BLACK ROSE (COMPLETED)

14 -

I went to check the door. When I opened it, there stood my uncle, his short, curly, light brown hair contrasting with his thick glasses.

"How are you, my dear Ece?" he asked as he and my aunt entered. They removed their shoes.

My aunt Sema, with her wavy, long hair and carefully applied makeup, looked as elegant as ever, not showing her 45 years at all.

It was equally hard to believe my uncle was 52. He went to the gym once a week. Keeping up with such a charming wife wasn't easy, of course.

"I'm fine, how are you?" I asked, standing at the door and taking their coats to hang in the wardrobe. "How was your journey?"

"Oh, long trips always make my feet swell," said my aunt Esma.

Fatih joined us casually, greeting my uncle and aunt with a warm "Welcome."

"Thank you, son," my uncle replied. "Welcome to you too. Your name is Fatih, if I remember correctly? How are you, dear?"

It seemed Fatih's plan had worked. My uncle and aunt had no problem with me having a boy over while they were away.

"Thank you, Uncle Selim. I came over after school yesterday. I spent some time with Ece. I hope that's okay with you."

Fatih moved closer and gently wrapped his arm around my waist. Focused on his role as my boyfriend, he was softly caressing my belly under my shirt.

If I didn't have to put on a show for my uncle and aunt, I'd break Fatih's hand. Then, I'd bite the hand of the doctor who put it in a cast, but anyway... I'd just have to grit my teeth a bit.

"No worries," my uncle said. "This is practically your home now, Fatih. You can come whenever you like. Our Ece is under your care."

Using my telepathic power, I glanced into my uncle's mind. His thoughts didn't surprise me: "I hope Ece has gotten close with this boy."

Oh, great! Why didn't I have conservative parents who'd say, "If you're not home by 10 PM, I'll break your legs"? Okay, maybe they wouldn't have to actually break my legs, a bit of roughing up and a slight bone fracture would do.

Fatih's hand was still under my shirt, and I didn't like it. To avoid a hormonal surge from his fingers gently moving across my bare skin, I tried to escape by saying, "We were just about to leave. Right, Fatih?"

"Yes, my dear Ece," he said, kissing my cheek. He was perfect at playing the boyfriend role.

"You put on your shoes," I told Fatih. "I'll go change into my jeans and be right back."

I quickly headed to my room. I took off my leggings and put on my navy jeans from the wardrobe. I was ready. Just as I was about to leave my room, my aunt Esma appeared at the door.

"Ece dear, can we talk for a couple of minutes before you go?"

"Of course."

When my aunt gestured towards my bed, I sat down. She joined me, sitting beside me.

Yes! I thought she was going to scold me. Please, let her scold me! I wanted a classic, strict, heavy-handed Turkish aunt. Was that too much to ask?

"It seems you've been spending time with Fatih lately," Aunt Esma began.

"Yes."

I gave a short answer. If I exaggerated, saying Fatih and I were dating, that I was in love with him, holding hands, cuddling, I could get my ticket back to my beloved old school. My uncle and aunt had promised that if I moved away from my conservative ways, I could return to my old school. But I wouldn't exaggerate. That would be a lie.

And our Prophet has a saying: "My community might commit adultery, gamble, then repent; but never ever lie." Even if someone commits other sins, it is hoped that Allah will forgive if they repent and make a U-turn. But lying is never allowed. Truthfulness is a Muslim's signature, their red line.

"Your uncle had a chance to talk with Fatih on the phone yesterday. And based on his impressions, Fatih seems like a good boy," my aunt said. "But while it's still early, I'd like to give you some advice, dear Ece."

Was she going to say, "Don't spend too much time with boys?"

Did I not take a liking to that boy?

Or was he going to guard honor by saying, "My eye is on you"?

While I waited eagerly, Aunt Esma took a deep breath and continued, "Always use a condom when you engage in a relationship. Although it's not one hundred percent protective, it's at a sufficiently high level. You wouldn't want to become a mother before even finishing high school, Ece."

Was this it then? Closing my eyes in disappointment, I murmured, "Thank you for the warning, Aunt Esma," in a faint voice.

Ugh! My uncle and aunt were both the same. Thankfully, I listened to Islam's recommendations regarding moral matters, not theirs. And when the time came, I wouldn't be with anyone other than my future husband.