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Ceylin turns in her bed for what feels like the thousandth time. She’s been trying to sleep for what feels like hours, but sleep refuses to come. Instead, her brain is going into overdrive trying to process the events of the day. She can’t quite comprehend nor compartmentalise the way her day started out with a bright future in the palms of her hands and ends with this unbearable nightmare of a reality.
If she’s honest, it’s a sheer miracle she didn’t end up back in the hospital. Somehow, someway, she managed to stay on her own two feet through Ilgaz trying to put the breaks on their future, to finding out Yavuz did not, in fact, kill her father, through enduring that unbearable ride with Yekta and suppressing the urge to put her fist through his teeth, if only to shut him up, and then finally that nightmare in the factory. And oh, if only it ended there… but no. There was the police station, too and, because apparently she is a masochist now, there was telling her family the truth of the matter.
Her mother’s reaction was… expected, yet nevertheless painful as Ceylin had to stand there and listen to her mother spit one poisonous curse after another at the Kayas. She listened to her drag Ilgaz, the son-in-law she’d been so proud of only yesterday, through the proverbial mud. Ceylin found herself clutching her fist tighter and tighter behind her back until her knuckles turned white and her nails drew blood from her palm. With every word her mother said against Ilgaz, Ceylin grew angrier. Even through the thick fog of grief, betrayal, and loneliness that had descended upon her as soon as she saw his car in the abandoned factory, she felt anger on Ilgaz’s behalf. Anger that he should have to bear the brunt of her mother and sister’s fury. But Ceylin kept her mouth shut, knowing perfectly well that saying so much as a syllable in her husband’s defence would make the situation so much worse.So she bit her tongue, bloodied her palms and waited for her mother’s back to turn before she bolted towards her bedroom and locked the door behind her.
But even then the tears wouldn’t come. There was fear - for herself, for Ilgaz, for her future. There was panic - at the sheer amount of devastation that’d been thrown her way in the span of less than a week. There was fury - at losing her father, at her in-laws, at her supposed friends who saw it fit to keep everything to themselves and treat her like she was made of glass.
So here she is now, spinning around in her old bed, in her old room, trying to find a shred of solace in an empty room. She huffs and turns from the position on her back to laying on her left side.
Ceylin’s eyes seem to fixate on the black suit jacket hanging from the hanger on her door. A black tie, just barely visible from what little light from the nearby street lamp manages to pass through the curtains. She allows herself to stare in silence for a few long moments, before she can recall with crystal clarity what it looked like on its owner’s torso. And then her mind’s eye focuses on him instead of the suit and Ceylin has to slam her eyes shut to break that train of thought. She huffs loudly, kicks off her covers and twists until she’s now lying on her right, facing the window.
Yet, that proves to be an even bigger miscalculation. Because now, other than the window, she also faces that empty side of her bed and the pillow she’d thrown to the side earlier when she first got into bed. The empty bed, this empty bed, wouldn’t have bothered her in the slightest up until a few nights ago. But then he came, and he made himself fit in the old bed as if he was always meant to be there. It’s ruined for her now. Because all she can see is him sitting there, clothing her, caressing her, comforting her, falling asleep next to her. His absence is very loud in an otherwise quiet room.
Her thoughts drift briefly towards the unopened bottle of sleeping pills from the psychiatrist and she’s about to go get them when she figures out it’s better not to. Because she needs her wits about her to wade through the quicksand her life has turned into overnight. She also knows what her mother’s reaction will be if she learns about it and she doesn’t think she can take another scene.
Desperate times call for desperate measures, it would seem. She shifts in bed to a sitting position and reaches for the discarded pillow.
