Page 87 of My Turkish Fling
“That was even better.”
“I love you, Janie.” It sounded almost like an apology.
“I love you, too.” There was nothing else I could say. Nothing different, or original. That was the only thing that felt true.
“Did I hurt you?” He asked, finally pulling out and helping me down on the floor.
“No. You made my legs so weak I can no longer walk.”
He brushed my hair away from my face, that deep concern making his eyes even more beautiful. “I wish I could take you with me. I wish I could give you more than this.”
I shook from frustration. “I don’t care about your earnings or business or what it says on your CV. It’s not what I value. This is what I value.” I gestured the air between us. “Your honesty. That you can set aside your ego to form that connection. That’s a miracle. Why can’t you just offer… yourself? That’s all I want.”
He dropped his chin, averting his eyes. “It’s not that simple. Since my father announced his retirement, I have a responsibility. I can’t walk away. And I can’t afford to waste the flight ticket. I’m not in that position.” He looked up, his eyes filled with pain. “I bet you wish you’d found someone with resources.”
Fury swelled in my gut. “Most guys with resources are huge dicks. The richer they get, the worse they act. I don’t want anotherone of those. I want to keep you.”
Tears sprung to my eyes as my hands gripped his open shirt, hanging onto him like I was drowning. This was the exact opposite of the beautiful goodbye I’d been imagining. This was me, desperate and clingy.
His eyes met me, so full of regret I had to turn away. He pulled me into his arms and held me tight as I cried, taking deep breaths, trying to stop myself after every sob, only to sob harder. Until I finally gave up the fight, smearing his shirt and bare chest with flakes of my tubing mascara, tears, and snot.
“I don’t think I can do it in every room,” I managed to say between gasps of air. “I think I need to start pulling away. This hurts too much.”
“The last thing I want to do is hurt you.” His voice sounded choked and tight like he was fighting tears as well. It made me feel marginally better.
“I swear I’m not this much of a crier.” I pulled away to wipe my eyes with tissue I snagged from the table. “I’ve cried more in the last two weeks than the two years before that.”
“Seriously? You went through divorce.”
I sighed. “I was mostly angry. But now, I feel like I have something good, and I have to give it up because of… geography and shit. It’s so unfair.”
He pulled out chairs for us and I sat down, facing him. “I’m mostly angry with myself. I should have built my own business a long time ago. I shouldn’t have wasted years on my brother’s career, expecting this big payout that never came. I’ve had opportunities,and I’ve worked hard, but my family has lost so much with the hyperinflation… If we’d only invested in Euros and US dollars a bit earlier. Or even the crypto market. I didn’t act fast enough and… we’ve had some setbacks. I should be better than this, but I always followed my father’s lead. I never went against him. And I guess that’s why I took the job as Cem’s manager, because for the first time, I was doing something without Dad. I was calling the shots. And I was good at it. But I wasn’t good at reading people. I didn’t even notice Cem was head over heels in love. I missed all the signs. I didn’t even understand how that could derail our plans.”
I gave him a probing look. “Do you understand it now?”
He sighed his agreement.
“Let’s eat,” I said, browsing the array of colors laid across the table.
We ate in silence. Afterwards, I helped him clean the table, then found my notebook and pen.
“I’m going up to the hunting cabin to do some thinking,” I said, slipping my feet into my boots. “Alone.”
He stood in the doorway, face stony, and nodded.
It felt strange to sit on those steps, surrounded by the familiar greenery, remembering the moments I’d shared with him. That almost-kiss, and the real ones that followed. Everything he was to me, already, when I couldn’t keep any of it. I had to stay away, hide as much as possible, to survive the party and these last hours we had left. I couldn’t go any further or I’d end up with irreparable damage. It might already be too late. Everything he said and did dragged me deeper into emotional quicksand.
When I got back, I found him waiting at the doorway. Had he been waiting the whole time?
“Are you okay?” he asked.
I gave him a wobbly nod, stopping a few steps away. A safe distance. But nothing was safe when he was still with me. Still in my house.
“I’ll miss you so much.” My voice cracked as I hugged the empty notebook to my chest. I hadn’t been able to write a single word. Nothing was worthy of this day and these moments. Nothing I said could create the distance I needed.
Also, distance was the last thing I wanted.
“You don’t have to miss me yet,” he said quietly, opening his arms.
