Love's Slave (manxman)

Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Jameel

My focus was split between running my fingers over the luxurious swatches Farrah provided for me to browse through for one of her newest Kaftan designs and my current situation with Kamal. I've been fitted, measured, pinned, and adjusted to within an inch of my life. Ever since I gave my consent to walk in the company's upcoming fashion show, Farrah and her team of designers went from zero to sixty within a matter of weeks, producing design after design for clothing made specifically for me. Farrah explained that my looks would not only emphasize the designs but would also make me a star of the show, and honestly, that's what scared me the most.

The shy part of me doesn't want that kind of attention. Still, there is something about the clothes, the different textures, the styles, and the ability to switch from the more masculine pieces to the obviously feminine fashions, that made me feel a sense of freedom I've never felt before. For once, I get to choose who I want to be, just as much as not choosing whether I want to identify as either gender at any given time. I get to go with the flow and be myself, going with whatever makes me feel comfortable enough to want to be seen and admired, especially by my soon-to-be fiancé.

Dropping the expensive silks into my lap, I covered my mouth with my hands and squealed for the umpteenth time behind my trembling fingers. Kamal, the kindest, sexiest, and most intriguing male Allah has brought into my life, wanted me as his husband. HE LOVES AND WANTS ME! Most days, I am still in a state of shock over it. If I hadn't heard it from his own mouth, I would swear I was being punished by the universe all over again. The cruelty of having someone so amazing see past the degradation and the vileness of what happened to me, and still see me as someone precious, only to have it taken away, would be the end of me. It isn't even me being dramatic. It's a fact. If I lost Kamal and his fantastic family, I would never be able to recover from it.

"Jameel, Darling. Have you decided on the color for the Hijab to go with the evening gown we discussed earlier?" Farrah breezed into the room with her arms full of notes and pallets of color. She strolled over to the desk and placed the load down before elegantly spinning around and fixing her excited gaze on me.

My eyes traveled down to the pile of material sitting in my lap and then back up to hers. "Um...not really," I mumbled before releasing a deep sigh. I've had so many questions running through my head over the last few weeks since that afternoon in Kamal's condo, where he declared his desire to be my husband to my face.

"Oh, Sweetie. Are you okay?" Farrah asked as she floated to my side and took the chair opposite mine.

"I don't even know how to answer that question. Physically, I am okay. Emotionally and mentally, I'm confused." I can literally feel the spike in my anxiety already. I want to get a better understanding of my situation with Kamal, but I don't even know where to begin. My thoughts are so jumbled that I can't even think of a way to form the questions I want to ask. It feels a little embarrassing to ask Kamal's parents for clarification on the things I like, so I'm hesitant to do so. It's like asking my own parents about...ugh. I can't even voice it. I could feel my cheeks heating as I blew out a frustrated breath.

Pressing my cold fingers between the warm palms of her hands, she looked me in the eyes with nothing but concern and sincerity shining from the depths of her chocolate-brown gaze. The dark eyeliner accentuating her eyes made the dark orbs sparkle under the fluorescent lights over our heads. "You know you can always talk to me about anything your little heart desires, or if you don't feel comfortable talking about certain topics with me, you can always talk to your therapist. We are all here for you. Kamal would love nothing better if you laid your every thought and burden at his feet." She winked as my cheeks went warm all over again.