Ceylin holds it gingerly at first, but presses it against her chest as she shifts back down to lie on her side again. Once lying down, she lifts the pillow to her face and buries it into the soft cotton. She’s not sure if it’s a blessing or a curse that she can smell the remnants of his cologne on the pillow. On one hand, she can’t handle what this smell invokes in her - the memories, the softness of his skin at the crook of his neck where she’d often bury her face as she fell asleep in his arms, the sight of him meticulously preparing for work every morning. It’s torture when he’s so far away and so inaccessible to her. On the other hand, she is drained. Can barely keep her eyes open. She desperately craved sleep. It seems, as with every other thing that he’s touched in her life, trying to fall asleep without him is completely futile. The bed is too cold without his arms to keep her warm. Her pillow is too soft because she got used to laying her head on his firm torso. The vulnerability of being alone in a pitch black room is scary without the comfort of his heartbeat against hers.
She inhales deeply as the tears brim into her eyes and prays for sleep.
Fate, as it would seem, has other ideas.
Her phone rings and Ceylin freezes. Phone calls in the dead of night are never a good thing. Never.
The ringing continues and she twists to reach blindly behind her with one hand until her fingers clutch around the phone on her bedside table. Bringing the phone to her face she can only tell two things - it’s after midnight and the caller ID says SEVGILI. She has to swallow a lump of fresh tears at the sight of the word as well as his picture. She has no idea why he’s calling, but she knows she can’t bear to talk to him at the moment. Not yet anyway. It’s too soon and she’s afraid of what she will say or do in his presence in her anger.
She lets the phone ring until it stops and her heart stops for a brief moment along with it.
It doesn’t ring again. She finds herself sighing in equal parts relief and disappointment. It’s been hard enough to spend most of the day within arm’s reach of him, itching, aching to have his arms around her, to have hers around him. She’s certain that if he keeps on calling eventually she will pick up the phone. And god knows what will happen then. To her. To him. To them.
Her phone pings as a message comes in. Maybe he hasn’t given up after all.
Ceylin reaches for her phone despite knowing that she shouldn’t. A message she can do. She doesn’t need to hold a conversation with a message. It’s honestly all the excuse she needs to unlock her phone and open the messaging app.
What waits for her is a voice message instead of text and her finger hovers over the play button for a few moments as she battles with herself on the decision if she can handle hearing his voice right now. Desperation wins against common sense and she pushes against the play button harder than necessary.
She is stunned into complete silence by the high, childlike voice that comes through her speaker instead of the rich baritone she expected.
“Ce-Ce-Ceylin abla,” - it’s more of a terrified sob than it is a greeting. “Ceylin abla, Ilgaz abim - “
It’s after midnight. Defne has Ilgaz’s phone. The little girl sounds equal parts terrified and devastated.
Ceylin listens to Defne’s loud sob as it renders her incapable of speaking and she can feel the colour drain from her face and the blood in her veins turn to ice. She never manages to register anything more than those first four words.
Any exhaustion is pushed to the side the moment the shock passes. Ceylin bolts in her bed as if someone lit a fire under her. She can taste the rising panic on her tongue and the edges of her vision blur as she tries her damned hardest to focus on the screen of her phone.
Her fingers shake so much it takes her a couple of tries to open her contact list and hit the call button. Defne picks up at the first ring and Ceylin has to swallow her own tears at the sound of this precious little girl.
Ceylin has to dig very deep inside herself to fish out the small sliver of composure she forces herself to maintain while on the phone. She does her best to keep her voice even and try to calm the girl down so she can understand what’s happening. But in the end, Defne’s anxiety and fear overwhelm her and the only thing Ceylin is able to understand is that she is terrified for Ilgaz who is not well at all.
The decision is made as soon as Defne’s words register with her. Ceylin is on her feet and rushing to her desk in search of her car keys before Defne is even finished speaking. Her hands reach for the first garment that even remotely looks like it could be a coat.
The girl is begging her to come over and while on any other occasion, she would cut off her own limb than set foot in Metin Kaya’s house, she cannot refuse Defne’s wish. Both for Defne’s sake and for Ilgaz’s. As well as her own peace of mind.
