Fandom: Kiralik Ask
Spoiler/Summary: Up until episode 53.
Anger fuelled Omer’s every move. He couldn’t stand to look at Defne, or any of the other people in life who had betrayed him. As soon as the ceremony was over, he stormed out and drove to his mother’s farmhouse. His phone rang the entire time, messages from everyone poured in – but he ignored them all.
It took a day for his lawyer to start processing the annulment, and another few to settle his finances and sell his house. Every inch of his home held reminders of Defne. Memories lurked in every corner, every room and he couldn’t imagine living there for a moment longer, being taunted by the possibility of what could have been. Sukru packed up his things, placed most of them in storage, and the rest was shipped to Rome.
Two weeks after the wedding, he was living a totally different life than what he’d anticipated. Instead of being immersed in happiness with the love of his life, he was living alone in Rome. What was supposed to be his honeymoon felt like eternal hell. Every time he spotted a happy couple on the streets he was filled with excruciating anger and jealousy. Why? Why did Defne lie to him? Was everything between them an act? Yes, of course it was. She didn’t love him, it was simply a charade arranged by his family, and one Defne actively took part in. If she’d truly cared for him, loved him, she would have told him the truth a long time ago. Instead she’d waited until their wedding to confess, probably assuming he wouldn’t walk away at that point. But he had. Because he couldn’t bear to be around her. He hated her. Hated her, in a way he never thought himself capable of.
Yet a week later, when he returned to his new apartment to find Defne waiting for him in the hallway, he was filled with happiness. She’d followed him to Rome, suitcase in tow. Her red hair was a halo around her, curly in the way he loved so much. She looked tired, her eyes red, and his first instinct was to rush towards her and cradle her in his arms. Was she a figment of his imagination? She wasn’t really here, was she? Suddenly all that rage and contempt came rushing back. “What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded.
Defne stood up, meeting his gaze. “I came here to talk.”
“I have nothing to say to you,” he fired back. “So leave.”
He’d been drinking with some of his college buddies, and was now feeling the full effects of it. Vision slightly blurred, he fished for the keys to his apartment.
“Omer, I’m not leaving.”
Seething with rage he whirled around quickly, and found himself off-balance. Instantly Defne was there to support his fall. Despite his protests she wrapped his arm around her shoulders, took his keys and opened the door. They were inside, she helped him to the couch. He lay back on the cushions, watched while Defne went out to the hallway and returned with her suitcase.
“Do you want to eat something?” she asked, studying him with concern. “Let me get you some water. Where’s the kitchen?”
“What I want is for you to leave me the hell alone.”
“That’s not going to happen,” she fired right back, skittering away.
The world was spinning, his eyes felt heavy. He closed them. In a few minutes, he assured himself, he’d get up and force her to leave. However, he was fast asleep and those minutes turned to hours.
The moment he opened his eyes, Omer was hit with a raging headache and strong nausea in the pit of his stomach. He felt sick, gross and the smell of food wafting in from the kitchen wasn’t helping. Who the hell was in there? Shit. Who did he bring home last night? Before he confronted the recent one-night stand, however, he needed a shower. Dragging himself from the couch, he wobbled to the bathroom.
One hot shower later, he still felt queasy and hungover. And hungry.
He slipped into a pair of jeans and white knit jersey, and headed downstairs. It was only when he caught a glimpse of beautiful red hair that events from last night came rushing back. It hadn’t been a dream, or a delusion Defne was really here. His insides twisted into knots; anger surged through him.
“Get the hell out of here.”
She turned around. How could someone so deceptive and cruel radiate such beauty? She seemed to be glowing from inside, something he used to think was because of her inner goodness. But now he knew that wasn’t true. She ignored his words, and set a plate of food down on the nearby table. Basil omelette. His favourite. “Eat. You must be hungry.”
“I want you to leave.”
She slammed down a jug of water on the table. “Tough, because I’m not going anywhere. I came here to talk and that’s what we’re going to do.”
“What are we going to talk about, Defne? How you lied to me? How you pretended to love me because my family paid you? How you broke my heart?”
