Take Me To Your Heart

The Hits Keep Coming

I smirk, a little proud at how clever my boy is. "Well, he misses you." I pause, weighing whether I want to poke the bear. "Have you been to visit him since the hearing?"

He tenses. "No. I can't go to that house."

I expected that answer, but it feels unnecessarily stubborn to me. What could be more important than seeing his nephew?

We start walking, slowly trailing behind Bulut's class. I look around at the tanks, mostly in an attempt to look busy.

"I love the aquarium." Ferit offers, unexpectedly.

I'm so surprised at his show of friendliness it takes a moment before I remember to respond. "Oh, really?"

He nods. "My father and I used to love fishing. I was always so curious to see what would come out of the water." He chuckles lightly at the memory, a small smile on his face.

It's like a ray of light at the end of the tunnel and I grasp onto this small conversation, this little detail he is giving me, my heart already wondering if this means he has forgiven me. "I've never understood fishing." I say, almost giddy. "Seems like you could enjoy a day outside without bothering any wildlife."

He shakes his head at me, lightly exasperated at my apparently pedestrian understanding of the sport. "But don't you want to know what's down there?" He presses, turning to look at me with an eyebrow raised. He's being playful, my heart screams, relief bubbling in my chest.

"So jump in then!" I laugh, throwing my hands in the air. It feels so good to joke with him like this. It feels like hope. Maybe our friendship is salvageable, maybe that horrible night can be put behind us.

He rolls his eyes, but lets it go, probably writing me off as a lost cause. His smile disappears as he turns to business. "How are you finding working with Emre?"

"Fine. He's very thorough." Emre's binder had a few locations with some potential, but I'm having a hard time making a final decision. Nothing feels right – the spaces are all so cold and uninviting. Unfortunately, when I tell Emre this, he looks at me as if I'm unfamiliar with the concept of "décor."

I ask the question that has been on my mind since Emre first called me. "Was this always your plan?"

"Was what always my plan." He says, placing his hands in his pockets, looking straight ahead as if to refuse to meet my eyes.

"Uh, well to have an Emre. A go between. I thought we would work together. Directly."

He stops walking and turns to me, incredulous. "You thought after you told the court that my nephew should not be cared for by me, we would work together, 'directly'?"

I blink at him, shocked. The cold returns, guilt and sorrow seeping back into my bones, a heavy weight settling over the fragile hope in my chest. How silly of me to get carried away by a gesture of politeness. Of course, he hadn't forgiven me.

"What a brief moment of reprieve that fishing conversation was." I grumble under my breath, sarcasm covering up the pain I am desperately trying to hide from his view.

He sighs, turn away from me. "There is no reprieve." He says tiredly, rubbing his forehead with this thumb. He's staring at the tank looking so run down. The sight only further plunges me down into sickening guilt.

I reach out to touch his shoulder, but he flinches away from me. My hand hangs in the air as I struggle to process the rejection. It's the first time he's refused my touch.

"Ferit, really, I am so sorry." I repeat, nearly begging him, tears springing to my eyes despite my best efforts.

He turns to continue walking, signaling the end of the conversation. I watch him walk away, my own pain overwhelming me. I feel so alone without him by my side. He was my partner in this tragedy and now he wants nothing to do with me.