Together Again

Chapter 19

Eda sat by the riverbank, her feet dipped into the cool water, the soft current flowing around her. The evening light filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground. Her journal lay beside her, half-open, its pages fluttering in the breeze. But her gaze was distant, lost in thought, as she watched the water move in endless motion—just as her life had, ever since that day.

It had been over a year since she disappeared, and the weight of that time sat heavy on her chest. She had survived, yes, but at what cost? What had she really gained by running away? She had thought the distance would give her clarity, that in the quiet of the wilderness, she could finally escape the guilt and the memories that clung to her like a second skin. But now, a year later, she found herself more lost than ever.

She reached for the small leather pouch at her waist, pulling out her phone. The screen was cracked, the battery almost dead, but it was still functional enough for what she needed. She had long since stopped reaching out to anyone, had long ago deleted the contact information of people who mattered, to stop herself from doing something impulsive. But today, as she stared at the screen, her fingers hovered over an unsent message—a message she had typed months ago but had never sent.

It was to Serkan.

Serkan,

I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to send this to you, but I need to write it anyway. I need to let it out before I lose the courage to face it all.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry for leaving without a word, for disappearing without explanation. I thought I was doing the right thing by leaving, by sparing you from the burden of me. But I was wrong. I should have trusted you. I should have told you how much I needed you, how much I loved you, how much you meant to me.

Every day without you has been a battle, Serkan. I thought the distance would make it easier, that somehow, I would forget the way your voice sounded when you held me close, when you told me everything would be okay. But the further I get from you, the clearer it becomes—I can’t escape the truth. I can’t escape how much I still care, how much I still need you. And maybe that’s the problem. Maybe I’m too weak to be the person you deserve.

I don’t know what happened, how it all slipped through my fingers. I just... I thought you would be better off without me. I thought I was doing the right thing. But every night, as I lie here in the silence of the forest, I wonder if things would have been different if I had stayed. If I had believed in us, in the love you offered me, instead of running away in fear.

Maybe I don’t have the right to ask this, but if you ever get this message, know that I never stopped thinking about you. I never stopped caring about you. You were never a burden, Serkan. I was the one who couldn’t see it.

If it’s not too late... if you can forgive me... I hope to see you again someday. But if not, I will understand.

Always yours,

Eda.

Eda’s thumb hovered over the “send” button. The idea of actually sending it to him made her chest tighten, her heart hammering in her ribs. What if he never wanted to hear from her again? What if her message only made things worse, bringing back the pain she had tried so hard to escape?

But as the moments passed, a quiet thought echoed in her mind: Maybe it’s time.

It was a thought that had been growing over the past few weeks, a flicker of something she couldn’t ignore. Being here, in the heart of nature, had given her peace—more peace than she had ever found in the life she left behind. The solitude, the quiet of the forest, the freedom to exist without the weight of other people’s expectations—it had all been a balm for her wounded soul. But it had also given her clarity.

She loved nature. The sounds of the wind through the trees, the feeling of the earth beneath her feet, the scent of the pines and the rivers—it was the only place where she felt truly at home. But it was also where the silence grew the loudest, where her mind would wander to the one person she had tried to forget.

Serkan.

He had been right there, and she had run from him, not because she didn’t love him, but because she feared her own flaws. She feared being the weight that would drag him down, the shadow that would keep him from the life he deserved. But what if she had it all wrong? What if love was about accepting each other’s flaws, about being there for each other no matter the darkness?

She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. She had tried to outrun her heart, but it seemed that no matter how far she went, it always pulled her back. Maybe that was a sign. Maybe it was time to give him a hint, to stop running, to stop hiding from the truth.

Eda slowly pressed the “send” button.

It was a simple act, but it felt monumental. The message was out there now, floating in the digital ether, unanswered—for now. She didn’t know if Serkan would ever read it, or if he would even want to hear from her after all this time. But something inside her told her that sending it was the first step toward something she had been denying for far too long.

As the phone buzzed with the confirmation that the message had been sent, Eda stood up and walked toward the river, the cold water rushing over her feet. She watched it, mesmerized by the flow, as if trying to read the currents for some hidden answer. But there was no answer. Not yet.

Instead, Eda closed her eyes and let the moment settle around her. She had taken a step forward. That was all she could do. And whatever came next, she would face it.