She flinched as if he’d slapped her. “Yes. We’re going to talk about all of that, and more. Once you eat.” Her eyes softened as her gaze wandered over his face. “I’m worried about you. You look so pale. I think you’ll feel better after you get some food in you.”
“Food isn’t going to fix my broken heart.”
Her mouth opened to respond to him but then she paused. “Please,” she finally said.
He contemplated physically forcing her out, but didn’t have the strength to do that. And a part of him, as much as he hated it, wanted to know what she had to say. “Fine.”
She sat at the opposite end of the table while he ate. Silence filled the space between them, the air tense, thick as a blanket. He missed her prattling and the wonderful conversations they once shared over numerous dinners, the way she’d filled his heart with so much love. Her confession had ripped away all of his dreams and happiness. That fiery rage returned once again, refusing to be suppressed. He stood up, took the empty plate to the sink.
“The coffee’s ready. Let me pour you a cup.”
He turned around, stared at her directly. “Don’t move. Say whatever the hell you have to stay.”
She sat back down in her chair. Her fingers rubbed against each other, linking together one minute, unlinking the next, gaze glued to the floor. “I’m so sorry. I wish there was some way I could go back and change things but I can’t. There were so many times I wanted to tell you the truth but-”
“You didn’t,” he interjected.
She finally met his gaze, and his heart twisted at the tears streaking down her cheeks. “I tried. So many times. At first it was others who stopped me.”
“So you’re not responsible? Is that it?”
“No, that’s not what I meant! When I… I know how strongly you feel about lies, how angry you’d be. I was so afraid of losing you…” She swiped the tears from her face. “What I did was wrong, there’s no excuse, but I was caught in such a difficult position that I couldn’t see a way out. I ended up falling in love with you, I never thought that would happen. It never even occurred to me. And when I realised how deep my feelings were, I tried to leave to protect you.”
The pain he felt after she’d abandoned him at the farmhouse was nothing compared to what he was feeling now. Her betrayal was infinitely more excruciating. “But you came back, and you kept up the charade. You kept lying!” he spit out venomously, fighting back tears.
“We love each other. We can work through this,” she pleaded.
“How? How the hell is that possible? Every time I look at you I’m disgusted! I’m so angry at you that I want to break you apart the way you did me.”
She winced at every word. “Please, Omer. Don’t give up on us. I love you so much-”
“Do you? Really?”
Her eyes lit up with disbelief. “Of course I do!” She stood up, advancing towards him. “I know I don’t deserve you. You’re too good, too perfect for me.” Her hands gripped his, and she brought them to her lips, laying a sweet, gentle kiss on his skin. His heart trembled. “You mean the world to me, and I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for everything. I promise.”
Omer felt his resolve softening. One look into her beautiful eyes and all of that anger melted away – but only temporarily. Because the sickening, knife-wrenching pain returned with a vengeance when he thought about the months of deception she subjected him to. “And I’m supposed to believe what you say? How can I ever trust you again? How can-”
“You promised me! You gave your word you’d stand by me,” Suddenly angry, she closed the distance between them. Her fingers fisted the fabric of his cloth as she glared up at him. “How many times did you tell me that, huh? You can’t just break your promises now. I won’t let you.” Before he could say anything else, her mouth closed over his.
Defne was pressed up against him, her beautiful, lithe body perfectly curved into his. Desire coursed through his blood. He wanted her, needed her. He loved her. And he lost himself in her completely as she kissed him frantically.
She pulled up his sweater, throwing it aside. He followed suit, nipping her skin, sucking on the hollow sensitive corner of where her shoulders and neck met.
“Omer,” she murmured, the passion in her voice eliciting a raw growl from him.
Few weeks ago he couldn’t go a day without seeing her, and since the wedding, whenever he wasn’t consumed with rage, he felt empty. But not anymore. Not when she was right there in his arms, her fingers digging into him, unzipping his jeans.
The intensity between them was at pitch-level. There was no time to be sweet or gentle when all he wanted was to be inside her and she was pleading with him to do the same. He took her against the wall, fast, furious, lost in a vortex of anger and love.
