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Ceylin wakes up from her deep thoughts when everyone starts to clap and cheer all together. So the couple has arrived. She stands up and turns her head towards the entrance of the hall and watches as the most important people of the night make their appearance. Flashing their biggest smiles to everyone around the room and occasionally to each other, one arm wrapped around the other, with excitement easily read from their faces, with flower petals thrown all around, with that cheesy romantic song on the background, with some enthusiastic applause and with slow steps and good wishes and happy tears and-
They make it to the stand. Tangled arms transform into tangled hands, smiles still bright. The wedding officiant invites the witnesses. They climb to the platform one after the other. One of them is smiling from ear to ear, the other… Not really. She doesn’t want to stare so she shifts her gaze back to the more excited witness. Pars actually asked her to be one. She had politely refused and said Eren would be more appropriate. She can clearly see she made a wise decision. First, it wouldn’t be okay for both of the witnesses to look like they were attending a funeral, and second, she couldn’t bear to sign anything with him, again, in that damn red hardcover book.
The “Yes”s have been said, the signs have been signed, the bride has been kissed, the groom’s foot has been stomped. Ceylin finds herself clapping with the rest of the guests and then taking her seat back. She wonders if they too have exchanged silly words on how only death will do them part. Were they ridiculous enough to believe that nonsense as well? A voice from the back of her head tells her to leave them alone. It says the problem is not with the concept of marriage or them, the problem is with her.
A romantic song starts playing as the newlyweds are left alone on the stage. They start swaying, gazing into each other’s eyes and Ceylin tries too hard to keep herself from gazing at his side. She shouldn’t. She should be grateful to Derya for arranging separate tables for both of them. She tries not to imagine how it would be if they were like before. How he would hold her hand under the table resting on her thigh, how they would cheer for the happiness of their friends, how they would be the second couple to go on that stage to sway in each other’s arms. No. She really has to stop her mind from making this event even more painful than it already is. However, the second slow song that just starts to play doesn’t help her with that. She watches as other couples join the bride and groom on the stage, one after the other.
Ceylin tries to focus on other things. She starts by examining the wedding decorations on the table. For some reason those look too much for her, there are just too many flowers and they have used too much gold. She switches her attention to the rest of the decorations in the room. The silk bows on the back of the chairs are too big and there’s too much tulle everywhere. She knows it's a wedding, a pleasant event, but everyone seems too happy, it feels fake. And she wonders if it’s only her but the music is suddenly too loud. Also, there are so many spotlights in the room that it hurts her eyes. Her feet are already aching from the high heels she’s wearing. She’s used to wearing heels but these are just too fancy. Her dress is making her itch, she knew she shouldn’t have worn this one. As if it’s not enough, the guy sitting next to her apparently took a shower with his cologne, hence, even breathing makes her stomach turn. Speaking of breathing, her bra feels too tight, hurting her ribs and making it harder to breathe. Her chest is tightening and it feels as if her lungs can’t expand enough to fill the adequate amount of air. Suddenly it gets unexpectedly hot in the room and it’s like there’s no air left. She tries again, no, she can’t breathe. Her chest tightens even harder. She can’t do this anymore. She needs air.
Ceylin doesn’t know how she held herself until that stupid slow song ended. The moment something more upbeat started playing, she had thrown herself out of the room through a side door that she is thankful for existing. Now that she put some distance with the wedding room, she immediately starts looking for a way to reach fresh air. The hall is located on the second floor hence she can either take the stairs, which she isn’t sure if she is capable of, or she can find a window. Which, there are plenty of but none of them seems openable. That’s when she spots a balcony door and runs toward it.
The cold winter air hits her face like a slap. She takes it in as much as she can, breathes deep, breathes hard. She feels like crying but she keeps her tears at bay. She can’t ruin her makeup and she clearly can’t cry at her friends’ wedding. The wedding which she can’t even properly attend, she reminds herself. What a friendship, huh?
It dawns on Ceylin that she has been waiting in front of the balcony door for much too long to be considered as normal. She has no intention of going back there yet so decides to find a more isolated spot. It seems like all sides of the second floor of the building is covered with a continuous balcony, so, maybe, she can walk around. The sea on her right side, which she recently registered it’s existence, is a more tempting view than the car park on the left, hence, she picks her route. Ceylin walks slowly, reveling in the calmness of the water. They are far away enough from the Bosphorus that there are no bridge lights to be seen. It’s only the dark, endless sea except for a couple of distant ships anchored to spend the night, and maybe the moon generously glistening on tiny waves. Suddenly, the contrast startles her. She can still hear the muffled music from the event but it is only a wall now, separating the peace and suffering. A solid border between the loudness and the sound of waves, unbearable warmness and awakening cold, chaos and tranquility, lonely and alone.
