as the years go passing by.

memories haunt

She turned her head away from the side of the pillow that was soaked with tears and, feeling the drier portion of her pillowcase, sighed tiredly. Her head felt heavy and her nose impossibly congested, she could swear there were tiny construction workers drilling holes into her skull.

Her hands reached out towards the nightstand, blindly searching for her phone. She squinted at the fluorescent LCD screen and saw the time

01:14

Seyran knew it was futile but her mind and fingers were not in one accord as she watched her thumb slide across the screen almost robotically. It went to call log and dialed the same number she's been trying to call incessantly for the better half of the day.

Calling. . .

aşkım ❤️

As expected, it rang and rang and went to voicemail. She felt another tear slide down her cheek and into her hairline. Where is he?

Old, dormant feelings crept into her conscience unbidden. Doubts that haven't seen the light of day for years slowly permeated her mental fortitude. She immediately scrunched her eyes tight, letting more tears fall but refusing to let her wary mind wander that way.

I won't go there. I'm not going to go there.

But even a small crack in a ceramic pot cannot hold water from seeping through.

She's never had any reason to doubt Ferit's loyalty, never had any cause to worry about his whereabouts. They have come so very far since their early days. It's nothing short of a miracle.

Ever since they reconciled- and renewed their vows- almost three years ago, Ferit has made it his life's mission to make sure Seyran never regretted taking him back into her life and her arms. Every waking hour he would demonstrate the depth of his feelings by trying to understand her (when she has a different take on things), by choosing to cherish her (even when she's not at her best), and by suffering well with her (when life happens and things go south, he'll always be in her corner).

Not to say he's without fault, because he could still be the most stubborn, opinionated man she'll ever meet on this earth, but he's yet to stop trying to be a better version of himself. Even the biggest thorn in his side- his dark temper- is no longer his master. He's able to control his raw emotions infinitely better, tempestuous feelings no longer overwhelm him to the point of volatile outbursts. All thanks to years of psychiatry. (And the fear of losing her.. but Ferit will only admit that under threat of Seyran withholding her home-made pistachio praliné from him).

At the image of his giddy face whenever she made praliné, Seyran felt another onslaught of tears. Could he really slip back to his old ways? Him, her Ferit who fought against himself, who willingly stripped bare so that he can have another shot of life with her? That Ferit?

It seemed almost impossible.. but then the human mind is peculiar. A wife will never know the entirety of her husband's thoughts, no matter how long they've shared the same bed. She already failed in anticipating his reaction towards this surprise pregnancy.

Her pregnancy.

Her hand drifted to her still-flat stomach. It was all so new and foreign to her, for the past few hours she was so wrought with her baser emotions that she didn't even remember there was a living being inside her. That made her want to bawl all over again. She already feels like she's failing in being both a wife and mother.

Though her body felt tired, her mind was sieving through every memory she could recall of Ferit being against the idea of having children. Either she was more tired than she realized, but she had no recollection of him being strongly against the idea of expanding their family. She raked her brain to recall circumstances where he was near babies or children, and there was no memory of him acting displeased with their presence.