I'm looking at myself in the mirror. Over the last few years, my entire world has shrunk to working, existing for my daughter, and silently praying for my love to stay.

"Mommy, it's time."

"Tamam, Zeynep." I put on my lipstick and force a smile in the mirror. I need to be the anchor for my six-year-old girl.

"Mommy... can you tell me how you met Daddy again? Please."

"But I've told you that story a thousand times, Zeynep. Haven't you gotten tired of it?"

"Not at all. When I grow up, I want to find a love just like that."

This story began ten years ago, when I was nineteen. I had been in Muğla for only a month—a bright, vibrant city where I finally tasted freedom away from the strict boundary of my traditional neighborhood in Istanbul. All I wanted was to study, but I allowed myself to feel.

The story I tell my daughter is about a love that consumed me whole. Something anyone would say belonged in a movie or a romance novel, but it was real. And today, I have to live this love for both of us.

Just pulling up the memory brings an involuntary smile to my lips. It's as if I'm seeing him for the very first time: Ferit Yilmaz. Tall, deep blue eyes, a rebel with a phoenix etched into his chest, and a confidence that bordered on arrogance. He pulled me into his world until there was no one else around. Just him.

Ferit could read me with a glance. He knew exactly what I was thinking and feeling before I even did. He gave me a terrifying sense of safety—the kind that made me want to bet everything on the roulette wheel just to live it. He could pour gasoline over my world and make me float in a hot air balloon... but he could also make me crash right into the dark.

"Merhaba, we're here to visit Ferit Yilmaz's room."

"And who are you?"

"Kaya Yilmaz."

The nurse simply nods and guides us down the cold hallway.

There he was. The imposing Ferit Yilmaz, confined to that bed, motionless for three long years. Zeynep runs over, lies down beside him, and starts stroking his hand, speaking in soft whispers.

Three light knocks sound at the door, and Hande walks in, carrying little Seyran in her arms. She gives me a gentle smile and places flowers and a box of chocolates on the nightstand. I can only stare at the scene. Ever since the accident, I've forgotten how to feel anything beyond this numbness. I live on automatic pilot, counting down the seconds for Ferit to wake up.

"Come on, Kaya. Let's get some coffee," Hande says, touching my shoulder gently. She knows I forget to eat. "Serkan and Seyran will stay here with Zeynep."

I don't offer any resistance. I follow her steps down to the cafeteria just as I've done for the past two years, ever since the Bolats entered our lives.

"Why do you do this, Hande?" I ask, watching her set two cups on the table.

"Do what?" She looks at me, serene.

"This. Taking care of us. It's been two years... Why?"

Hande rests her hands on the table and looks me straight in the eye, without her usual smile.

"I was in a coma for a month and a half once. I know how devastating it was for Serkan, I know the pain of not knowing if the person will ever come back. We lived it firsthand, Kaya. We just want to be here for you."

I stay silent, watching the steam rise from my cappuccino.

"Thank you," I whisper.

"Tell me how you two met?" Hande rests her chin on her hands, curious. "You spend your days like a ghost, Kaya, and I don't blame you. But today, I want to hear your story."

I look down at my coffee, feel a warm tightening in my chest, and let the nostalgia take over.

Glossary of Turkish Terms

Aslanım (pronounced "as-lah-nuhm")
Literal Meaning: "My lion" (or "my lioness").
Context & Meaning: A very common affectionate Turkish expression used to compliment someone's strength, fierce spirit, or pride. Ferit uses it for Kaya because her honey-colored curls remind him of a lion's mane.

Aşkım (pronounced "ash-kuhm")
Literal Meaning: "My love."
Context & Meaning: A standard, widely used romantic term of endearment in Turkey between partners or lovers (used here by Aslı when addressing Ferit).

Çapkın (pronounced "chahp-kuhn")
Literal Meaning: "Playboy," "womanizer," "flirt," or "heartbreaker."
Context & Meaning: The widespread campus nickname given to Ferit due to his charismatic, free-spirited, and carefree approach to dating without taking anything too seriously.

Fıstık / Pistachio (pronounced "fuhs-tuhk")
Literal Meaning: "Pistachio."
Context & Meaning: A playful Turkish slang endearment used to compliment a girl on being cute, attractive, or striking (similar to calling someone "sweetheart" or "hottie").

Günaydın (pronounced "goon-eye-duhn")
Literal Meaning: "Good morning."
Context & Meaning: The standard Turkish greeting used to wish someone a good morning throughout the early part of the day.

Merhaba (pronounced "mehr-hah-bah")
Literal Meaning: "Hello" or "Hi."
Context & Meaning: The universal, standard greeting in the Turkish language.

Prens (pronounced "prens")
Literal Meaning: "Prince."
Context & Meaning: An affectionate nickname Kaya uses for Ferit, highlighting his charming, protective, and royal presence in her life.

Reckless Desire — Chapter 2 — The Party

You Might Also Like

No Recommendations