She puts an end to her ever so slow wandering when she comes across a part of the balcony covered with ivy leaves, blocking most of the way. There is no reason to go further and the leaves even seem helpful for creating her a shelter from the rest of the building, at least from one side. She stands by the balcony railings while taking another deep breath and wonders how the moon stands so alone in the dark and how it keeps shining so bright.
A couple of muffled songs later, Ceylin realizes she has been out for more than enough time to be considered as appropriate. The cold has numbed her senses enough to allow her to play pretend a little more. Maybe she can find some alcohol to serve the same purpose without going out. She gives an audible sigh as she looks up and shrugs. She turns to leave and-
“Ceylin?”
Her name that awfully sounds like it was spilled from a very familiar mouth stops her in the tracks. Anxiety was one thing, but did she start hallucinating now?
She slowly turns around to see his tall figure coming behind the ivies. Was he there all along?
“Ilgaz?” It’s the only word her baffled brain can make of. She examines him, trying to make sense of the situation. He has a sad, defeated look that makes her heart sink, eyes hooded and shoulders sunk.
“I-” She starts but he cuts her off speaking at the same time. “Oh sorry, go ahead.”
“Please, Ceylin, you go first.” He insists. There is no point in arguing for such a thing, they argue about almost everything else anyways.
“I went out to take some air. You know it got so hot in there at some point, with everyone dancing and…” Why does she feel like she has to even validate her breathing some air to him?
“How long have you been out for?”
How can she answer that without lying and without making it look as pathetic as it already is?
“I don’t know…” She lowers her eyes. “It’s been some time, I guess. You?”
“I went out after the first dance but I don’t know how long it has been as well.” He stares in her eyes and tells the solid truth as if it’s nothing. Unlike her, he never hid his vulnerabilities, Ceylin thinks, why would he now?
At that moment, Ilgaz’s expression subtly changes. She watches as his eyes travel over her body and his brows draw together.
“It’s freezing outside. You must be so cold.” He says as he starts taking off his coat.
“Ilgaz, please. There is no need. I’m not cold.” She rushes while trying to stop her eyes from watering the gazillionth time this evening. Of course, he had his coat on while going out while hers was probably rolled up on some seat in her car since she didn’t want to pay extra for the cloakroom. God, why does he have to make it so difficult?
“Ceylin, it’s just a coat!” The hurt in his eyes turns into something close to anger. His hands are out of his pocket now, adding to his expression as he exclaims. “I know you don’t want me involved with anything about you anymore, I know you don’t need my help. But it’s just a coat to keep you warm. Why are you being so stubborn about it?”
You know it’s not. It’s on the tip of her tongue but she doesn’t say it. Warmness was a privilege of having him with her, she can’t take his damn coat without him and keep her sanity as well. She gazes up, trying to hold back the tears, which are flooding her eyelids. She wants to look at the moon, to gain strength from it but it’s shining on her back now. Fuck it, she blinks and sets those tears free. What’s the point of pretending anymore?
“You don’t get it, do you?”
“I don’t get what?” He takes a step forward. The look in his eyes gets even more intense. She wasn’t even trying to push his buttons but it seems like he was already on the edge.
“Ok, do you want to know what I don’t get?” He uses his voice low, probably not to make a scene, but he is emphasizing every word, his hands keep punctuating every sentence. “I thought you wanted to be better off without me but it turns out you were trying to get used to my absence. You tried to paint me as heartless, emotionless, but you also know it’s not true. I don’t understand this show you’re putting on like I don’t know you, like we didn’t use to get what we are feeling from the look of an eye. You know I can see right through you, I still do, but I don’t get it. I don’t even know why we are in this state right now.”
Ceylin nods while biting her lip. A sob building down her throat is about to accompany her free falling tears. She knew this night was going to be hard but she never imagined it would take such a painful turn.
He’s right. It was pathetic of her to act like she’s so over him. It was naive to think she could fool him, on top of everyone. But, he also has to accept that she got him, at least for some time. He’s also wrong. Yes, he can see right through her pain, but if he could see what’s really causing it, they wouldn’t be in this state.
“Ok…” She continues through sniffles. “Then tell me, why are we acting like nothing has happened? Like I haven’t hit you from your weakest point, like I didn’t lie to you, betray you? Like you haven’t done everything to break me afterwards? When a glimpse of understanding could have changed everything, you went ahead and declared war.” She can’t help her voice to stay as low now.
“Maybe that was fair, after all I have done. But, then, it doesn’t add up. I don’t get it. Everyone told me you’d hate me for this. Even you told me that, remember? Now, why are you not cutting me off? Why do you still act like you have compassion for me, like you care for me? Like…” She can’t help herself to voice it louder than a whisper. “...you love me? I don’t really understand that.”
