[XI]

Jadwa sat there, her body cold from the words she just heard, an ill feeling growing in her chest. Did he just warn her? She had deleted everything, listened to him, and did what he wanted because she thought it was him just being jealous. She found it cute when they spoke on the phone, not knowing things had escalated to where they were now.

Before Jadwa's thoughts could go further, Ameerah came in with an expression of concern. "Jadu!" Ameerah entered, trying to make sense of the situation, but Jadwa's expression confirmed it all for her.

Jadwa's eyes darted from the wall to Ameerah before she blinked and looked down.

"What happened?" Ameerah rushed to sit next to Jadwa.

"Nothing," Jadwa whispered, still unable to process what he had said.

"You can't say nothing. I just saw Ya Moh, and I can clearly tell there's something," Ameerah insisted.

"He said I should get ready, we are leaving now," Jadwa said, recalling his exact words.

"Me yafaru? (What happened?) Did you argue with him?" Ameerah asked, her eyes searching Jadwa's face.

"He called me earlier, saying I should take down all my pictures, including the ones you all posted. I took mine down and left the ones with you guys, and I obviously can't meet Lily and everyone to delete everything. It makes no sense," she explained, her voice rising with anger as she spoke. "He asked someone to call me, and I was trying to explain and, you know, try to calm him down and talk him out of it. Then he got pissed," Jadwa huffed.

Ameerah nodded in understanding, urging Jadwa to continue.

"That's all. It's all about what I wore, but why didn't he have an issue with it earlier?" Jadwa scoffed, sniffing back tears as she remembered how he had kissed her cheeks and even complimented her. "I need to know where all this is coming from," Jadwa said, getting up.

"Jadu, let this slide, please," Ameerah said, sitting her back down. "I know how annoying this is and hurtful, but please don't try to argue with him, okay? There are better ways to handle this than losing your temper."

"I just need to know," Jadwa said frustratingly, not at Ameerah but at herself. Why were her eyes swelling with tears over what he did to her? For all she cared, she didn't even have feelings for him. She had just wholeheartedly accepted the marriage and was beginning to feel at peace with him, and then he just switched like that on her.

"It's not worth it, I promise you, Jadu. It's only going to get worse," Ameerah advised, and Jadwa took a deep breath to calm herself.

"This is a man that can't even function without you, a man whose world revolves around you, so act like it," Ameerah said, making Jadwa look at her.

Ameerah smiled and held Jadwa's hands. "At the end of the day, he's just a man, and you know exactly what to do to make sure this never happens again," Ameerah said, making Jadwa chuckle a little.

"When will you change, Ameerah?" Jadwa eyed her.

"Never," Ameerah smiled sheepishly, and Jadwa got up, fixing her veil.

"You should get going. We will delete everything," Ameerah said, earning an apologetic smile from Jadwa.

Jadwa nodded, not wanting to say more than she had already. Left to her, she'd repost those pictures and see the worst that would happen, but since Ameerah spoke to her, she'd rather not just throw her words out the window.

Jadwa took her time touching up her makeup just to pass the time and grabbing her bag. The event had just gotten interesting, and he was dragging her home. She scoffed and loosely draped the veil on one arm before walking out.

Immediately, she looked around and found him standing by the far end of the wall with his friend, Ibrahim. Jadwa walked slowly to their side, keeping a little distance of a few steps before throwing a friendly smile at Ibrahim. It was the first time she had laid her eyes fully on him, taking in his appearance because she didn't even want to glance at Muhammad for a second.

Ibrahim was tall, incredibly tall, and his huge build added to his giant-like appearance. He had a very deep complexion and a face that could pass as her husband's brother. They almost looked alike. He was a good-looking guy, and she understood why all the girls inside the house kept him at the top of their lists, but honestly, he was scary-looking to an extent. She watched as he shook his friend's hand and started walking towards her.

[XII]

"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice barely a murmur.

Jadwa swiveled her head towards the familiar glint of his car in the distance, a barely concealed eye roll escaping her. "Let's go," she mumbled, the words barely audible, did he even hear her?

They fell into an icy silence as he walked beside her, walking to the car. Jadwa reached it first, her practiced hand hovering over the passenger door before he could reach it. Sliding in, she clicked her seatbelt into place before he even approached, her gaze glued to her phone screen, using it as a shield against the tension crackling between them.

The engine roared to life, and she could feel his stare burning into her side. Ignoring the prickle of self-consciousness, she continued her rapid-fire replies, each tap a tiny rebellion.