She assures Defne that she will be there in a few minutes and asks the girl to go and open the door. She asks her where her brother is at the moment and asks Defne not to engage him in conversation before she gets there. Ceylin doesn’t want to risk Defne getting more hurt than she already is. She knows she’s making too much noise as she rummages around her room and then rushes down the stairs to put her shoes on. She knows she’s probably woken both her sister and her mother, but honestly, she can’t bring herself to care.
The only thing on her mind is her husband. Her husband who is apparently unwell enough for his eight year old sister to call her in a panic in the middle of the night.
She gets in her car and floors the gas, not even caring that she only has to drive three streets over.
She has no recollection of getting to the Kaya house, or if she locks her car, or how she gets up the stairs to their, his, apartment.
“Ilgaz,” she calls out as soon as the door shuts behind her and she is still in the foyer.
No response.
She shrugs her coat and kicks off her shoes as she walks barefoot, in her pajamas, into the living room.
“Ilgaz,” she calls again and looks around, ignoring the way his name burns at her lips.
He’s nowhere to be seen.
She turns around towards the corridor and her heart breaks at the sight of little Defne. Little Defne with tear tracks down her face, messy hair, as her head peeks out from their bedroom.
She rushes towards her without a second thought.
Defne throws herself into Ceylin’s arms as soon as the bedroom door opens widely enough to allow it. Ceylin hugs Defne tightly to her and bends over to press kisses to the crown of the girl’s head.
They stand underneath the doorway for a moment, before Ceylin leads them awkwardly, because Defne is still clutching at her, inside the room and towards the bed.
She offers soothing whispers and soft caresses until eventually Defne calms down. Once the sobs subside Defne finally tells her what happened. How she insisted to sleep up here because being alone downstairs was too much, how her brother put her to sleep and pretended not to cry when he put her to bed, even though she saw the tears in his eyes. How she hadn’t seen Ilgaz put one crumb in his mouth when he’d prepared dinner for her. How he looked as if he was far away.
Ceylin listens to her as her own tears threaten to start falling. She feels as if there’s an invisible fist around her heart and it squeezes and squeezes at the muscle with all its might.
And then Defne breaks her heart even further without even realizing it.
“The last time he was this sad was when you were gone,” Defne confesses with a small voice. “I made him cake to cheer him up, but he was still so sad,”
Any words Ceylin wants to offer Defne as comfort get stuck in her throat, so she settles for pulling Defne into her and hugging her tight.
“My mom left, my dad left, Cinar abi left, too, even though I begged him not to.” Defne tells her, “I don’t want Ilgaz abim to leave too,”
It dawns on her at this moment that responsibility for Defne will fall to Ilgaz. She knows he will do anything and everything to protect his sister and provide for her, even at his own expense.
“I’m here now, Defnecim,” she caresses Defne’s cheek. “It will be okay, I promise you, you will never lose your brother. Or me.”
Oddly enough it’s at this confession, at this very moment, that any confusion Ceylin has felt about this whole situation dissipates. She realises that any options she may have considered in terms of her connection to Ilgaz disappear. There is only one option for her. And that option is doing her damned best to ensure Defne’s happiness. To ensure that what this girl is currently experiencing becomes nothing more than a vague, distant, blurry memory, overshadowed and overwhelmed by an infinite plethora of as happy a childhood as they can give her.
They.
Her and Ilgaz.
Because there is not a shadow of a doubt in her mind that she cannot and will not walk away from them.
She eases Defne into the bed and tucks the duvet around the girl.
“Try to get some sleep, canim,” she tells Defne, “I will go make sure your brother is alright and I’ll be back to check on you. Everything will be okay, I promise.”
It’s more of a vow than a promise, really.
She presses a kiss to Defne’s forehead and to each of her cheeks and extracts herself gently from the girl’s grasp.
She takes a deep breath and exhales as soon as she closes the bedroom door behind her and Defne is out of sight. Her whole body is shaking and it takes her some time to get it under control.
Ceylin sets off around the apartment as soon as she trusts her knees not to give out. She has a husband to find.
It’s a broken sob that leads her to the balcony.
