You stir and slowly wake up, the soft morning light filtering through the luxurious curtains of your Italian hotel suite. The scent of freshly brewed coffee drifts in from somewhere outside your room, mingling with the faint aroma of the jasmine flowers in the vase by the window. As you try to get out of bed, you feel your husband's arms around you tightening gently.

"Where are you going, my love?" Omar says, his voice husky with sleep, sending a warm tingle down your spine. Memories of last night's passion flicker through your mind - the way his hands felt on your skin, the sound of his whispered endearments in your ear.

You stretch slowly, feeling the cool sheets slide against your skin, and quietly recite your morning Dua. Omar stirs beside you, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek before slowly sitting up, the sheet sliding down to reveal his toned chest. The morning sunlight catches the gold chain around his neck - a gift from his mother on your wedding day.

"When should we go to the hotel breakfast?" he asks, reaching over to brush a strand of hair away from your face.