It took me three weeks to call Faisal back. I had left his business card on my desk at the office. After all the celebrations and after getting back to speed with all my emails, I finally called him.

I could barely remember him. I knew he looked exotic and mega hot. I recalled liking the look of him, the way he dressed, and being charmed by his shyness.

I called him on a Thursday just before having a few drinks with the ladies.

“Good evening, Valérie.”

“Oh… How do you know it’s me?”

“I don’t have the habit of giving my personal number to every woman in love with me in London,” he replied ironically.

I smiled. Well, Faisal didn't sound that shy anymore. We chatted a few minutes and decided to have a drink the following Monday at the Redemption Bar in Notting Hill.

Well, I had a very nice feeling when I hung up with Faisal. I was in love with his voice: deep, sensual, sexy, and confident. I couldn’t wait to know more about him.

Monday 6 pm, I didn’t know what to wear; I was struggling to pick a dress. The more I was getting close to the time, the speedier my heart was pounding. My car had arrived and I wasn’t ready.

I had chosen my outfit with which I wasn’t completely confident. Just before leaving the flat, I changed my shoes and opted for my lilac Manolo Blahnik stilettos.

In the car, I completed my makeup. My heart was about to explode in my little body like some child stepped inside it and decided to have a party without my consent. I didn’t know how to calm it down.

Date No.1

When I got out of the car, Faisal was standing, waiting for me. He smiled at me and came towards me.

Oh, my… The guy was DDG: drop dead gorgeous.

When I remembered the stubble looking beard, Faisal had, now, a well-trimmed and stylish Lumberjack beard. He was around 6 feet, slim, shoulder length wavy hair, had a natural tan, and amazing hazel expressive eyes that would make the whole North Pole melt. I had an immediate (re)liking for him.

“I had almost forgotten how good looking you were.”

“I hadn’t. You were in my mind as you are: splendid, chic, and beautiful.”

Faisal grabbed my hand, took me to the restaurant. Inside, he took my coat, slid my chair, and asked for the drinks menu. I was quick to realise that the champagne, the wine, and cocktails were missing from the list.

I decided to have a second look and a third look.

“Are you okay?” asked Faisal.

“Well, I just wanted a glass of red wine.”

“Oh... Sorry, redemption is a vegetarian restaurant, and they don't serve alcohol. Is it okay with you?”

I was at first horrified, but realised that an alcohol detox wouldn’t hurt me after this festive season, and opted for an apple mock-jito and Faisal for a green is the new black.

I understood during the date that Faisal was born in Pakistan and came to London with his family when he was two. He had three big sisters all married with kids, and he was now searching to settle down with someone and have a family of his own.

All his friends were married, engaged, or in a relationship and after dedicating time and passion to his successful finance career, he wanted to give more time to someone special.

It was a sweet date where we both just wanted to check the chemistry. I wanted to know more about Faisal. We decided to have dinner the following Wednesday at one of his best (French) friend’s restaurants in Clapham Junction. Faisal insisted he’d come and pick me up on his way there.

Post-date No.1

I really liked Faisal. When I met him, I felt like it had been ages since I had met the great full package: handsome, fantastic manners, successful, and caring. All through our date, Faisal touched my hands like he wanted to reassure me. It worked. I was at ease. I felt comfortable with him. No drama, no surprise, and he filled my heart with laughs and joys. This was all I was looking for at that stage.

Date No.2

That Wednesday evening was surprisingly warm, and after a very busy day filled with meetings and calls, I couldn’t wait to relax and have a laugh with Faisal.

That time I knew exactly what I was wearing and opted for a very sexy black lace fitted jumpsuit from House of CB and dark stilettos from Louboutin. I knew it. I had a look to stop traffic and hopefully Faisal would think the same.

Faisal arrived at around 7:15 pm, he was waiting for me in front of my building. AT the sight of me, he took my hand, caressed my face, and kissed me delicately on the lips. He skimmed my lips, but my body shivered as if he’d penetrated his penis into my virgin body, it was such a powerful, sexy kiss. Faisal looked at me, "I couldn't wait for this. Beautiful. Let’s go. I can’t wait to show you my world.” His voice was suave and delicate and again my body vibrated to the sound of his voice.

Faisal opened the door of his car for me and to my biggest surprise, I realised that he was driving. Not that I am so spoiled that I always need a driver, but, just because I hoped that he wouldn't be drunk-driving after our intimate party tonight. I decided not to say anything. We were, now, then both headed towards Clapham Junction at Gastronhome restaurant.

We arrived at Gastronhome and were welcomed by one of the chefs. Damien was amicable and sat us at a very special table. Damien discussed a few minutes of what was apparently business with Faisal and we were given the menu, which by the look of it seemed incredible.

Being `French, of course, I opted for the snail, the Dover sole with spinach roll, and a fine selection of cheese. When I asked for the wine menu, Damien looked at me weirdly, and looked questioningly towards Faisal, who replied, “She wants to drink, let’s have her some wine. Not a problem at all.”

Faisal mentioned, anticipating my question, “I don’t drink alcohol. I am a Muslim.” I felt a bit embarrassed that I didn't even guess he was Muslim. I decided painfully to stick with the same drink as his "fizzy water." Faisal insisted, but I refused to order. But, after washing my hands in the bathroom, I had the surprise of seeing a glass of Chablis on my side of the table. I smiled and thanked Faisal.

Again, we had a fantastic time together. Faisal told me about his life but also asked questions about mine. He told me about his family, his strong relationship with his sisters, and his parents, our marriages, our best friends, our activities, and his religion.

