Chapter 13 - Nora
I take a long deep breath in. “There are actually two big things that I have kept to myself. The first being the real ugly truth behind what happened between me and Tyson. And as you so brilliantly surmised from the yacht, I went through much worse. There are details that I couldn’t bring myself to share.”
“Things that I haven’t been able to admit happened. Maybe out of shame or the fact that I pushed them down so deep that I wouldn’t have to acknowledge it actually happened.” I cross my arms, hugging my body instinctively. I have to hold the pieces of myself together as I tell my deepest pain to the most perfect man I have ever met. I just hope he still wants me after he hears how I have been ruined.
“Well, I guess I will start from the beginning. As you already know, Liam and I have been the best of friends since we were in elementary school. Our friendship, and nothing more than that, was built on the deepest trust.”
“When he left for college, a piece of me left too, and part of me was empty. So when Tyson returned from college that same summer, it only seemed natural that I gravitated towards him as a replacement for Liam. Tyson and I never really interacted much before he left for college, and all I knew about him was that he had a bit of a temper, and got in trouble frequently.”
“But when I started spending time with him, I didn’t see that side, and I thought maybe he changed while he was away. You know, grew up some. He gave me attention that no one ever had before, not the other boys I grew up with, and I thought maybe that was because he was a man. I finally found someone I thought I was attracted to.”
Sayid’s expression remains neutral as I continue. “After he claimed my virginity, it was as if he couldn’t get enough of me. At first I thought it was a normal part of how relationships worked. But when summer ended, he became obsessive, and demanding. I was meant to satisfy every sexual need he had, when he wanted me to, but never when I wanted.”
I saw his jaw clench, and his hands ball into fists at his sides. “He did not take me out in public as his girlfriend, and made me swear to hide our relationship. He started to control where I went, who I talked to, and soon, my extra curricular activities. And before I realized what was happening, I was in so deep, I had no way out.”
“It started with verbal abuse, playing on my emotions, causing me to doubt the very person I was. He made me actually believe that no other man could ever want me, or love me. That by loving me he was doing me a favor. When his demands started to interfere with the one thing that I truly loved, softball, I tried to get out.”
“That is when the physical abuse started. When his words could not make me stay, he would hurt me. He would pick me up or drag me by my hair, and take me to his bedroom, locking us in there until I agreed to stay with him. He started slapping and hitting me if I said something he didn’t like.”
‘I got really good at hiding things from my family. If my mom didn’t work different long shifts as a nurse, she probably would have caught onto something being wrong. But my family has always operated independently from each other. My sister actually said something a couple of times to me, but I denied everything.” I pause, taking a deep breath in as the tears start to pool in my eyes. I knew I was going to break at any moment now as my story got even worse.
Sayid is barely holding it together. I can see the vein in his neck pulsing, and his hands gripping the arms of the chair so tightly that his knuckles are white. “In order to survive, to make it until I could go to college, I had to disconnect from everything. I became a completely different person, with what felt like three different identities.”
“My true self remained on the softball field, but my altered self was at school and with my family. Then there was my completely shattered self. When I was with Tyson, I had to disassociate from everything else. And still, his abuse turned into something more extreme than I thought he was capable of.”
Sayid is completely silent as I speak, but the air around him has shifted—thickened—like the weight of my words is pressing down on him, feeding something dark and dangerous beneath his skin. I can’t stop the tears. They come freely now, hot and endless, as I force the words out—words I have never given voice to until now.
My body starts to tremble, but I keep going, because I need him to know. I need him to know the absolute horror that has been inflicted on me. I begin to whisper the last part—the worst part.
“Tyson would hold me down or restrain me as he took what he wanted from me. And as if taking what he wanted for his own satisfaction wasn’t enough—he forced others on me as well.” My voice drops to barely a whisper. “He would invite a friend over, then more than one.”
“First it was giving Tyson a blow job while they watched, then taking turns while he watched. Then it was like I was there just to satisfy them while they played video games or watched a movie. It escalated to them using me for whatever they wanted. Sometimes I was in the bedroom waiting for them to take their turn, and sometimes it was with all of them at the same time.”
That was it, I had told him what happened, but spared the shameful details of each encounter. How could he want me after this? I can’t bear to look at him as the tears continue to stream down my face, and my uncontrollable sobs fill the silence between us. Then, Sayid snaps. His calculated control completely vanishes.
His chair groans violently, swiveling back into place as he sharply stands up. His hands grip his hair, his chest rising and falling rapidly with uneven breaths. A deep, guttural curse rears from his throat, raw and vicious. His entire body vibrates with fury, his hands flex at his sides as if he needs something to break or destroy something.
But not once do I feel his outrage directed at me. His curse is directed solely at Tyson. “Ya Allah,” he mutters, pacing a few steps before stopping and turning to face me. His eyes burn with uncontained rage, but still, not towards me. “He did this to you. He took… everything. And he still walks free?”
I flinch at the venom in his voice. It’s out of pure reflex, not actually from any fear towards him at all. As soon as I do, his fury vanishes—swallowed down, locked away. He is at my side in the next instant, kneeling before me, his strong hands gently wrapping around mine, steadying my trembling fingers. His touch is warm, grounding me.