"Baby, listen," he sighed, frustration lacing his voice as his hand hovered over the gear shift.

Jadwa pretended not to hear, the phone a comforting barrier between them. When a beat of silence followed, she felt his hand brush against hers. Her fingers remained stubbornly unresponsive, phone clutched tightly in her other hand. Finally, she lifted her eyes to meet his, a silent challenge.

"Jadwa—" he began, but her voice cut through his.

"Can we just go home? I'm not feeling well," she said plainly, her voice devoid of warmth. Her hand drifted back to the phone, a safe haven.

Imran, defeated, sank into the driver's seat. The usual speed he favored was replaced by a sluggish crawl, mirroring the heavy atmosphere in the car. Jadwa scrolled through apps with growing disinterest, the silence stretching into an uncomfortable eternity. Finally, she leaned her head against the cool glass of the window, yearning for the comfort of her own space.

Relief washed over her as they neared their street, the familiar sight of their gate a beacon of normalcy. But then, the car veered off course. Jadwa swallowed the sharp retort that rose in her throat, opting for a silent roll of the eyes and a tightly shut mouth.

"Jadwa," he called softly. She averted her gaze, pressing her body against the door as if willing herself invisible.

His tone sharpened slightly. "Jadwa."

A single eyebrow arched in response, a silent question hanging in the air.

"Fushi kikeyi dani? (Are you upset with me?)" he asked, his words laced with a hint of desperation. Jadwa turned away, her eyes drawn to the blur of trees outside.

"I'm talking to you, Jadwa," he said, his voice strained. She squeezed her eyes shut, a vivid memory flashing through her mind the jerk of his hand pulling away from hers.

Confusion clouded her expression. He'd been so angry, so withdrawn after the incident. Why the sudden change?  A surge of anger flared, hot and unwelcome. The evening with her family, the laughter and shared moments - all stolen by his actions.

"Look at me," he commanded, his hand reaching out to cup her chin.

Jadwa flinched at his touch, her gaze dropping to her lap.

"Let's talk, baby," he pleaded, the urgency in his voice a stark contrast to his earlier coldness. But in that moment, a storm of emotions brewed within her, threatening to erupt.

"Take me home. I'm tired," she forced out, her voice betraying a calmness that felt foreign.

A tight smile played on Imran's lips. He reached for her arm, but she recoiled, the hurt flashing in her eyes a stark contrast to her feigned composure. "Banaso! (I don't like this!)" she almost cried, a tremor in her voice betraying the vulnerability she desperately tried to hide. Tears welled up, blurring her vision. No man had ever dared to treat her this way.

Unfazed, Imran held his ground, his gaze flitting away for a moment before returning to her. "I don't want to talk to you! Leave me alone!" she said, snatching her arm back. A flicker of surprise crossed his features, quickly masked by a stoic expression.

Imran raised his hands in defeat, a deep sigh escaping his lips. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he muttered, "Toh na kyale ki, sorry, (I've left you alone, sorry)" before starting the car. He drove in silence, the air thick with unspoken words.

Jadwa pretended not to notice him, her gaze fixed on the road. The moment they arrived, she lunged for the door handle, only to find it locked. Frustration contorted her features as she met his gaze. A small, apologetic smile played on his lips. One more minute

One more minute trapped in this car felt like an eternity.  Jadwa gritted her teeth, willing herself to remain calm.

"This is for you, this is for your sisters, and share this with people at home," he said, his voice softer now, holding out three envelopes, hers the biggest.

A humorless scoff escaped her lips. Did he think money could erase the hurt? "It's your goron Sallah," he stated and her eyes narrowed.

"Thank you, but no. Can you please unlock the car?" she requested, her voice laced with forced politeness.

"Only if you take it," he countered, his gaze unwavering.

Jadwa, desperate to escape the suffocating atmosphere, snatched all three envelopes. The click of the unlocking door was music to her ears. Without a word, she flung herself out of the car, the envelopes clutched tightly in her hand.

Before slamming the door shut, she kept  the envelopes back onto the passenger seat, the envelopes scattering across the leather. The look of surprise on Imran's face was a that of satisfaction in the darkness.

Jadwa stormed towards the house, her silhouette disappearing into the night. Imran watched her go, a wave of regret washing over him. He had messed up, big time.  Just as Ibrahim had warned.  Sighing deeply, he started the car, the engine growling to life. He needed to fix this, and it wouldn't be easy.

