That moment of jealousy, the sudden decision to take her hand and drag her away from that party and that intrusive man, gave a completely unexpected course to my life and hers. I am Can Divit, a restless, possessive and impulsive albatross, who perh...
After the discussion with Can on the promenade I had spent a troubled night and got up in the morning in a stormy mood. I was aware that I was going to miss the agency and vitality of that colourful and creative place so much. I was aware that I would miss it so much, but I could no longer stay there, I could no longer have anything to do with Emre and .... it was time to get out of Can Divit's life for good. The task ahead of me now, however, was to talk to my parents as soon as possible and that was no easy task. We were only a few days away from the wedding date, and my mother was constantly listing the many things that still needed to be done to make everything perfect, while I was trying to imagine the best way and the best time to tell her that there would actually be no wedding. It wasn't until late in the morning that I felt ready, I had decided to talk first to her and then to my father because I didn't have the courage to face them at the same time, since always if they are together and I have to confess something I have the terrible feeling of being faced with a court martial. A deep breath and I was ready, it was time . "Mum, I have to tell you something...". The ringing of the phone interrupted me just at the moment when I had finally summoned up the courage to speak, but I could do nothing but follow with a helpless look as my mother came out of the kitchen to go and answer it. From the few words she spoke shortly afterwards, however, I knew immediately what was going on. "Hello Leyla...how? Aziz? Which hospital?" As she hung up there was no need for words, we didn't have a moment's hesitation, within minutes we were ready to leave. Reaching my father at the shop we quickly took a taxi to the hospital, where Leyla was already waiting for us.
And now here I am, walking down those long anonymous corridors and, almost breathless, I walk through the door of the emergency room waiting room. Can is there walking back and forth in front of the entrance to the examination room while he brings his hands to rub his face in an anxious gesture. My father calls out to him and when he turns around he seems genuinely surprised to see us. We catch up with him and when asked about Aziz's condition, all the worry and weight of the loneliness he is experiencing appears on his face.
In an instant I think back to the humiliations of the last few days, the contempt he has shown towards me every time he has had the chance, and the harsh words he has had for me, yet I cannot resist. Instinctively, without thinking, I approach him, hugging him tightly, trying to reassure him that everything will be fine. His huge arms hold me in that unique way, capable of making me feel small and safe, so that for a few moments all that divides us is forgotten. Let there only be the warmth and comfort of holding each other in an extremely difficult moment. I know that he needs it and I, in spite of everything, cannot stop myself from making him feel that he is not alone; on the contrary, I want to take care of him just as my boss did with me, a few days earlier, by caringly dressing the knee wound of an almost unknown employee.
Eternal minutes pass until the doctor's call pulls us forcefully out of that space where, despite ourselves, we end up losing ourselves every time we are near. Can is the first to wake up and moves to join him without letting me go, he keeps holding me close to his side as if we were really a couple in love and I were his life partner. He leaves me onlu when the doctor invites him to follow him to see his father while I sit with my parents waiting for him to come back to give us news. We are all genuinely worried about Aziz who has turned out to be a very good person and, in a few short meetings, has managed to win my heart as well as that of my whole family.
As often happens to me with Can, I feel his presence even before I see him when, shortly afterwards, he re-enters the waiting room and looks almost amazed to find us still there and thanks us for coming. My mother rushes to hug him reassuringly. 'Son, you and Aziz are now part of our family, it's no bother at all'. My heart aches at those words and I can't help but feel terribly guilty about everything that is happening between us and imagine the repercussions our decisions may have on our loved ones.
But here's the kötü kral, the evil king, turns towards me catching my eye and, holding out his hand, whispers softly. "Come Sanem, my father has asked to see you to reassure you that he will be well and recover in time for our wedding". I gasp at those words, I lower my gaze to his outstretched hand in a gesture of invitation as I realise what those words entail. How can we now tell that poor man in the hospital bed that there will be no wedding? How can we then tell my parents who have rushed here to support Can and his father, who for them are already part of our family? Our glances meet in a silent duel of accusations:
"You lied to me"
"You wouldn't listen to me"
"You know we have to do this too"
"This cannot be the solution"
"How can we disappoint our parents?"
"There must be another way"
"There isn't, there never was".
In my heart I must eventually admit that this is the case, my parents would be annihilated by the annulment of the marriage, but for Aziz, in his current state of health, such a disappointment could even be fatal. He has shown he cares a lot about this ceremony by making a long journey back to Istanbul and now, after an illness that took him all the way to hospital, his first thought is for us and our marriage. There are now only a few days left, if I want it to be cancelled I have to speak as soon as possible, that much is clear, but how can I do such a thing right now?
Once again I find myself deciding whether or not to take that outstretched hand towards me.
In a few moments the situation is clear to me. I know I must do it, I MUST go with him and agree to marry him.
It is inevitable and has been since the beginning of this whole story.
I nod as, however, I direct him a look that is a clear warning message.
'I have to accept, but don't think it will be everything as you decide'.
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My trembling hand moves as if in slow motion to take his, which grips it tightly and takes me away with it. We walk side by side without looking at each other as we are both aware that we have made a definite choice. We have just decided our fate, for better or for worse.
As I follow him in my mind the same questions repeat themselves that a naive girl had asked herself, not many days before, leaving an elegant party in the company of a charismatic but almost unknown man.
In all fairy tales, in the dark forest... There is a voice that whispers and calls us towards danger. The evil king, with all his charm, drags us into these dangerous adventures. As soon as they enter the forest, the princesses go to the evil king, knowing that their hearts will be destroyed. And where am I in this fairy tale? Will I accept what I am destined for? Or will I go, dragged away by an evil king who will destroy my heart?
Apparently I finally decided to accept what I am destined for, but the question now is: will I allow the evil king to destroy my heart?