“Nora, please look at me.” His voice is lower now, still tight, but filled with something softer, something just for me. I hesitate, my vision still blurred with tears, but I obey. His thumb brushes over my knuckles, slow, deliberate. “I will never forgive myself for not finding you sooner.”
He buries his head in my lap, as he kisses the back of my fingers. My tears are finally able to stop but my throat tightens. “You didn’t even know me then.”
“Not back then,” he counters looking back up into my eyes, his jaw clenching. “But when I saw the pictures of you, the video, I knew in my gut, or perhaps my heart, that you needed me. I should have gone to you sooner. And now that you’ve actually told me…” His grip on my hands tightens slightly, as if he is trying to anchor himself to me.
“By the heavens, there is nothing I wouldn’t do to erase his existence from this earth for what he did to you.” A shudder passes through me at the sheer conviction in his tone. “I am here now, Nora,” he continues, his voice rough, determined. “And I swear to you, with everything I have, I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure no one will ever hurt you again.”
A final sob escapes me. I didn’t mean for it to, but it comes anyway, and before I can even process it, Sayid pulls me into him, wrapping me in his arms. I bury my face against his chest, gripping the back of his shirt in my fists as the weight of it all crashes down on me.
He holds me tightly, his hand stroking down my back, his lips pressing against my hair. “Breathe, Qamari,” he murmurs. “I have you.” I want to believe him. I want to let myself feel safe in his arms, even just for this moment. And when his hand curls protectively around the nape of my neck, I realize—I do.
After a moment, he pulls away, only to hand me a glass or water. “Drink.” I take it and finish every last sip. He settles back in the seat next to me, and turns to face me again. He doesn’t hesitate as he reaches for my hands to hold. “I am not going to let go of you unless you want me to.”
I squeeze his hands, reassuring him that this is alright. I take another deep breath before continuing. “Now that the darkest truth is revealed. I still need you to know about something that is a part of me as well. Things that happened after Tyson.” Unsure if he will still want to touch me after this, I try to anchor myself to him in hopes he doesn’t pull away.
“After things ended with Tyson, and I went off to college, I threw myself into my studies and softball. I fought depression, and anxiety as I tried to heal and move on. I kept to myself as much as possible, didn't go to any parties or put myself in situations that made me uncomfortable. I tried to keep to myself, not going to parties, or anywhere else I would be uncomfortable. But, I still drew unwanted attention from men.”
“It didn’t matter how baggy of clothes I would wear, or little, or no make-up I wore, I was approached, and I felt uneasy. I thought maybe they wanted the same as Tyson. Finally, I healed enough to start to think that Tyson had to be the exception, that not all men would want to hurt me.”
“It took years to work up any sort of confidence, but finally after I turned 21, I went out with some girls from the softball team. A place where a lot of athletes usually gathered. And after a few drinks, I was finally able to relax, and almost feel comfortable again.”
I look down at my hands nervously. “I went home with a guy from the baseball team. Well, in all honesty, he was a coach.” I peek up at Sayid, and see his brow raised slightly. But he traces his thumb on my hand reassuringly. “We had sex, and it wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be. I realized that it was different, or at least I hoped it would stay that way.”
“We hooked up a couple more times when we would see each other at the bar again. Things were casual and comfortable, but then he wanted something more. He wanted a committed relationship, and I told him I couldn’t do that. I wasn’t ready to trust anyone with that piece of me yet.”
“I got depressed for a while, but going out and drinking seemed to help. Eventually I slept with a couple of other guys. I guess I was just making sure that they also weren’t just interested in hurting me, and that I can learn to accept their positive attention. But I still couldn’t trust any of them enough to take it past a fling.”
I pause for another moment, here we go, the final thing I am worried about revealing. “Then things really changed for me after the incident with Tyson on the yacht.” Deep breath.
“I wanted to feel safe and I wanted to feel a sense of belonging, but I wasn’t ready to fall in love. So, after reading a couple of books, watching a couple of shows, and a deep dive through the internet…I realized that I wanted to try BDSM.” There I said it, cards fully displayed on the table for him to look at. For a moment I thought I saw a flash of something in his eyes, but couldn’t tell what.
“I found someone online that I thought I would be compatible with. We met in person, in public places, a couple of times. Then we had a test run. Things were better than I had anticipated, and I agreed to be his submissive. After ironing out the details and restrictions on both sides, we created a contract and started seeing each other.”
Sayid’s fingers twitch slightly against my hands as I continue. “He was the perfect mix of controlling domination that I was looking for. He was attentive, and valued my pleasure equally as his own. I was able to fully submit to him while feeling perfectly safe. My ability to trust in a man started to heal.”
“Our relationship was calculated, and reliable. I knew exactly what to expect. And even though he had full control behind closed doors, he didn’t interfere or try to control anything outside of our arrangement. We both worked in healthcare, at different hospitals, and we would just spend time together when our rotating schedule allowed.”