[XIII]

The night crawled by for Jadwa. The girls' chatter about the fun event only intensified her simmering anger. As she finished her chores, two missed calls from Imran mocked her from the phone screen. A scoff escaped her lips as she switched it to silent mode. Just then, Ameerah barged in.

"Jadu," Ameerah sighed, dropping an envelope on the bed. It was the Eid gift.

Ameerah's hands rested on her hips, taking in Jadwa's tense silence. When their eyes met, Ameerah burst into laughter, offering a high five. Jadwa, despite herself, found a flicker of amusement in their silent exchange.

"He said to give you these," Ameerah explained, the laughter catching slightly.

"I'm not taking it. Give the others theirs, but please return this," Jadwa said, pushing the envelope back.

"Why?" Ameerah asked, brows furrowed.

Jadwa shrugged, a bitter taste in her mouth. Did he think money could erase the way he treated her? "He doesn't know how to apologize," she mumbled. "Shoving cash at me won't make me forget."

"I won't take it back," Ameerah said firmly. "If there's a problem, sort it out yourselves. I'm not willing to be dealt with this blessed Eid." A serious note crept into her voice.

Who did she marry? Is he bipolar? He seems quiet normally, but everyone seems a little scared of him

Jadwa slumped back on the bed, speechless. Ameerah left, leaving her alone with the unwelcome envelope and a tangled mess of emotions. Sleep, when it finally came, offered no solace.

The next morning, Jadwa forced herself into her usual  routine. She sat down and the woman started braiding her hair her thoughts drifted for the next two hours to everything and nothing while her hair was woven into small beautiful two step style. 

She was done and still hadn't seen Anaya and Zarah and decided to check on them after thanking the hairdressers.
Pushing open their door, she found the room strewn with games, Anaya and Zarah fast asleep. A playful smile tugged at her lips as she tapped them awake. Clearly, they'd been up all night talking and paying games.

"Get up and shower," Jadwa instructed gently. "We're going out for ice cream, and you need your hair braided."

Back in her room, Jadwa slipped into a sleek black jumpsuit, sunglasses perched on her nose. Admiring her long small braids in the mirror before putting a veil loosely, she spritzed on her perfumes and grabbed her phone. Six missed calls from Imran stared back at her. A pang of something akin to longing twisted in her gut, but she squelched it, snapping a few pictures instead.

For two hours, she scrolled through social media, ignoring the growing urge to call him back. Finally, Ameerah's call to come downstairs sent her moving.

The car ride was filled with chatter, mostly between Anaya and Jadwa. A sudden ringtone pierced the air, and Anaya, who was seeing jadwa's photos, spotting the name flashing on the screen, grinned and passed the phone to Jadwa.

"Hello," Jadwa answered cautiously.

"Hello, Assalamu Alaikum," came his deep voice.

"Wa'alaikumus Salam," she replied, her tone neutral.

"I've finally been able to reach you. How are you?"

"Alhamdulillah, and you?" she asked politely.

"I'm good too. Out with the girls?"

"Yeah, getting ice cream," she said simply.

"Okay, share the location with me now."

Jadwa hesitated. A part of her yearned to see him, but the anger still simmered. "Alright then," she finally said before hanging up.  Sharing the location, she passed the phone back to Anaya, her mind in turmoil.

The ice cream parlor buzzed with activity as they entered. Amidst discussions about wedding outfits,
they got their ice creams and and sat on a quiet table and before she knew it she found herself arguing with Zarah over the shade of pink that will suit Hanan more.

"Zarah are you blind, this will literally look ashy on her!" Jadwa argued pointing at Ameerah's screen.

"I think it's more subtle I don't like this" Zarah said looking to the side stifling a laughter.

"I honestly think you are all just supporting Zarah at this point, hanan if you wear this I promise you'll regret it" Jadwa annoyed by the silence and stifled giggles of everyone.

She felt a breathing next to Before she could react, Muhammad Imran leaned down and took a playful lick from her ice cream cone.

The girls erupted in laughter, while Jadwa squeezed her eyes shut in a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. So lost in her argument with Zarah, she hadn't even noticed him arrive.

Wrapping his arm around her from behind, he chuckled. "I agree, Habibty, that color is so ugly."

Butterflies erupted in Jadwa's stomach despite her lingering anger. A playful smile tugged at her lips as she recovered from the shock. "You scared me," she whispered, momentarily forgetting her resolve.