Few hours later Omer watched her sleep next to him, her face angelic, expression peaceful. So many mornings he’d woken up like this next to her, blissfully happy and in love. But it had all been an illusion, and now all of their wonderful moments were tainted, contaminated with lies and betrayal. If she could lie to him so easily for so long, how could anything be real between them? How could he ever trust again? The truth was, he couldn’t. And there was no point in deluding themselves.
She stirred next to him, slowly coming awake. He inhaled her in, etching the memory of her into his brain. “Hi,” she murmured, her voice drowsy, her smile beckoning.
He didn’t respond, simply staring at her. Finally, he sat up and moved away. With his back to her, he slipped on a pair of jeans.
“Omer?” she asked.
He turned around to find her sitting up, anxiety marking her features. “I need you to leave.”
“Every time I look at you, all I think about are your lies, your betrayal. That’s not just something I can get over.”
“So you’re not even going to try?”
He clenched his jaw. “I don’t trust you. I don’t see that changing anytime soon.”
Silence filled the air between them, her tears streaming down her face. “Don’t let your pride destroy us.”
“You ruined us, not my pride.”
She stared at him for a long while, her features frozen in pain. Finally, she stood up and started getting dressed.
Omer made his way to the verandah outside. Shortly after, he heard the door close and realised she’d left without a word. The apartment was empty and hollow once again, just like his heart.
Three years later
Omer heard her voice, and his heart started pounding. So close, and yet so far away. The sound of Defne’s laughter ringing in his ear, melodious, happy, instinctively making him want to smile. He followed the sound, pushing his shopping cart through past the other shoppers in the grocery aisle, until he finally caught a glimpse of her few feet ahead. Her back was turned to him, her glorious, red mane still calling out to him.
She was with an older woman who bore a striking resemblance to Defne. Her head was crowned with a similar shade of red but interspersed with gray, and the same features set in an angular face. They were looking at baked goods together, chatting loudly.
“Mom, what should I do? Should I bake it or not?” Defne asked.
“Come on, love. You’ll have to worry about more important things than baking a cake on your wedding day.”
“I wouldn’t bake it that day obviously.”
“Still. I think you should leave it to the caterers.”
“But he loves my baking.”
“And you’ll have the rest of your married life together to cook for him.”
He froze, blood rushed through his body as the realisation sunk in deeper. Defne was getting married. Suddenly she turned around, and their eyes met. It was as if the world stopped, and it was only the two of them lost in a dream.
Her hair was as beautiful as before, but it was straightened, not the unruly mess of curls he preferred. And her face. He could die simply staring at her ethereal face, her porcelain features.
And then she looked away, breaking the connection they shared.
He contemplated walking away, but he found himself going towards her, until he was standing directly in front of the only woman he’d ever loved. “Defne, how are you?”
Her mouth opened, but no words came out. It was a few seconds before she finally spoke. “I’m doing well. How are you?”
“Defne, I’m just going to grab something from the other aisle,” her mom declared, oblivious to the tension in the aisle.
“You reconciled with your mom.”
She bit her lip, nodding, avoiding his stare. “Yes. It took me a while but I realised forgiveness was important. I was only punishing myself by holding on to the anger. I didn’t want to let pride get in the way of my happiness.”
She may not have said the words but he picked up on the subtext. He hadn’t been able to forgive her for what she did, and she didn’t want to make the same mistakes. He’d chosen his pride over love, and it had cost him the most important relationship in his life. It was a lesson he’d learned the hard way.
It hurt to say the words, but he couldn’t seem to stop. “You’re getting married.”
“Who is he?”
“You don’t know him.”
She didn’t volunteer any other information.
“I hope he makes you happy.”
She finally met his stare. “He does.”
There were so many things he wanted to say, but couldn’t. And the hostile glint in her eyes made him realise she didn’t want to hear the words anyway.
As much as he wasn’t ready to leave her behind, he realised it was no longer his choice. “Goodbye, Defne.”
She took her cart and wheeled it away the opposite direction while Omer simply stood there, watching after her.
A/N: I usually tend to write angsty stuff with the promise of a happy ending, but this was, as you read, obviously different. Due to some tragic events that affected my dear friends, my head’s been in a weird spot lately and just not in a happy frame of mind. This piece was probably some way of my mind processing that. Thanks for reading.