Page 108 of My Lucky Star
I sighed, because that’s exactly what I’d been about to do during our dinner. Aria had stopped me. I rubbed my temples. “I’m trying to put the latest scandal behind me.”
She patted my knee. “I know. I can’t believe how much you get away with.” She rolled her eyes affectionately.
“Double standards,” I muttered, thinking of Aria. I needed her fighting spirit. I needed her.
I made a move to get up, but Burcu held her hand on my knee.
“I have something for you.” She dipped her other hand into a box on a nearby table, and handed me an individually wrapped cigar, a cutter and a lighter. It was the brand we’d smoked together, the celebration cigar after wrapping up an episode.
And there it was, staring at me like a long-lost friend. “I... quit smoking.”
She laughed, slapping my arm. “You did not!”
“I did. It’s been a couple of weeks, I think.” I glanced up at the starry sky, trying to count the days. They seemed to blend together.
“Then you’ve definitely earned one. For old times’ sake. Or maybe there’s something else we used to do that we could pick up again?” She bit her lip and batted her lashes, her fingers sliding from my arm onto my thigh.
My hands acted before my brain even caught up, unwrapping and cutting the cigar as if on autopilot. Holding the silver lighter, toasting the end of it, giving it a quick blow. I told myself I was prepping it for her, giving her hands something else to do, so she’d stop touching me, but before I knew it, I’d taken a long drag without even offering it to her first. Not a puff. A drag.
Damn this woman. She’d caught me at my weakest moment.
Giggling, Burcu took the cigar from me. “Looks like you really needed it.”
Puffing on the cigar didn’t seem to deter her from touching me. She was getting braver, much braver than she’d been three years ago. “I’d do anything for you. You know that, right?”
Her gaze dipped between my legs. The smoke burned my lungs and the familiar buzz travelled through my body. This wasn’t the right way to smoke a cigar, inhaling it for a quick nicotine hit. But I hadn’t changed my patch for a while and... I didn’t have an excuse, only pathetic weakness.
The pleasure of smoking mixed with intense shame, making me nauseous. I thought about my father and the path he was walking. The treatments. The pain. The uncertainty. He expected me to follow him – live like him and die like him. Despite my protests and tantrums, here I was, following.
I handed Burcu the cigar, leaning back into the chair. I had to get out of here.
Chapter 39
Aria
MY HEART HAD PERMANENTLYlodged in my throat, and it wasn’t coming down. I stared at the two of them, perfectly lit by warm torches and framed against the pool, mirroring the night sky. I was watching a scene inAskta Sansli. The only thing I’d never seen on TV was smoking. I watched Cem inhale his cigar like he was sucking poison out of a wound and felt sick to my stomach.