He mouthed a silent apology and settled in beside her. Throughout their conversation, he kept a respectful distance, sensing her mood. The lack of a proper apology only fueled her simmering anger.

A few minutes later, he excused himself to take a call and Ameerah ushered Jadwa to go get him a drink or ice cream, as she did, Jadwa watched him through the see through glass of the building, leaning against his car. 

The sweetness of the ice cream turned sour in Jadwa's mouth.  As she turned to grab her order, a face from the past materialized before her, a face she'd buried deep in her memory, a person she never wanted to see again. Her heart plummeted, not with joy, but with a sickening dread as the memory of their last encounter flooded back.

"Amarya," the voice called out, laced with a familiarity that sent shivers down her spine.

Jadwa stared upwards, speechless and paralyzed by shock. Anaya glanced at the newcomer, confusion etched on her face.

"Abdulhakeem," Jadwa finally managed, her voice barely a whisper.

"It's been a while," he remarked, a sardonic smile playing on his lips. "How are you, and how's your husband?"  He emphasized the last word, the half-smile turning into a suggestive smirk.

"Alhamdulillah," Jadwa mumbled, a hollow response that did little to mask the turmoil within.  She turned away, desperate to escape his unsettling gaze, and reached for her order.

"Congratulations," he added, lingering in the same spot. As she pivoted back to face him, his eyes raked over her form, a blatant disrespect that made her skin crawl.

"Thank you," she muttered, attempting to sidestep him.  But before she could move away, he reached out, his hand landing possessively on her shoulder.

Jadwa recoiled, her face contorted in disgust.  "Are you okay?" she demanded, her voice laced with icy steel.

"I'm not done talking to you," he persisted, acting oblivious to her obvious discomfort.  Anaya, meanwhile, had caught on to the tension, her attention drawn by the sound of approaching footsteps.

"I am married now," Jadwa stated firmly. "Please, don't touch me again. Ever."  Her voice dripped with a scorn that left no room for argument.

Just then, she felt a familiar touch on her waist.  Even before turning around, the distinct scent of Imran's cologne confirmed her suspicion.  His grip was firm, a silent message to the unwelcome visitor.  Jadwa offered him a confused smile as Abdulhakeem extended a hand in greeting.

Abdulhakeem, a man considerably shorter than Imran, stood dwarfed by his imposing stature.  Imran, however, ignored the outstretched hand completely.

"This is for me?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow at the drink Jadwa held.  She offered a small nod in response.

"Thank you," he replied, flashing her a warm smile before turning back to Abdulhakeem, who remained awkwardly rooted to the spot.

Imran's features hardened, his jaw clenching involuntarily.  He tightened his hold on Jadwa, a silent expression of possessiveness.  Anaya, sensing the escalating tension, retreated back to the table, her eyes flitting between the uncomfortable tableau and Jadwa with silent concern.

"We've met before," Imran declared flatly, his voice devoid of warmth.  Abdulhakeem offered a curt nod, a forced smile plastered on his face.

"Yes, we have," he replied, his gaze flickering back to Jadwa in a way that made her skin crawl.  Imran simply nodded in response, his jaw clenched with barely contained anger.

The sight of another man, a man she once loved, leering at her like that ignited a fiery possessiveness in Imran. He fought the urge to drag her away, to scold and put her in place for the way she was dressed, for the way she attracted unwanted attention.  But instead, he vowed to address it later, calmly, when they were alone.

"Allah ya bada zaman—" Abdulhakeem began, his greeting cut short as Imran abruptly pulled Jadwa away, leading her back to their table.  He left Abdulhakeem standing there, a bewildered expression etched on his face.

"We're going to take a look at the house," Imran announced curtly. "We'll be back later, InshaAllah."

Murmurs of agreement and requests for pictures came from the table, but Jadwa could only manage a weak smile and a few mumbled words as Imran ushered them out towards the car.  She climbed into the passenger seat, a silent storm brewing within her.  She braced herself for the inevitable lecture, for the accusations and warnings, but it never came.

Imran remained uncharacteristically silent, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.  She stole a glance at him, his expression unreadable.  Unsure of how to proceed, she remained quiet, her hands growing slick with nervous sweat.

"Ya—" she began hesitantly, but he cut her off.

"Why did you come out dressed like this?"  His voice was low, laced with a controlled anger.  "Everyone else is dressed appropriately," he finished, his eyes lingering on her for a beat too long.  "Why this?"

Jadwa felt a surge of defensiveness.  "It's just ice cream," she retorted.  "Why does it matter what I'm wearing?"

