️⚠️ PLEASE READ AUTHOR'S NOTE ⚠️
Author's note:
Hello my fellow readers,
First I want to apologise, I know I said this was going to be the last chapter of this story, so I can start with book #2. But when I finished writting it, I end up with a over 6,000 word chapter, which is fine. But then after I edit it, I ended up with over an 10,000 word chapter. So I had to find a spot around the middle to cut it, and I was please to find it, since I am not a big fan of writing super long chapters. 😂🤦🤣🤦😂🤦🤣
So, this will be part one, and Part two I will be posting it in a little bit, since I'm almost done editing it. 🥰😊
I hope you like the chapter, and thank you all for liking this story as much as you do.
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Previously:
Can's POVE
I arrive at the house and her car wasn't there, either way I walked in the house and Mrs. Mabule wasn't there either. No one was home, I brought my hands up to my head thinking on what to do, I walked up to our room and I see her cloth is there, I walked in Buluts's room his stuff is there too. So, I walk down stairs and as I am walking towards the kitchen I see four sticky notes on the the kitchen exhaust.
I just look at them, not reading them. I finally get the courage with a deep breath,
and start to pull one by one down.
I put the first sticky note on my right hand, and read it, "I can't do this anymore."
I grabbed the second one, and put it on top of the other one. And I read "I'm taking Bulut with me, Mrs. Mabule is also with me."
I take another breath, and I grab the third one, and also put on top of the other two. "You don't love me." I read as my eyes are starting to build up water.
I look up and grab the last sticky note, put it on top of all the rest, the I looked out into the garden and back at the sticky note and read, "I want a divorce."
"FUCK!" I yelled as I punch the counter.
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Can's POV (Still Oct. 6, 2017)
I took my phone out of my pocket and called her, but she didn't answer. I waited about five more minutes and I called her again, and nothing. So, I waited a couple more minutes and I called her again. Since she wasn't answering at all I decided to send her a text message.
I called her three more times, and nothing. So I decided to text her. <Where are you? > I sat on the table and I started to flip the phone on my hand waiting for her to respond. Five minutes later my phone rang. "Nazlı, Where are you." I asked nervously.
"I'm not going to keep it from you because either way your going to find out. But I'm a hotel..."
"Hotel? No you need to come home."
"No can, I'm not going back."
"Nazli, please." I begged
"No!" She firmly whispered
"Ok, then tell me the hotel's name. I will be on my way and we can talk.
"Can, no. we can talk tomorrow."
"But Nazli..."
"Can, tomorrow."
"Ok, where?" I finally gave up.