“We would even plan our time off together and he would take us away for extended weekends. Things between us lasted for almost five months, until things started to change between Thanksgiving and Christmas. All of a sudden he became fixated on punishment. Looking to flog and spank, or deny me, for no clear reason.”
Sayid’s grip on my hands tighten, and I see the tension in his Adam's apple as he swallows deliberately. “I gave it a bit more time, seeing if it would continue or return to normal. But just after New Years, I made the decision to end things. He wasn’t following our original agreement and I couldn’t trust him anymore. Even though he didn’t hurt me in the same way Tyson had, I couldn’t be with him without the safety he once provided.”
“A few weeks passed by, and then he reached out to me. We had parted on fairly good terms, so I agreed to have lunch with him. I had no intention of going back to him whatsoever, but I was curious what he had to say. Turned out he wanted an actual relationship with me. He apologized for the way he acted, and that he punished me instead of accepting his own feelings.”
“I told him that I couldn’t be in a normal relationship with him, and that was the last I heard from him—-until about six weeks ago.” Sayid leans slightly towards me, still holding my hands in his. I could feel the anticipation building within him.
“One morning, he was being introduced as a new chief of the emergency department in the hospital I work at. I told you once before, I don’t believe in coincidences. And when we finally had a moment to speak alone, he told me he was here for career advancement, not for me. Since we do not work in the same department, or even the same building, I gave him the benefit of my doubt.”
“I do know that the only contact we have had has been completely professional. He has followed up on women, and their babies, from when they were in the ER and having gone into early labor. And I swear Sayid, I made him completely aware that I have zero interest in any sort of relationship with him.” I squeeze his hands with the promise of my words.
“I just wanted you to know about my hidden sexual discretions that happened after Tyson, so you can truly make an informed decision about wanting to be with me. I promise that I will never keep anything from you, no matter how embarrassed I am about my actions.”
The silence seems to stretch between us, thick with the weight of my confession. I have nothing left to hide, the raw, broken truth hangs between us. I wait for him to say something—anything.
Sayid exhales slowly, his voice low, steady. “Nora.” He says my name like it belongs to him, like he is anchoring me to the present, refusing to let me drift into the past. He reaches out, and takes my hands in his. Gently tracing his thumb against my wrist, right over the bruise Tyson left behind. I barely flinched this time.
His jaw tightens, his nostrils flaring, but his touch remains gentle. “You think this makes you unworthy of love?” His voice was rough, and almost filled with something dark, something barely restrained. I knew he wasn’t just referring to the bruise he was tracing, but the details of my entire confession. “You think I would turn away from you now?”
I swallow hard. “I don’t know. I just—I’ve never said any of that out loud before. And no one else knows my newly discovered sexual preferences.”
He runs his fingers up my arm, tracing a path so light it makes me shiver.
“What he did to you, what they did to you, what any man has ever done to you, does not define you. You survived it. And what you sought after, the control you craved, the trust you longed for—that was never wrong. I understand you, Nora. More than you realize.”
My breath catches in my throat. “You do?” A muscle ticks in his jaw, as if he were debating what to say next.
Then, his eyes darken with certainty. “Yes.” He brushes a knuckle along my cheek. “My life has never allowed me to indulge in what I truly desire. Control is not a luxury—it is an expectation, a duty. But when I want, I want completely, and will cherish completely. And I share the same desires and preferences as you do, but have restrained myself from giving into them.”
The way he speaks sends a wave of heat through me, melting away the last bits of doubt. He isn’t looking at me like I was broken, like I was something to be handled with caution. He is looking at me like I was already his, wanting to share the same desires and connection with me. He will cherish, and protect me, never hurt me.
“Sayid…” My voice is back to barely a whisper. His gaze flicks to my lips, then back to my eyes.
“I want you more than I have ever wanted anything. And as much as I still desire to feel your precious lips against mine.” His hand cups my face, his thumb tracing the curve of my lower lip. “I will wait until you are ready and give your full permission.”
I don’t hesitate. Not this time. I lean forward, closing the space between us, and press my lips to his. The moment our lips meet, I feel the weight of his claim—not just in the way his lips move over mine, not just in the way his fingers tighten against my skin—but in something deeper, something unspoken. A promise. A vow.
A deep rumble stirs from his chest—a sound of approval, of restraint barely held together. His hand slides to the back of my neck, tilting my head, deepening the kiss. He isn't just kissing me; he is imprinting himself on me, making sure I feel him everywhere. And I do.
I sigh against him, my fingers gripping his shirt, pulling him closer. His other hand splays against my waist, holding me in place, but he doesn’t push, not a demand. He just holds me there, as if he was savoring the moment, memorizing the feel of me.
When we finally break apart, he presses his forehead to mine, his breathing heavy, but controlled. His thumb brushes against my waist, his voice raw with possession. “I do not share what is mine, Nora,” he promises. “And make no mistake—you are mine.”
A shiver runs through my body at the certainty in his words. “Habibti,” he adds, his tone softening, reverent. “This is only the beginning.” I can already feel the weight of his love he has been expressing. And I knew, without a doubt, I had never truly belonged to anyone—until now.