Chapter Seventeen

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You are my life, I don't deserve you, but I love you just the same

He's back to square one, Boran thinks. Different women, all in a bid to block her out. But this seems so much worse somehow, because now, he knows the difference. He knows what she feels like, what she sounds like when she comes, that half cry, half little sweet grunt like she's completed a task triumphantly with her body. He knows the difference between sex that is pleasurable and sex that scorches your soul.

He's damned himself to an eternity of living without her. Before Boran had touched Miray, he had only his fantasies of her to warm his bed. He could only imagine what she would be like because they were friends and he was too old for her and he would never touch her.

And then he touched her.

Fuck.

Boran slings his backpack over his shoulder and makes his way down the stage steps to the door outside where the cool Paris wind bites at at his cheek and dances through his hair. He has two more weeks on this play and then it's back to Turkey to start shooting a new movie where Alihan is being floated around to play his little brother.

His son. A surge of giddiness at the knowledge that he will get to be near his son again grips Boran and he can barely keep the smile off his face.

"Boran! Hey!" A familiar voice calls out. Nate, an American who works on the crew for the play pulls away from the group he's with and rushes towards him. "We're all heading out for drinks to check out this jazz band. Wanna come?"

"Can I have a..." He struggles to remember what the term is. The English have the strangest expressions sometimes. "A check?"

Nate smiles. "A rain check? Sure thing. If they don't suck. I'll let you know and we can check them out later."

"Deal," he replies with a grin. He doesn't need anyone to know where he's headed after he makes his way to the temporary apartment he's staying at to shower and change. He's had the same appointment, every week for the last four months. An appointment he's kept with a different therapist that he'll be returning to outside of Istanbul when the play is over.

The tabloids would have a field day if they knew he was in therapy. It got pretty close the first year. He'd let her go for her own good, for his son's own good and the loss had nearly destroyed him. Boran threw himself into his work, it was his only refuge. The second year felt worse. Not even work could fill the hole so his cousin brought him home with her for a few months. He wasn't sure he would have made it if it wasn't for her and her little girls.. She'd guessed the truth and he didn't deny it. She urged him to talk to someone. No one in the city if he was afraid of the media finding out, but she pleaded with him to try and find some happiness after doing what she agreed was the right thing.

As intensely private as he was, he hated spilling his guts to a stranger, but his cousin was very good at using her daughters to manipulate him into keeping going. They were constantly telling him he was their favourite cousin and that they were so glad he was there and they wanted him to stay with them forever. His cousin would just smile when he would call her on what she was doing.

Gradually, he starts talking. Gradually, it starts helping. There is a different kind of pain now. He knows he made the right decision then because he couldn't have given her the life she wanted. He knows he made the right decision now because he now realized he wants that life after all. It had taken a hard look at all his fears and his ego and he'd come out the other side knowing he wanted Miray as his wife and wanted to be a father to his son. He stays away now because he wants Miray's happiness more. He wants his son's happiness more. Miray has the life she wanted with Kubilay. The first few months avoiding her was agony. Eventually, he watches her settle into the life he knows she wanted. A good home, peaceful marriage, happy son. He watches Kubilay be a good father to his son and his son flourish under that love. Boran hates the man, but he can't fault him and is even grudgingly grateful. Now, he stays away because he loves them and doesn't want to destroy their home.

His friends start poking him to find his own happiness. At first he can't imagine looking at another woman. Then, he finds he needs to look, he needs to touch, he needs to have his fill of as many women as he can to block out the ache of losing the only thing that he knows would truly make him happy, the woman and child he let go first because he was a coward, and then because he needed to be strong enough to stay away.

He makes his way back home after his latest session, drained as always, but renewed, hopeful. Boran picks up the script for the movie again and smiles at the note his agent added about Alihan. He traces the fingers of his sons name, his heart full. Boran is surprised the little boy is acting. He supposed he shouldn't be, maybe it was in his genes. That makes him smile. He could have gotten it from Miray but it makes Boran proud to imagine the little boy gets the urge from him. He doesn't know if he'd want his son acting if he'd been the one raising him. The industry can be so ugly. He can't be sad about it though because now he will have the chance to be near his son again and that will be everything.

Does the little boy even remember him?

The thought makes a prick of pain seize his heart. He was just over a year old when Boran left. Has Miray completely wiped him from the little boy's existence or does she mention him now and then?

He dreams that they're together, all three of them like a little family. In his dreams, he holds Miray whenever he wants, he hold his son whenever he wants. Everyone knows and is happy for them. When he wakes up, his pillow is wet with tears because he knows it will never happen.

Boran heads back to work for another day, another performance and loses himself for an hour and a half and is grateful that he has this refuge and can think of it as so again. He actually thinks the therapy has also helped him become a better actor. Critics seem to have agreed and he has a few more awards to show for it.

The applause has finally died down as the people start to clear the theater as he starts to pull off his wet clothes and dry off with a towel. He's not sure why he's bothering. It's raining like hell outside and he was frankly surprised they had the crowd they did considering the weather.

He's about turn and close the door before getting out of his pants when a voice stops him.

"Write anymore letters lately?"

Miray. 

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