Page 65 of My Turkish Fling
I sniffed behind my finger wall. “But it’s true. I should work on myself before I even dream about dating again.”
“When is that magical time going to come? When is anyone ready? You can’t work out your issues in isolation and then present yourself to society all healed and perfect. If it worked that way, I’d be healed and perfect.” He huffed, looking away. “I met you at your most vulnerable, and I’m forever grateful for that, because at any other moment in your life, you wouldn’t have looked at me twice.”
My head jerked up at the suggestion and I dropped my hands to my lap, revealing the tears I couldn’t hide. I couldn’t hide my smile, either. “I would have! You’re very noticeable, Emir. You know that, right?”
He looked sad. “I’m used to working behind the scenes. People don’t ask me questions about my life, or my thoughts on anything. The way you look at me and talk to me…” He rubbed his forehead, and my heart wobbled. “This probably sounds lame, but I feel like I’m trying to make sense of who I am. I haven’t told these stories about myself. I’ve told them about Cem. I could talk about him for hours because that’s what everyone wants to hear. But I don’ttalk about me. And every question you ask me, every thought we exchange that doesn’t involve my brother, I struggle, because I’m answering it for the first time.”
I noticed color rising to his cheeks and his eyes burned with sincerity.
“It gets easier. I’m interviewed all the time. I know how to recite these stories about me. Once you tell your story a hundred times, it rolls off your tongue without a second thought. We end up becoming the stories we tell about ourselves. If you haven’t told your story for a while, you have a chance to tell a new story.”
“That’s what dating is, isn’t it? Packaging yourself in some kind of digestible format.”
I let out a deep sigh. “And that’s why it’s so exhausting.”
“The things that happened to me… the engagement, managing Cem, even the family business… I’ve been thinking of them as things I failed at.” He picked up a saltshaker and placed it on the table between us, staring at it. “Things I put in this silo in my mind that I never wanted to think about again. But they led me here. Maybe everything had to happen that way, in that exact order. Because I feel more alive than before, like I’m breathing in more air.” He held my gaze almost desperately. “I can’t go back to how things were. How I was.”
“Then don’t. I love seeing this side of you. It’s a privilege to peek inside your silo.” I grabbed the saltshaker and sprinkled some salt on my palm, then swiped it with my finger and had a taste. “You are endlessly fascinating, Emir. Back in the day, I would have loved to interview someone like you.”
He scoffed so softly it was half-way to laughter. “I’m glad I never saw you on TV. I would have dismissed you. I don’t trust… actresses. I didn’t trust you at first. I thought your smile was fake.”
I had to laugh. “I think it is, sometimes, but I can make myself feel better by smiling.”
“I can see that now. I wish I could do the same.”
“Maybe you just need practice.”
His mouth curved a little and I cheered. But I felt the truth in his earlier words. There was so much faking in this world. “I don’t particularly trust people in the media either. There are some good ones but twice as many with giant egos. That’s partly why I wanted out. I wanted something more authentic.”
“Me, too.”
“What was it like,” I asked, “all that media circus around your brother? Life of luxury and celebrities?”
“We didn’t grow up rich. Cem… he’s our goose with the golden eggs. I saw the potential and I wanted to see if he could be the one in a million. I never imagined it would turn out that way. And when it did, I think I got caught up with all that. Growing it. Maintaining it. Maintaining him. You must understand that Cem is, he always was, a bit sheltered. He didn’t have to worry about money. He probably doesn’t even remember the time our father’s business nearly went bankrupt. He was pretty thrown by the sudden fame. It was a lot to deal with. So, I dealt with most of it. I saw the ugly side, the leeches, and the inflated egos. It’s a tough business, I’m sure you know.”
“I do.”
“So, why is this place your favorite?” He asked, examining the array of fingerprints on the glass table.
I bit my lip, staring at the pile of paper napkins. It wasn’t the fanciest place, but that was part of the charm.
“I think it’s because of the view, as much as the food.” I nodded at the horizon where the last glow of sunset still lingered. “And the fact that it’s within my budget. Anything with tablecloths is out of the question right now.”
“I completely understand.” He leaned his elbows on his knees, running his fingers through his hair. “I need to sort out my finances, which means turning my father’s antique business around. It’s turning a profit, but only just. The whole place needs an overhaul.”
“And it’s in Istanbul.” It wasn’t a question, I just needed to hear that sentence out loud.
“It’s in Istanbul,” he repeated, voice heavy, eyes full of regret as he turned to stare at the vast ocean.
Maybe he needed to hear himself say it, too.
I picked up one of the paper napkins and started folding it into a swan. “I could try to make the farm more profitable. Grow more food, keep more animals. I just don’t think I have it in me. Maybe that’s why I jumped on this documentary idea. If I can sell that…” I sighed because I hadn’t thought any of it through. “I don’t know. I can live on my salary from running the film office. It’s easy and fun. But it doesn’t pay enough for travel.” I glanced up at him, holding my breath. “I’d have to move back to Auckland, try to get back on TV.”
I shuddered at the thought of those early mornings. The constantstress and scrutiny. Even with all the uncertainties of my current situation, life was a lot more relaxed right now. “It took me decades, but I’ve finally learned to value my own wellbeing. I might have some clout left I could capitalize but can’t go back.”
“I understand.” He turned back to me, his mouth a straight line. “I’m not asking you to uproot your life. If I had a place like yours, a life like yours, I wouldn’t move back into the city, either. I don’t even want to think about going back to Istanbul. The people. The noise.” He exhaled a low growl. “But I have no choice. I have to get my affairs in order. I have to make something of myself. I can’t ask you to marry me like this, with nothing to my name.”
Someone must have whacked me with an invisible ping pong paddle because my lungs suddenly flattened. “M-marry me?” I choked out, blinking like an idiot.