The sight as she rounds the corner shatters her heart and makes her knees shake to the point where she feels the need to grab the sliding door for support.
It’s a horrible sight in front of her and she hopes beyond hope that this is the first and last time she ever has to witness it.
Ilgaz is sitting against the wall with his knees drawn up to his chest, his forehead leaning on them. She clocks the half empty bottle of raki in his left hand. But all of that is drowned out by the gut wrenching sobs that tear out of his lips. Sobs that make her want to crash to the ground next to him and join in.
The sight of him - this ever stoic, ever strong man. Her husband, her rock, her safe haven in any storm they’ve faced, on the ground, shattered into pieces that he can’t seem to hold together is more than her eyes can bear.
“Ilgaz!” she calls out to him and surges forward because every second she spends listening to him sob is unbearable to her.
She embraces him tightly and starts pressing kisses to the side of his face, the top of his head, and any surface of him she can reach. All while squeezing him to her as if willing his heartbreak to flow into her. She will take it. She will take it all. For him she will go through a thousand heartbreaks. She will find the will and the strength to withstand them all.
The only reaction he has to her presence is to clutch at her arms to an almost painful degree. He doesn’t turn around to face her, he doesn’t give any verbal cues that he is aware she is there. He keeps his eyes closed.
Ilgaz keeps on sobbing. Ceylin sobs alongside him and holds him tight until he goes slack in her arms.
She wants to move him inside, to the couch, but she knows she has no hope of lifting him, let alone carrying him inside. He’s dead weight at this point and it’s unclear to her if he would be able to walk even if he was still awake. Probably not. There’s no one she can call for help either.
Once she’s absolutely sure he’s as good as dead to the world, Ceylin extracts herself from his grip and then leans down to take the discarded half-empty raki bottle and carry it back into the kitchen. She makes sure to put it back into the cupboard it usually sits in, if only so Defne doesn’t see it and put two and two together.
Then she walks over to the chest in the living room where they keep that spare pillow and woollen blanket she used to sleep with on their couch. She grabs them and walks out to the balcony.
She pushes Ilgaz forward just enough to be able to place the pillow vertically against his head, neck, and shoulders, and then she spreads open the blanket and tucks it around him to make sure he is covered.
It’s then that she notices the overturned chairs and the table that’s standing crookedly about thirty centimetres from its usual place. It clicks then, what woke Defne up and prompted the girl to call her.
She steps over Ilgaz carefully and rights them up, leaving no trace of the devastation that was rained upon them.
On her way back she stops to lean over her husband and kisses the top of his head again.
Ceylin contemplates sleeping on the couch again, because she’s not sure she could sleep in their bed without him in it. But ultimately, she figures Defne would sleep better with Ceylin next to her, so she clenches her jaw, squares her shoulders and walks inside her bedroom.
Surely enough Defne is still awake and the relief on her face as Ceylin walks in, tells her sleeping here is the right call. She offers Defne a soft smile that’s probably weaker than she’d like. But she pulls back the duvet and gets under the covers, opening her arms for Defne to snuggle in as she does.
Defne doesn’t need to be told twice and Ceylin murmurs reassurances and caresses the girl’s hair until she relaxes in her arms and sleep takes her.
It’s only then, with Ilgaz passed out, but safe, on the balcony, and Defne tucked in her arms that Ceylin allows herself to cry. She cries until sleep finally comes and takes her away.
She wakes first the next morning and ends up waking Defne as she tries to get out of bed, because the little girl is clinging to her like a koala bear.
Defne won’t go back to sleep despite Ceylin’s attempt to persuade her so instead they end up getting up, brushing their teeth and shuffling to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.
Ceylin tells Defne about the new house in an attempt to lift the girl’s spirits and she lets her know in no uncertain terms that once her and Ilgaz finish some urgent business, Defne will come with them to stay. Because she has her own bedroom and it’d be a waste to let it go unused. They talk about paint colours and furniture and curtains.
