Price of Passion

Chapter 5: The Art of Integrity

Clad in her usual animal print pyjamas, Aslı stood by the balcony, watching Gulsum and Abidin leaving the house for work. She felt terrible for not telling them, but it had to be that way. Mert is still asleep, and so is her husband. She remembered the gentle kisses he showered her last night after he bailed her out from that cold cell. His lips were dry and cracked, but she didn't mind one bit. She loved everything about him - the way he ran his hands through her auburn hair, the low rumble of his voice, the warmth of his hard body against hers. Pacing over to their bed, she gently stroked his hair, her hands moving down his bare back, brushing over the scars that reminded her of their past.

"Ferhat," she whispered. "Gunaydin, sevgilim."

"Hmm," he groaned. "Why are you up sabah sabah? It's just 6 a.m.."

"Bilmiyorum," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "Maybe I'm just anxious for today."

Ferhat propped himself up on one arm. He reached for her face, caressing it. "Merak etme, nothing bad will happen."

She was about to protest when he pulled her into his strong arms. Ferhat buried his face into the crook of her neck, leaving a trail of kisses down her smooth skin. He could feel her squirm and giggle under his touch - he loved it that way. 

"Ay, napiyorsun?" She chuckled. "Yapma, Mert is going to hear us."

"He won't," he said.

"Ne istiyorsun benden?"

"Sadece seni," he said as he presses his lips against hers. Aslı wanted to live in that moment forever, but deep inside she knew it can never happen as long as they had problems around them. She gazed into his brown eyes as they broke apart for air.

"Ferhat," she said. "We need to get ready or else the traffic's going to be horrible."

"Tamam, Aslıcim," he groaned. "As you say."

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The air was thick with silent tension as the clock ticked away in the courtroom. Sitting in the wooden cubicle, Aslı felt exceptionally lonely although Ferhat was on the bench next to her. Sensing his wife's anxiety, he intertwined his fingers with hers. He wanted to take her place so badly, but he knew it was a war she had to fight. Her battle. Sitting across the courtroom was a face they both knew so well. Aslı felt glad to see her old friend back on the field - looking stronger than before, but she hated the irony that Ayhan was there to prove her wrong.  The judge was a big man clad in a green-collared gown, his eyebrows knit together as he studied the documents placed in front of him.

"Plaintiff representative," he said, facing Ayhan. "What is your stand?"

"The plaintiff's documents have clearly shown evidence of medical malpractice," Ayhan stated flatly in a monotonous voice. "The signature is genuine, Your Honour."

"And you, defendant representative?"

"That alone is not enough to charge the defendant as guilty, Your Honour," Sinem said. "The signature may be genuine, but the document might be forged."

"Do you have evidence for your statement, representative?" The judge asked.

"It was an assumption, Your Honour," said Sinem. "We still have to verify the document's authenticity."

A tiny hint of pride formed on Ayhan's lips. You're way better than I thought, Sinem.

"Plaintiff representative," he said, turning to Ayhan. "Do you have evidence on this?"

Looking straight into the judge's dark eyes, Ayhan closed the file on her table. She already knew his decision. "Hayır, Your Honour."

The judge nodded. He remained still for several minutes before a heavy sigh broke the silence. Everyone in the courtroom held their breaths. Aslı felt her insides collapse the moment the verdict left the judge's mouth.