Khalifa and I dated for six months.
Six good months of not thinking straight even though we didn’t see each other for four months. He went on a business trip out of the country and God, I missed him so much. The day he arrived, I wanted to see him so fucking badly that I did what probably began the end of my story. I asked Khalifa to come to my place.
Yea! Insignificant right? You would say since we were lovers, that’s understandable, but for me, it wasn’t. Let me reintroduced myself.
My name is Sahara. I’m 21. Yes, fucking 21. What the fuck did you think I was? 25, 24? I’m in my second year in college studying pharmacy. I’m from a very religious family. Not only my parents, me too (at least till I met khalifa).
I had made the decision not date till my final year and not to have sex till my wedding night. Now, I was breaking my first damn rule. I was dating a 28 year old billionaire who probably had a finance somewhere and I had just invited him over to my house.
Let’s skip this part, move to the next chapter.