Erkenci Kuş: Bad For Me

Chapter 16: In Which Can seeks help for his anger and unforgiveness issues

"Come in, please." A voice emerged from behind the door—a subtle beacon guiding him beyond the precipice of indecision.

Stepping into the room, Can's eyes took a moment to adjust to the soft light that spilled through the gauzy curtains. Dr Demir's office was an oasis of calm, walls adorned with abstract paintings that whispered serenity rather than screamed for attention. A bookshelf brimmed with thick volumes on human psychology and emotions, each spine promising some insight into the labyrinth of the mind.

"Mr. Divit, I presume?" Dr Demir said, rising from his chair. He was a middle-aged man with kind eyes and a demeanour that seemed to stitch comfort into the very air. His voice was calm, grounding. He extended his hand, and Can took it, noting the firmness of his grip. "Welcome, Mr Divit,"

"Please, call me Can," he said, trying to mask the tremor in his voice with a half-smile.

"Of course, Can. Please, make yourself comfortable." Dr Demir gestured towards a plush armchair. As Can sank into it, he felt the day's tension begin to ease, the chair seeming to cradle his fraught nerves.

"Thank you." Can's response was automatic as he sank into the plush armchair across from Dr Demir. The fabric was warm and inviting, unlike the cold, meticulous décor of his mother's sitting room where every cushion was a calculated placement, every smile a masked strategy.

"Would you like something to drink? Water, perhaps?" Dr Demir offered.

"Water would be good, thanks." Can watched as the therapist filled two glasses, noting the steadiness of his hand—a stark contrast to the tremor in his own when he thought about the confrontation awaiting him with Huma.

"Here you go." Dr Demir handed him the glass, their fingers brushing momentarily, a human connection that felt grounding.

"Thanks," Can murmured, taking a sip and feeling the cool liquid trace a path down his throat, quenching more than just physical thirst.

Dr Demir settled back into his chair, his posture open, attentive. "So, Can, what brings you here today?"

Can set the glass on the side table, his gaze drifting to the window where a single leaf fluttered on its journey to the ground. Fall—a time of shedding. Perhaps it was time for him to let go, too.

"It's... my mother," Can began, his words hesitant but gaining momentum like a stone rolling downhill. "She's always been a part of my life, but not in the way she should have been. She left me with my dad when I was young, and now..."

He faltered, the images of Huma's manipulations rippling through his thoughts—the lies, the deceit, the ploys designed to sever the threads between him and Sanem.

"Take your time," Dr Demir said gently. "This is a safe place for you to explore those feelings."

Can's hands clenched involuntarily, his knuckles mirroring the whitened foam of the sea he left behind. "I've always known she was... manipulative. But I've reached a point where I can't separate the truth from her lies."

"Understanding is the first step towards healing," Dr Demir said, nodding encouragingly. "And seeking help shows immense strength, not weakness."

Can looked up, meeting Dr. Demir's steady gaze. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he felt seen—beyond the façade of the successful photographer, beyond the scars of abandonment and betrayal.

"She's tried to ruin the best thing in my life... Sanem," Can admitted, the name tasting like salvation on his lips. "And I'm tired of being a pawn in her games. I need to confront her, but I don't know how to do it without losing myself in the process."