Constantinople's Cherry

II - 12. Kollarında

With each chapter of this story I write, the events of the world take a new turn. With what's happened between Saudi Arabia & Turkiye, and has led among other things for Hande to lose her job, I repeat that this story is fiction based on historical facts and has no intention to hurt the Turks, or insult them in any way.

Mustafa Kemal committed many things I disaprove of, but I get why the Turkish respect him, and specially women. I write this story in the same spirit of his modernising and laik thoughts, as you can guess from my main characters' acts and behaviours.

On the other hand, Armenians were once again victims of hate crime on New Year's night, several Armenian restaurants of Jerusalem were attacked and destroyed by Zionists :(

Read it with an open mind, and feel free to let me know if there is anything that is offending, hurtful or that you wish to discuss.

....

"Where are you staying ?" Eda's thumb stroked Serkan's palm.

"A hotel, I do have some money, I came throught the Catholic French Church, they have a few places here for Armenian rescapees." Serkan explained.

"Is it safe, we could... maybe get you something better ?" Eda looked at Ceren.

"I think it's mostly safe." Serkan breathed looking between them.

"Tamam, you let me know if you need anything Serkan, anything." Eda pressed, she felt responsible of anything wrong that could happen to him on her land from now on.

Ceren rose. "I'll see if we can get some place thought." She said pointedly to Eda.

"Please eat something, I uh, I'll come tonight." She said locking eyes with him and he knew what she meant, they needed to talk, somewhere more private.

"Would you ? Wouldn't you be taking risks..." He hesitated, not knowing what to make of her behaviour.

Eda shook her head. "I will come." She promised.

Serkan agreed, writing down the address, and Eda insisted for him to eat again, he denied, he didn't felt hungry, his stomach churned since his arrival, he didn't knew if it was the train journey from Paris or being on this land again.

Ceren sat on his vacant seat as Eda absently stared at the wooden table.

"How did he suddenly come back ?" She asked.

Fifi joined them, an apron on her shoulder. "That was your Serkan ?"

Eda looked up at them, eyes full of tears as she played nervously with her hands. "Evet."

"Was he deported ?" Fifi asked.

"He escaped, with his sister. But his parents were killed, he was so young then..." Eda closed her eyes, sniffing the tears away.

"He came to you after everything, he must love you so much." Ceren noted thoughtfully.

"Do I deserve it ?" She felt the tears drop. "How can I ever make it up to him ?" She said with a pained voice.

"Oh Eda, you know nothing is your fault." Ceren stroke her hand and Eda nodded, wiping her eyes.

"Does he know that you - " Eda cut Ceren.

"No, he doesn't. We just met this morning and, I don't want him to know." Eda firmly stated and looked between them.

"Why ? He is Armenian." Fifi said, pointing the obvious.

"Yes, but he was in France all this time. The less he knows the better. I don't want him to be in danger again, or to have any kind of target on his back, so no one mentions anything infront of him, tamam ?" Eda looked at them sternly.