I woke up to the sound of birds chirping and direct sunlight hitting my face.

I tried to move but something held me in place.

I opened my eyes and found a muscular arm around me.

Moving a bit to see who it was, I realized I was looking at my husband’s face.

FLASHBACK

He opened the door to his office and carried me to his room.

Shutting and locking the door behind us, he gently put me on the bed.

At that moment my heart felt like it would explode in my chest.

He is my husband and he is a playboy.

I told him I was savage — I can’t do this. I just can’t.

He looked into my eyes for a few moments and then lay down beside me, holding me tight to his body.

Breathing in my neck, he said something that shocked me. I never imagined those words could come from him.

“I know you’re not ready and I’ll wait until you are. My wife, I respect your decisions and can wait for you. Now at least I have someone who will wait for me and welcome me after a long, tiring day. Someone who will be with me no matter what. With whom I can have a family and spend my life.”

His words threw me off a cliff. It felt like I slipped and never landed.

I wasn’t able to say anything, so I didn’t.

We lay like that for a while before sleep took over me.

END FLASHBACK

I turned to my side and looked at his handsome face.

After staring for a few minutes, he cleared his throat and I looked up.

My eyes widened at my foolishness, and he smiled.

Kissing my head slowly, he got up and walked into the bathroom.

I lay there for a moment, then decided to go to my room and shower. I realized I had missed Fajr prayer.

As I was about to leave, his bathroom door opened and he walked out wearing only a towel.

I screamed at the top of my lungs, covering my eyes and backing away.

He laughed at me, then grabbed my hand before I could run.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“In my room,” I stammered, looking everywhere but at him.

“This is your room from today. You will sleep in my room, and from now on this room is officially ours,” he said.

“Now I remember—can I ask you what you were talking about with Peter yesterday?” he asked out of nowhere.

I waited a moment and replied, “I have a match tomorrow and it’s the final. I have to attend.”

“What’s with you asking someone when no one objected to you going?” he said, still standing there—naked.

“I—I—Ugh. I can’t answer you like this. At least go and put on some clothes,” I said, stuttering.

He chuckled and smirked.

Then he came closer, and I hit the door.

“Now that I think of it… the way your body reacts and your voice stutters — you haven’t been touched by anyone before, have you?” he said.

“I—I—” I tried to answer but failed.

His fingers brushed my skin and he tilted my head so I looked into his eyes. He whispered, “That’s good because you are all mine and I don’t like sharing. I’m sorry for not saving myself for you, but you are my dark light and I will never let you go or have you look at anyone else. No one can match my dark flower who gave light to my dark days.”

With that he walked to his closet, leaving me with confusion and new things to think about.

I quietly shut his bedroom door and went to mine, trying to steady my breathing.

He called me his wife—for the first time.

I started jumping around like a mad woman in love.

Then I stopped and remembered the other thing he said. Keep yourself together, Sana—he’s just playing with you, I told myself. Still, the smile on my lips gave everything away.

Today is the day of my final. I’ve been practicing since yesterday. I will give my best today. I will make this day mine.

There is only one hour left. He has been ignoring me since that morning, and I’ve been ignoring him too. That’s okay.

I remember how he was with his mistress in his office yesterday.

A liar. “No one can match my dark flower,” he said.

I was fuming. He played with me and I let him. I don’t want him to think I’m a virgin he can lead on. I hate myself for wanting a caring husband. I’m nothing but an idiot.

I huffed and cried silently for a while. I kept telling myself, “Today is my day and no one can take this opportunity from me — not him, not this world.”

My family and friends will be there watching me. I will show them the Sana he didn’t want to see.

I left with my bag and racket.

Outside, I jumped and stretched a bit, then took my position. I glanced around and saw my family — and Umar.

I stopped in my tracks when I saw him. He winked and mouthed, Give your best.

I smiled and winked back.

Glancing forward, I found him watching me. His eyes showed anger and hurt. He looked between Umar and me, like a man convinced I’d cheated on him.

I rolled my eyes.

The match started. I played at full force — if she sends it back I send it further, then to the front, then left. I used every technique I know. My style worked.

It was a hard match; my opponent knew how to challenge me, but I won.

I picked up the trophy, kissed it, and lifted it into the air. Tears ran down my cheeks as I smiled at the crowd.

My family hugged me, and Umar opened his arms. I ran to him and he lost his balance; we fell laughing.

“How’s my little sister?” he asked, kissing my cheeks.

“I’m as good as I can be,” I replied, smiling ear to ear.

After the celebration, I remembered a secret and suddenly felt lost. I said my goodbyes and started to walk away, on the verge of crying, when someone pressed me to their chest and asked, “What’s wrong, sis?”

Before I could answer, my husband appeared out of nowhere and punched the man.