"It doesn't matter for the ice cream," he conceded, his voice tight.  But the unspoken implication hung heavy in the air.  He had not seen what she was wearing when she sat down. He hated how she looked in that jumpsuit how sexy, how tempting it clung to her curves.  For the first time, his gaze wasn't flitting between her face and body it was solely focused on the way the fabric accentuated her figure.

The encounter with Abdul had ignited a fierce possessiveness in him.  He replayed the scene in his mind, the way Abdul's eyes had lingered on her, the audacity of his touch.  He wanted to let his anger out at her, to demand an explanation, but something held him back. 

Jadwa, oblivious to the storm brewing within him, wiped the sweat from her palms on her veil.  "I didn't plan to see him," she mumbled defensively.  "Honestly."

"Interesting," he remarked dryly, offering no further explanation.

His silence was worse than any lecture.  Jadwa wanted to scream, to defend herself, but the words wouldn't come.  She felt trapped, suffocated by the weight of his unspoken accusations.

"What do you mean interesting?" she finally burst out, her voice laced with frustration.  "It wasn't planned!"

"Did I say it was? And well, he seems comfortable enough to touch you," he countered, his voice devoid of warmth.

"I didn't—" she began again, her voice rising in protest.

"Who do you ask permission from before leaving the house?" he interrupted, his question catching her off guard.

Jadwa stared at him, incredulous.  "What do you mean?" she stammered.

"Whose permission do you seek before going out?" he clarified, his tone firm.

"My family's?" she replied, a sarcastic laugh escaping her lips.  "I don't even seek permission, I inform them where I'm going."

Imran simply nodded, his jaw clenched tight.  They rode in tense silence for a while longer, the air thick with unspoken emotions.  Finally, the car pulled into a quiet, upscale neighborhood.  An ornate gate swung open, revealing a stunning modern house.

"Get down," he instructed simply.

[XIV]

Jadwa climbed out of the car, her initial anger replaced by a grudging curiosity at the beautiful mordern architecture of the house, it was duplex and the exterior of the house alone brought a small smile on her face. Wow. Following him inside, she was met with a breathtakingly spacious living room, tastefully furnished and bathed in warm light.  Despite her simmering resentment, she couldn't help but admire the beautiful interior. 

As she wandered around, lost in the visual feast, she could feel his eyes burning into her back.  He stood there, hands shoved in his pockets, silently observing.

"Let me know before you go out next time, and make sure you work on your clothing choices. I won't take this again," he said, his voice tight, turning away abruptly. Jadwa followed behind, a nervous chuckle escaping her lips, a sound more like wind chimes dancing in a summer breeze. It died in her throat as Imran spun around, his dark eyes pinning her in place.

"Why does what I wear matter?" she blurted, a single eyebrow raised in defiance.

"Why?" He mirrored her gesture, his brow furrowing in frustration. Jadwa, emboldened for a fleeting moment, pressed on.

"Ya Imran," she began, her voice shaking slightly, "why are you acting this way all of a sudden? You don't even listen! Do you want me to be—"

"Don't finish that," he interrupted, a sigh escaping his lips like a deflated balloon.

"But what if I do?" she countered, her chin jutting out. "You never listen, you just jump to conclusions—"

He didn't let her finish. Not with words. Instead, in a swift movement he scooped her up by the waist, sitting her  her gently on the table beside him.

"Go on," he said, his voice a low rumble, his body caging her with a possessive heat. Jadwa swallowed hard, her heart hammering against her ribs. Ignoring the traitorous flutter in her stomach, she glared up at him.

"You keep cutting me off! Do you want me to beg?"

Imran's short laugh, devoid of humor, scraped against her already frayed nerves. "Yeah, but not now," he replied, his voice a husky caress that sent shivers dancing down her spine despite her anger.

Jadwa rolled her eyes, attempting to scramble down from the table. He countered by pinning her against the wall with one hand, his touch sending a jolt through her. In a blur of movement, he dipped his head, his lips brushing against her ear, trailing fire down her neck as his hand grazed the exposed skin beneath the fabric.

A gasp tore from Jadwa's lips, a primal sound laced with surprise and something else entirely. Her fingers twisted into the fabric of his shirt, anchoring herself as his touch ignited a wildfire across her skin.

