Together Again

Chapter 11

It had been nearly three weeks since Eda disappeared. Each passing day weighed heavier on Serkan, hollowing him out. Sleep had become an afterthought, his mind unable to rest as long as she was out there, alone, and unreachable. His once-impeccable appearance had become disheveled, his eyes shadowed with exhaustion and worry. Every morning, he woke with a flicker of hope, thinking maybe today she would call, maybe he’d finally hear her voice. But the silence persisted.

His daily routine now included an almost ritualistic visit to Eda’s parents’ house. Despite knowing they’d heard nothing, he couldn’t stay away. He would sit with them, talking in low voices about her last days with them, re-reading the note she left as if he could find some hidden meaning he’d missed. Her mother’s eyes would fill with tears each time, and her father would reach out to grip Serkan’s shoulder in silent solidarity.

But as the days wore on, Serkan’s hope began to fade. He couldn’t shake the gnawing dread that something terrible had happened, and his thoughts grew darker, more desperate. How could she have slipped away so completely? He wondered where she was, what she might be doing, and if she even had the support she needed.

Meanwhile, Eda was in a place far removed from the world she had known. Her last memory before everything went dark was of the plane, of the turbulence, of the feeling of weightlessness that accompanied the sharp descent. The crash had thrown her far off course, and now she found herself stranded in a remote area she’d never intended to visit, alone and cut off from the world.

When Eda woke after the crash, she felt disoriented and weak, her body aching from the impact. The forest around her was dense, the towering trees casting long shadows. The silence was broken only by the distant chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves. She struggled to piece together what had happened, the memories coming back in fragments—the roar of the engine, the screams of passengers, the sudden jolt as they hit the ground. She remembered clutching her bag tightly, bracing for impact, and then… nothing.

Survival became her focus. She was miles from civilization, with no way to signal for help. The days blurred together as she fought to stay alive, finding water from streams, rationing the small amount of food she had in her bag, and keeping herself sheltered under the cover of trees. She was lost in every sense of the word, haunted by the decision that had led her here. But as hard as it was, she felt a strange peace in the solitude. Here, there were no whispers of self-doubt, no voices like Selin’s to remind her of her perceived failures. She only had herself and the relentless need to survive.

Back in Istanbul, Serkan’s life was spiraling out of control. His work had suffered, his focus completely fractured by Eda’s disappearance. His partners tried to shield him from the worst of it, picking up the slack as he showed up to meetings looking hollow, distracted, and withdrawn. He had taken to spending hours in his office, pouring over maps and travel plans, trying to piece together where Eda might have gone. But without any information on her destination, it was like searching for a ghost.

One evening, as he sat alone in his office, one of his closest friends knocked gently on the door.

“Serkan,” his friend began carefully, “it’s been weeks. You’ve done everything you can. We all want Eda back, but… maybe it’s time to let others handle this. The authorities, her family—”

“No,” Serkan cut him off, his voice strained but firm. “I won’t stop. Not until I know she’s safe. She left because she thought she was a burden. She thought I would be better off without her. But she doesn’t understand… she doesn’t know how much she means to me.”

The room fell silent as his friend sighed, understanding but feeling powerless to ease Serkan’s pain. Eventually, he left, giving Serkan the space he clearly needed, though everyone around him worried how long he could keep this up.

In her solitude, Eda had also begun to think about Serkan, replaying their last conversations, his reassurances, and the warmth he had tried so hard to surround her with. She thought about his patience, his kindness, and the moments they had shared, and it gave her a renewed strength. Though she had fled to escape the guilt and burden she’d believed she was, she felt the faintest flicker of hope that, if she made it back, she could tell him how much he had truly meant to her.

One day, as she trekked through the wilderness, searching for any sign of civilization, she stumbled upon a beaten path. Her heart raced—maybe, just maybe, it would lead her to a village, a road, somewhere where she could find help. Her legs were shaky, her body weak, but the hope of finding her way back gave her the strength to keep moving.

Meanwhile, back in the city, Serkan was reaching a breaking point. He couldn’t bear the silence, the waiting, the empty days that seemed to stretch endlessly without Eda. He spent every night by his phone, clutching it in his hands, as if he could will it to ring. And every morning, he woke with the same pain in his chest, a raw ache that never seemed to lessen.

The people in his life were torn between wanting to console him and fearing he would fall apart completely. Eda’s family, friends, and even his own partners watched with heavy hearts, wondering how long he could survive on nothing but hope. But Serkan wasn’t ready to let go. He knew in his soul that Eda was out there, somewhere, and he would keep searching, keep waiting, for as long as it took.