These Lies Between Us

Chapter 3

"Ah, bro, my head is killing me," Ali muttered from the couch. But Bora paid him no attention as his thoughts remained with Ada.

Her emerald eyes and the way he became lost each time he gazed into them. The curve of her lips and the temptation of tasting them. The touch of her delicate, small hand entwined with his. Her laugh and the way he fell deeper with each smile directed at him. He thought of her features, and with each passing image, his feelings deepened.

But then he relived the night before. The way she distanced herself from him, trying to keep as much space between them. The gradual way she removed her hand from his. The emptiness he felt when she pulled away and the finality of her words; It was just a job, Bora bey and you. . .  you were just my boss.

Laying on his back, Bora stared up at the ceiling, with his arms tucked behind his head, as he remembered Ada's sharp words. He was about to inhale a deep breath before Ali's big head leaned over him, disturbing his thoughts, "Yo, cousin, you okay? You look like crap."

Bora waved Ali's head away as he sat up in bed. "I'm fine, Ali. Just hungover," Bora replied with noticeable irritation. He was sure Ali was right; he must have looked terrible with the lack of sleep he got.

Last night Ali had come over, and they spent the night drinking in silence, the rain tapping the roof the only sound between them. Being a light drinker, Ali had passed out on the couch by drink three, whereas Bora found no comfort in the number of glasses of bourbon he downed. But, as hard as he tried, he couldn't rid his mind of Ada. So for hours, Bora had laid in bed staring up at his bedroom ceiling with a head full of Ada as the sun rose and drew in a new day.

Swinging his legs out of bed, Bora was overcome with dizziness. His head felt clouded, his chest heavy, and he burst out in coughs. Ali swiftly stepped away, "I don't think you're just hungover. I'm pretty sure you're sick."

"Unlikely," Bora said in between coughs. "I haven't gotten sick in over three years."

"Yeah, well, I hate to break it to you, cousin, but your ass is sick."

Bora gave Ali a sharp look, and Ali walked away with his arms up defensively. "I'm just saying, bro, last night you didn't look good," Ali stated as he gathered his items from the coffee table and shoved them into his pockets. "And I don't know exactly what happened since you didn't want to tell me. But I'm guessing it had to do with Ada."

"It didn't have to do with Ada," Bora quickly replied. "I just had a bad night." Then, reluctantly, "Why. . . why would you think it had to do with Ada?"

With his pockets complete with his belongings, Ali turned toward Bora and gave him a gentle smile. At Ali's expression, Bora averted his eyes, not wanting to hear what his cousin had to say. So instead, Bora hastily walked over to his closet and began to search through his clothes.

Of course, Ali had known it was about Ada. It hadn't mattered that they spent the night in silence because regardless of what mask Bora presented to the world, Ali could always see the real face he wore.

As Bora looked through his clothes, he felt a hand lightly rest on his shoulder.

"I'm fine," Bora gritted his teeth.

"Stay home, Bora. They can take care of things at the company."

"I said I'm fine," Bora repeated.

He couldn't stay home, not with his mind wandering and reliving the night before. No, he needed to keep his mind busy from returning to her. But before Bora could pick out his outfit, he burst into coughs again. This time, Ali didn't step away. "She'll be there today, you know."