After this lavish dinner, we headed toward the Clapham Grand where we enjoyed a jazzy atmosphere. Faisal couldn't stop kissing me all over my face. It was so sweet of him. We stayed a bit more than an hour and Faisal took me home. We stayed in front of my building for 30 minutes kissing passionately and after he gave me a final goodbye kiss, handled an envelope, and disappeared with his driver.

I don't know why I started shaking. I suddenly remembered all the sorts of invites from the Arabs in Knightsbridge with their great slacks of money asking me to join them at their tables, promises of a very happy ending. "Please, please, please... Not money…"

But to my heart's relief, it was a sweet card saying, "I had a fantastic night with you. I'd marry you tomorrow if I were sure it wouldn't scare you off. I already feel the deepest of feelings for you. And can’t wait to discover YOUR WORLD.”

I smiled. Faisal moved me. He was so special; despite the religious concerns, I had, I wanted to be with him so much and decided to go on another date. I just hadn’t had enough of him yet.

Post-date No.2

Bianca adored the look of him but despised the non-drinker part of him and questioned me. “Did he ask you to wash your teeth after your glass of wine? Did he kiss you despite your glass of wine? Did you eat pork? Does he eat pork?" It was too many questions; I couldn’t handle it. Camellia was a little bit more relevant but still aghast. "Is his family okay with you being black?" Pakistanis usually don’t like mixing. Would you cover up for love?”

We had two dates and everything seemed to be drama already. Upset, I went home and decided to ask the same questions to one of my best friends: my cousin Lara.

My cousin, Lara, was married for nine years with a Muslim and I thought she was the best person to ask questions to. Unfortunately, her answer was, "If I had to do it again, I wouldn't do it and the religion would be my number one no-no.” I felt like I’d just been told that I would never eat cheese again: distraught.

Well, I decided to follow my heart, as I firmly believed that everyone has his or her own experience of things and each story is different.

Date No.3

Seriously? Why would I question the religion whilst I felt so much chemistry and I was filled with such magical joy in my soul? This man was magic and enlightened my days every single time I talked to him. He was my favourite notification.

When Faisal came and picked me up that Friday night, the first thing he said to me was, "The more I don‘t see or talk to you, the more I am feeling like I am slowly drowning. You’re addictive. I am slowly falling…” Faisal kissed me. Oh, my… His kisses were loaded with so much passion, and I could feel an intense sexual heat starting to burn between my legs. I was losing my emotional balance. I wanted him entirely and enormously.

A few minutes later, driven by my body’s needs, I pulled Faisal in my building, we were on my stairs, and he suddenly reasoned to me, “This is not how I want to make love with you Valérie. I respect you.”

I respected his decision too and we left for Jusu Brothers and had one of those magical dates again. Faisal wanted me meeting his sisters. I was impatient. I wasn’t in love yet, but Faisal was the first man to make me forget about Taylor. And this only, was amazing!

I didn’t want to compare but Faisal’s hands on me, his legs by mine, his kisses, or the sole heat of his body melted me away. I knew I could fall in love.

Again, after this splendid and chic night, Faisal asked me what I wanted to do for my birthday and asked if we could celebrate it together. I was glad he thought about it and accepted his invite. Our party, he would cook Pakistani cuisine for me. I couldn’t wait for our next date.

Unfortunately, this date never happened, as two days before, Faisal was crying his tears out. His dad on holiday in Pakistan died in a car crash and he had to rush to Pakistan to formerly recognise his death. I was horrified by the news and asked him if I could help in any way. Faisal wanted me at the airport by him. So, on the day of my birthday, three years after my divorce, I was consoling the “new man of my life” over the death of his dad. I tried to find the best words possible to say before his flight. And Faisal left me in London all alone turning 33-year-old.

When Faisal was gone, a part of me was mortified. He’d shared his pain with me, and then I was carrying that energy with me, and as if my morning hadn't been bad enough, I was stopped by three women kin the middle of Heathrow Airport.

“Can we talk to you?” one of them said with a high-pitched voice, grabbing my jacket.

“I don’t know you,” I replied. “Who are you? How dare you touch me.”

“We are Faisal’s big sisters, Madame,” responded aggressively another one.

“What do you want from me?” I asked, concerned and got my jacket back into place.

“Well, you need to give it up. We don’t want a woman like you in our family. Don’t ever get in touch with Faisal again.”

“Faisal’s gone to Pakistan and he's going to meet his future wife. He won’t marry you e-ver, ne-ver Madame Frenchie Frog pork-eater,” added another one.

“You can just fuck off! You’re his past and Aicha his future.” They looked at me like they were expecting a response from me. I didn’t want to embroil myself into any sort of fight. So, I just walked. I completely ignored the Sisters, which seemed to annoy them even more. I could hear them screaming at me, saying things I couldn’t even understand.

Then, I heard heavy steps running after me, and before anything happened, I snarled, “Don’t even try to touch me, talk to me, or harass me. How dare you speak to me; I don't even know you. If you keep on following me, I will call the police right now. I am not interested in dealing with women like you. If Faisal has left to get married, so be it. But I don’t want to be part of your rude and obscene attitude in the middle of this airport. I don’t hang with people like you.”

They were all shocked and stuck like statues in the middle of Heathrow. I tried my best to keep my tears from falling down my face in front of them. I am not sure I managed. At least, I can’t remember. When I thought I’d be embarking in a big fight in the middle of an airport for the first time in my life, they decided to leave me alone and looked at me walking away.

I walked as fast as I could and I grabbed a cab disappearing into the M4.

Would I see Faisal again? I liked him, but all this drama after three dates was more than I could handle.

This wasn’t a battle I wanted to fight… I would indeed have gone against all the winds, tides, and storms for the right relationship. But not this one, next!