Ilgaz sleeps through it all.
After breakfast Ceylin takes Defne downstairs to her aunt’s and if the older woman is shocked to see Ceylin there, she doesn’t show it. She asks Makbule to take care of Defne for a bit, preferably take her out for a walk or ice cream or anything that would take her mind off things for a while. She explains that she needs to talk to Ilgaz and there’s no knowing how that will go in their current states.
Makbule gives her a look that’s almost grateful and under different circumstances Ceylin would have laughed about it. Now, she’s only grateful the older woman is not giving her any of her usual attitude.
She gets back upstairs just in time to hear and soon after see Ilgaz hunched over the railing and for a moment she thinks the worst. Fear grips her like a vice and turns her legs to lead for just a moment before she crosses their apartment in record time and reaches him.
He’s at least somewhat coherent this time, çok şükür!
So she leads him towards the bathroom and into the shower and once again she seems to have made a decision before actively realising there’s one to make at all - because here she is getting in with him and proceeding to say with actions what she can’t quite articulate with words at the moment. She washes his hair and his body and steps away when he tries to return the favour.
An almost manic laugh threatens to escape from her throat but she swallows it. It’s unfathomable how she could have ever doubted him. This man. Her man, who even in his current state, still reaches out to care for her, despite the fact that he is in pieces.
She dries them both off soon after and hands him some pyjamas and then takes his hand and leads him into the kitchen. She’s made too much for breakfast, but at the same time she couldn’t quite get Defne’s words about Ilgaz starving himself out of her head.
It takes some persuasion but he eventually starts eating and it’s a testament to how hungry he must be that the food disappears from his plate in record time. But all Ceylin cares about is that just a little bit of colour returns to his face and he does admit to feeling better.
She leads him to the couch then and holds him close as they finally talk.
It breaks Ceylin’s heart to see him doubt his worth, to hear him belittle himself in the name of her honour and her father’s memory. It hurts her to see him drown in someone else’s shame. And that’s when she knows for a fact, that even if by some miracle she found herself capable of forgiving Cinar and Metin for the crime against her father, she will never forgive the way they broke Ilgaz.
Their talk is interrupted by Defne coming home and Ceylin can’t help but return the girl’s smile as she approaches them. They both reach out to pull her in and embrace her. A silent look above her head reassures Ceylin they are in agreement - Defne’s well-being comes first.
So for the rest of the day they laze around the house. They watch one Disney movie after another. Ilgaz sings along, albeit off key, to some of the songs. They prepare lunch and invite his aunt to join them. They play a boardgame in the afternoon and before they know it it’s time for dinner and then bed for Defne.
Ilgaz and Ceylin return to their couch as soon as Defne drifts off, hand in hand. Yet Ceylin can’t shake the heaviness from her heart.
She settles against him on the couch and the words just slip out of her mouth, unbidden.
“I’m so sorry,”
She can feel Ilgaz’s surprise as he reels back against the couch, clearly surprised at her words.
“What? Why?” he asks.
Ceylin swallows loudly and turns to face him as her hands seek out his own.
“I should have been next to you. From the moment you learned the truth and up until last night, you were alone in this hell and you should have been.” she explains and it feels like a stone has lifted from her chest.
Ilgaz blinks at her silently and she can tell he’s weighing his words in his mind. She can practically hear the cogs turning in there.
“You have nothing to apologize for. You are the last person who should apologize in this situation,” he finally says and his voice is decisive, leaving no room for argument.
Tough for him. She is going to argue.
“That’s not true,” Ceylin tells him and squeezes his fingers between hers, “The night in the house, I knew something was wrong as soon as you crossed the threshold. I knew it and yet I decided to pretend it wasn’t there. That wasn’t fair.”
The silence stretches between them for a few moments before Ilgaz finally speaks:
“That’s not fair to you, Ceylin. You did what you had to do to protect yourself. I would never blame you for it. I couldn’t bring myself to ruin your happiness. That’s the only reason why I didn’t push harder to tell you,”
Ceylin nods, recognizing the truth in his words. It hadn’t escaped her notice the way her affectionate, loving husband who could barely keep his hands to himself when she was around him, could barely look her in the eye let alone touch her or return her affection that night.