He didn't relent. His heavy breaths mingled with the rhythm of her own as his hands explored every forbidden curve, sending shivers cascading down her spine. Her body, betraying her initial resistance, arched into his touch, a helpless moan escaping her lips. His grip tightened, his left hand moving from her thighs to cup her neck, the other hand splayed possessively across her lower back, pulling her impossibly closer. His kiss, when it came, was a hungry exploration, demanding and fierce. She tried to reciprocate, but the intensity of his possessiveness left her breathless, her senses overwhelmed. She surrendered, letting him devour her with a raw hunger that both terrified and exhilarated her.

When he finally released her, gasping for air, Jadwa leaned against the wall, her head spinning. He took a step back, his dark eyes scouring her face. She met his gaze, her own doe-eyes wide and unfocused, struggling to process the emotions swirling within her. Before she could voice a single thought, he was upon her again, his lips claiming hers in a searing kiss that stole the last vestiges of her resistance.

Jadwa clung to him, their make-out a tangle of limbs and whispered secrets, things she'd never dared to imagine, desires she hadn't known existed. In the haze of passion, his husky voice filled her ears with words and things he planned for them, painting vivid pictures with his words, pushing boundaries she never knew she had.

Finally, he tore himself away. "There, that's what goes through my head every time I see you dressed like that. And now that I know how it feels to hold you like this..." he trailed off, his voice dropping to a low growl, "I can't handle the thought of another man imagining the same."

Shame washed over Jadwa in a wave, stealing her voice. His words echoed in her mind, a harsh truth she couldn't deny. She couldn't look at him, the weight of his possessiveness suffocating. They stood in a tense silence for a beat too long before he grabbed her hand, his grip firm as he led her out of the house.

He couldn't stay a minute longer, the living room downstairs and that one room which she supposed was a guest room was the only thing she got to see in the house.

The car ride was a blur. Her hand remained trapped in his, a constant reminder of the intense encounter. When he finally pulled up inside their house, he turned to her, his gaze unwavering.

"Are you still in contact?" he finished, his voice low and expectant. Jadwa finally met his gaze, a flicker of defiance sparking in her eyes.

"No, I'm not," she said, her voice tight with frustration. The anger that had simmered beneath the surface during their heated exchange bubbled up. "And it's not what you think!"

She blurted it out defensively, her voice rising a notch. Shame burned in her cheeks, but a surge of pride pushed her to continue.

"Even if I was," she continued, her voice trembling slightly, "why would you react like this? What do you think of me?" She raised her voice slightly.

The question hung heavy in the air. Imran's expression remained unreadable for a moment, then a muscle in his jaw clenched.

"Watch your tone," he said finally, his voice clipped. His dark eyes held a simmering intensity that both intimidated and challenged her.

"Sometimes you forget I'm your husband,". His face was unreadable, a mask that hid his true emotions. It was a statement, not a question, and it carried the weight of unspoken expectations.

Jadwa swallowed hard, the anger ebbing away, replaced by a dull ache of disappointment. She understood his possessiveness, a possessive streak that had always been a part of him. But this felt different, laced with an undercurrent of control that left a bitter taste in her mouth.

"I'm listening," he said finally, his voice regaining its calm composure. He leaned back in his seat, arms folded across his chest, the picture of quiet authority.

Jadwa took a deep breath, willing her voice to be steady. "It's not what you think," she repeated, her gaze flickering away from his intense stare. "I didn't wear this to meet anyone. I was out with my sisters. I didn't do anything wrong."

Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Finally, Imran spoke, his voice low and measured.

"We can say you didn't do anything wrong," he conceded, "but I'm not going to do anything wrong either, if I exercise my rights as your husband." His gaze held hers, unwavering.

"From now on, until the wedding," he continued, his tone leaving no room for argument, "I don't want you going out without telling me first."

A knot formed in Jadwa's stomach. This wasn't a discussion, it was a decree.

"If there's a need," he added, his voice softening a fraction, "call me and ask permission a few days in advance."

He paused, letting his words sink in. "Is that clear?"

Jadwa opened her mouth to protest, but the steely glint in his eyes silenced her. She felt a surge of rebellion, a desire to defy his unreasonable demands. But somewhere deep down, she was scared to do that.

She nodded curtly, a silent acknowledgment of his dominance. A ghost of a smile played of satisfaction that sent a shiver down her spine.

"Good girl," he murmured, leaning forward to press a quick kiss on her forehead. The gesture felt patronizing, a stark contrast to the raw passion they had shared moments earlier.

"Good night,"

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I am a bit disappointed, that's why it took me long to update but enjoy☺️