. "Yes. I'm... I'm more dominant in the bedroom than what you've seen. Rougher, more controlling. I didn't want to scare you off, so I've held back. But now that we're going to get married, I don't want there to be any surprises."

My heart stuttered, a strange mix of curiosity and anxiety flaring up in my chest. "Dominant? You mean... like a sadist?"

His expression softened, and he stepped closer, taking my hands in his. "Not like that," he assured me. "I'm not into causing pain. It's more about control, trust. It's hard to explain without sounding like a cliché. But no, I don't get off on hurting you. It's about connection, power in intimacy, and pushing boundaries—but only with consent."

I hesitated, my mind flashing back to the few things I knew about this. "Like... Fifty Shades of Grey?" I ventured, feeling awkward.

Jalal chuckled, a genuine, deep laugh that eased some of the tension in the room. "I hated that movie," he said. "It completely missed the point. What I'm talking about isn't about contracts and cold rooms. There's a romance, an art, to the dynamic. It's about giving yourself to someone completely because you trust them more than anyone else in the world."

I could feel my pulse racing, a mix of curiosity and wariness bubbling inside me. "So... what does that mean for us?"

He smiled gently, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. "It means that I want you to know all of me before we get married. I don't want you to be shocked by this later. I want to be honest, and I want you to be comfortable."

Before I could respond, there was a sharp knock at the door. Startled, I stepped back as Jalal sighed, clearly frustrated by the interruption. The door opened, and in walked both our mothers, their faces set with purpose.

"You two," my mother began, eyeing us with a mix of amusement and sternness, "are not allowed to sleep in the same room until after the wedding."

I blinked, stunned. "What?"

"Tradition," Jalal's mother added, crossing her arms with a smug look. "It's for your own good. You're engaged now, and that means no more... well, you know what we mean."

Jalal groaned, his hand rubbing his forehead. "This is ridiculous. What happens when we get back to London? We live ten-minutes from one another!"

My mother shrugged, clearly enjoying the upper hand. "We'll take turns chaperoning. Your father's already volunteered to take the first few nights when you return."

I glanced at Jalal, stifling a laugh despite the awkwardness of the situation. "Mom, the wedding is months away! You can't be serious."

But they were. The determination in their eyes was undeniable, and as much as I wanted to argue, I knew this was a battle we weren't going to win. Jalal, equally frustrated, let out a sigh of defeat. "Fine," he muttered. "But this is absurd."

For the rest of the trip, we were constantly chaperoned. Even our romantic dates had a pair of watchful eyes trailing behind us. Despite the frustration, it became a running joke between us, and we found little ways to sneak moments of intimacy when no one was looking—shared glances, lingering touches, stolen kisses. It was a challenge, but it made the trip even more memorable.

In the meantime, we filled our days with adventures. We explored the best of Dubai with the kids—desert safaris, water parks, and family-friendly restaurants where the twins quickly charmed everyone they met. Markie and Melody loved every second of it, and despite the chaotic nature of the trip, I wouldn't have traded a moment of it for anything.

Even our "chaperoned" romantic dinners, though unconventional, were filled with laughter and love. And through it all, the knowledge of what Jalal had shared with me simmered in the back of my mind. I was curious, yes, but I also trusted him. He had been patient, honest, and loving—there was no part of me that doubted his intentions.

As the trip came to a close, I found myself more in love with Jalal than ever, and despite the challenges of the traditional expectations thrust upon us, I couldn't help but feel excited for the life we were building together.