“Ceylin…” His voice is soft this time, almost like a whisper again. She can’t be sure since it’s dark but his eyes seem to glisten as well. He lifts his hands, trying to hold her arms but she shrugs them off. If she lets him touch her it will calm her down immediately and then, she won’t be able to continue this rant. Since they are putting everything out on the table, she should do it properly.
“Please, let me continue.” And he lets her. She takes a deep breath, she doesn’t feel like she has more energy to be as loud.
“You’ve once told me Husband Ilgaz and Prosecutor Ilgaz are the same person.” She stares right into his eyes. Even if she tried to prevent it, she is much calmer now. “Then why was it always Husband Ilgaz who showed up when it came to protecting me but it was Prosecutor Ilgaz when it came to my mistakes?”
She gives another pause. His face looks so hurt that she regrets even starting this conversation. She keeps going nonetheless, isn’t that what she always does?
“And which one am I facing at the moment? Because both should have been running away from me right now.”
“You’re the one who’s better at that.” His voice is shaking too. It looks like he’s barely holding himself. She closes her eyes and curses herself for even getting out of the hall in the first place. She had no right to turn this joyful event to celebrate into a miserable memory to tolerate. At least not for him. He continues nonetheless.
“The thing is, what you’ve done hurted terribly but not as much as the way you’ve done it so easily. But Ceylin, I never, ever in my life, thought of leaving you.”
“But you told me you didn’t know how to live with me.”
“I also told you I didn’t know how to live without you. I thought I could find a way for the former, though I never wanted to experience the latter.”
Ceylin feels her body shaking. She can’t tell if it’s out of the cold. Her jaw is clenched and words seem to lose her, but he had more to say.
“You didn’t even give us time to make it right.”
She watches as a single tear travels all the way from his eye to drop by his chin.
“I..” She has to sniffle before she continues. “I thought there was no point in delaying the inevitable. I had no hope, obviously, so I became the bad guy you didn’t want me to make you.”
She looks like she is the one who ended everything but what else could have she done if the only thing they agreed on was written on a divorce petition?
“Although, I have to remind you, our case is uncontested. You signed those papers without a single word.” She finishes.
“Ceylin! The only reason I signed that damn paper was to free you of a marriage that you didn’t want.” His voice is louder now, disbelief written all over his eyes.
She nods, chewing her lips. Oh god, it was a mess, a gigantic, awful mess.
“You assumed, I assumed, we messed up pretty bad, didn’t we? At least I did.”
“We did. Looks like we both failed the basic requirements of a marriage.”
She nods again. There is nothing else she can do, so she nods. The silence fills the air. The joyful wedding sounds are there, the waves keep crashing into the shore but it feels like dead silence. She wipes away her tears and dares to glance at his eyes again. Ceylin sees the moon shining back.
A familiar melody, a muffled one, makes its way from her ear to her heart and suddenly takes her back to one of the warmest mornings of her life. The warmth around her body, on her forehead, the warmth of the smell of eggs and sausages, the old recorder that fills the whole house with a scratchy song, this song, the warmth of waking up for the first time feeling truly belonged.
Although it’s shivering cold, she feels the warmth spreading through her heart. In a moment, the warmth is wrapping around her wrist, gently pulling her. She feels it travel the length of her forearm to spread around her waist. There’s no way she can resist it now so she lets her arms wrap around his shoulders, their foreheads aligning instinctually.
They sway softly, scared to break this delicate moment. However, it doesn’t take long for their arms to grow tighter and the distance to get smaller. She moves her arms from his shoulders to his neck as their cheeks press into each other. His head moves slightly lower. She feels the tip of his nose at the crook of her neck, the warmth of his breath on her bare skin. It’s the most warm she’s ever felt in days.
The sways are barely there when what’s been eating her mind doesn’t give her rest anymore. She’s afraid to break the spell but she’s more afraid to act like it’s not there. She uses her voice as low as it can get though she can’t keep it from breaking anyways.
“What are we going to do with us?” Her heart is beating in her ears as she finishes.
“I don’t know.” The beats sink in her stomach. “But isn’t it worth trying? Properly this time.” And they come back alive hesitantly.
“It will be hard and painful. We need to accept, forgive, maybe forget and most importantly understand.” She adds, still not believing that there may be a chance now.
“I know. But it can’t get harder than this. If you’re willing to, then I’m too.” He rubs his chin on her shoulder. She hugs him tighter as a response, he does too.
Ceylin doesn’t know how long they have been staying tangled in each other, by the ivy leaves under the moonlight. One of her arms is wrapped all around his neck while the other hand is caressing the back of his hair. His hands are sprawled on her bare back, gently rubbing and warming the skin not covered by her dress. The song ended long ago, leaving its place to many others to follow.
She whispers to his neck.
“I’m sorry.”
She hears it echo from his deep voice.
“I’m sorry.”