Tears of love

18 | 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲

Oguz's father had opened the door and invited her inside, but Nehir couldn't read anything in his eyes. There was only a deep sadness. She had no idea whether he blamed her for his son's death or not.

The first room was a small hall, big enough for only two people to enter without actually going into the other rooms. Nehir moved to take off her shoes, but Oguz's father stopped her.

"We don't have any slippers," he said.

Nehir nodded, and he led her to the living room. It was small with a couch, an armchair, and a small table. She noticed pictures of Oguz as a child and even one that had to have been taken a few months before his death.

At the sight of those pictures, her heart ached. He looked so happy. There was no sign of the sadness and fear that had been in his eyes in his last moments. She would have loved to remember him that way. Instead, when she thought of him, only their last moments passed in her mind.

"Did you love him?" Oguz's mother asked.

She had noticed the way Nehir stared at the pictures and the tears in her eyes. She nodded.

"I loved him so much. I still do."

A few tears started falling on her cheeks, and Nehir wiped them fast. His parents were suffering more. They had lost their son. And Nehir had been the one to lead him to his death.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, tears still falling on cheeks. "I am so sorry. I never meant for this to happen."

In a second, Fatma wrapped her arms around Nehir, hugging her. She didn't realise how much she had needed that.

She allowed herself to cry in the woman's arms, even though a part of her was screaming. What was she doing there? How could she dare to show up in front of them? She was the reason their son was dead! She had been selfish, and Oguz had died because of that. Instead of letting him go, instead of accepting her fate, she had tried to find a way out. And she had sentenced him to death. 

"It's my fault," she whispered, pulling away. "I should have... I should–"

"No," Oguz's mother said. "It's not your fault."

"Oguz died for what he believed in," Ali added.

"If I had been more careful," Nehir argued. "If I had given up, he wouldn't be dead. Why does it matter what he died for? It won't bring him back to life."

Oguz's biggest mistake was loving her. It was what had gotten him killed.

"It matters," Ali said. "If we can't die for what we believe in, then what is the point of life?"

Nehir didn't know what to say to that.

"Sit," Fatma said, pointing towards the armchair. "Please, tell us what happened."

Nehir sat and wiped her tears. She took a deep breath. The thought of reliving what had happened was terrifying. But they deserved to know the truth.

"Oguz was supposed to meet me near the house," she said, forcing her voice to remain strong. "We didn't want to risk being seen. We had made a plan the night before. Bora must have heard us."

"Your younger brother?" Fatma asked.

Nehir shaked her head. "He is no longer my brother. He never has been."

She surprised herself with the firmness of the words. Nonetheless, she did not regret them.

"He was already in the car when I got in. With a cousin. He had a gun to Oguz's head and forced him to drive to an abandoned cottage. They dragged us inside. I thought they wanted to kill us both, but..."

She had started crying again. Still, she couldn't stop.

"I begged them. I said I would never see Oguz again. I said I would marry whoever they wanted me to marry. I told them I would do anything and begged them not to kill him. But they didn't care and–"

She couldn't continue. She couldn't bring herself to tell them that Oguz had been killed. She couldn't.

Nehir covered her face with her arms, trying so hard not to sob uncontrollably. She failed.

She didn't notice Fatma getting up from the couch until the woman hugged her again. Nehir rose and cried in her arms.

Oguz was dead. The thought caused her pain. She felt as if someone was squeezing her heart more and more by the minute. As if she would never feel happiness or love again.

She found herself missing the numbness that had taken over her during the road to the Uçars' house. At least then, she hadn't felt the pain. Did it ever go away? Did that pain become easier with the passing of time? She doubted.

How could people manage? How could they face such pain? It was as if sinking in a bottomless ocean. As if someone was stabbing her heart again and again and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

And she had to live with that pain. She had to. Because someone had to make her family pay. No one had managed before, but she had to. All those who had stood up to her father died, but that couldn't happen to her. She had to live to avenge Oguz's death.

Maybe she would fail. Maybe she was trading one prison from another. She didn't know Yavuz. She didn't know what kind of man he was. But she didn't care. If marrying him would give her the slightest chance of making those who had killed Oguz pay, then she would do it with a smile on her face. Even if he was a monster. Even if her life with him would turn out to be a nightmare.

At least then, she could say she had tried.

"Who is Metin?" Ali asked. "Who is he that he can cause us so much pain and then simply walk away? When will it end?"

"One day," Nehir answered, her voice weakened by her crying. "One day, he will pay for everything. Neslihan and Bora, too. I'll make sure of that."