Erkenci Kuş: Bad For Me

Chapter 16: In Which Can seeks help for his anger and unforgiveness issues

The PI's office was a fortress of secrets, dimly lit and lined with shelves of leather-bound tomes that smelled of must and old money. Across from Can sat the private investigator—a human shadow, features obscured by the backlit glow of the afternoon sun piercing through the blinds.

"As you know, Yigit's past is a tapestry woven with deception," the PI began, his voice a gravelly contralto that betrayed years of cigarettes and scotch.

Can thought back to all the evidence they'd found: photographs of Yigit, captured in moments of charm and duplicity; bank statements, legal documents, testimonies—all painting the portrait of a man who had swindled hearts as deftly as he had pocketbooks.

"Fraud... embezzlement... How could he have hidden this?" Can's voice cracked with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

"Charm is the confidence man's camouflage," the PI replied with a nonchalant shrug. "And your mother—" he paused, letting the word hang between them like an unsheathed blade.

"Go on," Can urged, his voice a low growl.

"Her involvement was... instrumental. A facilitator, if you will."

"Damn her," Can spat, slamming his fist onto the table. Anger surged through him, hot and unyielding, but beneath it lurked a well of sorrow for the mother he thought he knew.

The next day brought more darkness than light. Word had spread like wildfire—Yigit kidnapped, his captors merciless. Can heard about the ordeal, his complex emotions tangling like thorns.

"Should've seen it coming," the PI mused when they reconvened. His eyes, hawk-like, missed nothing.

"Nobody deserves that," Can said, though his conviction wavered. He thought of Sanem, of the life they were building, free from shadows. Could he truly wish harm upon another, even one so undeserving of sympathy?

"Justice has many faces," the PI remarked cryptically.

And then there was Huma. News of her downfall cascaded through their social circles with glee and gossip. She stood alone now, her empire of manipulation crumbled to dust. Can saw her once, a fleeting image: a queen dethroned, her elegance unravelled, leaving behind only the bare, vulnerable threads of her humanity.

"Mother..." he whispered to himself, the word tasting of betrayal and pity. His heart ached. For all her faults, she was still blood. His blood.

***

Can Divit stood at the edge of the cliff, his eyes fixed on the churning waves below. The spray painted a fine mist over his weathered leather jacket and tousled dark hair. He had always found solace in nature's raw beauty and untamed power. Yet today, the wild panorama before him mirrored the tumultuous thoughts crashing within.

"Are you ready to take the next step?" Can murmured to himself, his voice barely rising above the roar of the ocean. The question wasn't about the precipice on which he stood but the emotional leap he was about to take. Seeking therapy felt like an admission of defeat, yet he knew it was the only way to confront the labyrinth his mother, Huma, had woven around his heart.

With a determined exhale that mingled with the salty air, Can turned his back on the ocean and made his way to his Jeep. The drive to Dr. Demir's office was a quiet one, punctuated only by the occasional hum of passing cars and the rhythmic tapping of his fingers on the steering wheel—a staccato beat to his racing thoughts.

Can stood before the weathered oak door, his hand hovering over the brass doorknob, tarnished from years of turning. It didn't look like the entryway to revelation, yet here he was—on the threshold of confronting a past that had ensnared him in a web spun by the very person who should have shielded him from harm. His mother, Huma.