“I would have told you, I swear, but then Eren called and interrupted us,” Ilgaz hurries to add defensively.
“Why didn’t you, then? Why did you leave?” She finally voices the questions that’s been bothering her for two days now.
She watches as Ilgaz closes his eyes, takes a breath, and then exhales deeply.
“Eren called me about Cinar’s whereabouts. I gave them until that evening to find him or else I would have called in a proper police search. Eren called to say that they were at the place Cinar was supposed to be, but that he wasn’t there.” Ilgaz explains, “I didn’t tell you anything and left because I was hoping to have both of them arrested before I spoke to you,”
“Why, Ilgaz? Why wait? Why go through this alone?” Ceylin shakes her head as her face twists to represent the confusion she’s feeling inside.
“I was hoping, maybe foolishly,” Ilgaz says and disentangles one hand from hers to scratch at the back of his neck, “that having them arrested, figuring out what happened and being able to give you answers will give you at least some semblance of comfort. Of solace.”
Wordlessly, Ceylin reaches up with her newly free hand and cups his cheek. Her heart soars to see him lean into her touch.
“I am so ashamed, Ceylin, “ Ilgaz confesses, “I am so ashamed to be associated with the two of them - their actions, their blood, their name. How could I expect you to be? I was convinced you would hate me for the rest of our days.”
It hurts to hear, but Ceylin also knows his fear is not unfounded. The last time something similar had happened she ended up filing for divorce.
“It would have been easier if I did,” Ceylin returns a confession of her own instead, “I almost did, I think,”
She watches his face sink and regrets her choice of words. Though he did ask her for full transparency and she is giving it to him.
“But then Defne called last night, that’s how I knew to come over,” she can see the confusion on his face as she says this and so she launches into a brief explanation of what went down.
He is devastated by the time she finishes and she throws her arms around him in the only comfort she can offer.
“I didn’t even realize she’d heard me,” Ilgaz whispers in horror, “I never even heard her walk around, Ceylin!”
She hugs him closer to her and pulls his head to her chest and cradles it lovingly.
“It’s alright,” she soothes him, “Don’t dwell on it, I’m here, we figured it out. She will be alright, we’ll make sure of it.”
He relaxes into her embrace and she delights in the feeling of his arms circling around her as he returns her embrace.
“This will never happen again,” he promises her and she knows without a shadow of a doubt that he means it.
She can feel him turn his face just enough to press a kiss against her heart. She returns the gesture with a kiss to the top of his head. He presses her closer to him and she gladly returns the favour. They stay like this for a while longer before Ilgaz pushes back against her and puts enough distance between them so that they can look each other in the eye.
“Thank you,” he says and his voice is uncharacteristically small, “For loving me,”
She can’t help the smile that stretches on her lips, because it feels like such an absurd thing to thank her for. Here he is, the best man she’s ever known and will possibly ever know, thanking her for loving him. As if that was a chore.
“You never have to thank me. For anything,” she tells him and leans forward again until her nose rubs gently against his own.
“Where do we go from here?” Ilgaz asks after a few beats of silence.
Ceylin shrugs, “I don’t know, but this annoying know-it-all of a man once told me that we can do anything as long as we’re together,”
Ilgaz snorts in what sounds like the closest thing he can manage to a laugh and Ceylin chooses to take it as a personal achievement.
“That’s funny,” he tells her, “This bossy, stubborn, reckless woman once told me that nothing is impossible if I’m by her side,”
He uses her own words against her and she can’t help but smile at him. Those words feel like they are from another life and it amazes her that she meant them then. Yet at the same time that Ceylin couldn’t possibly imagine how true they would ring now.
“They sound smart,” She says, “maybe we should listen, huh?”
“Maybe we should.”