Yaman woke up, covered in sweat.
He groaned, trying to roll over, but there seemed to be a weight on top of him, limiting his movements.
He opened his eyes, blearily.
Yildiz was lying on his chest, her curly hair sticking to his face and neck. He hadn't even noticed when she'd snuck into their room and crawled on top of him, to use him as her personal pillow. Her little body was producing so much heat and her body heat, coupled with the sunny mornings of the hot summer days, was going to give him a heatstroke.
He glanced to his right to see that Seher's side of the bed was already empty.
Yaman tried to move without waking Yildiz up, but he failed monumentally when she raised her head, blinking her big green eyes. Her small hands rested on his collarbone- the tenderest weights imaginable.
Yaman brushed her tangled hair out of her face and smiled.
"Good morning, Yildizim."
She yawned hugely and dropped back on to his chest.
"Good morning, baba," she said, voice muffled against his shirt.
He sat up and tried to place her on the bed infront of him, but she refused to let go of his shirt. Yaman gave up after a moment, hugging her close and standing up. He peered into her sleepy face.
At almost five years old, Yildiz looked so much like Seher, it was a little disconcerting to see them together. Her big eyes, the shape of her face, her lithe physique and even the texture of her hair were as same as her mother. Yaman marveled at how he got everything he'd ever wanted, in the shape of his wife and his children.
Yildiz looped her tiny arms around his neck, yawning again.
"Where's your mom?" Yaman asked.
She giggled. "She's running around..."
Ah, of course. It was a big day for the Kirimlis. And Seher had taken it upon herself to prepare everything, so it was no surprise that she would be hectic.
He opened the bedroom door, with his daughter in his arms, and almost knocked out the speedy little boy who came running at them. The boy pushed past them like a bullet, screaming his head off.
"Catch him, uncle!" Yusuf's voice rang from somewhere in the passage, a little too late.
Seher peeked out from the twins' room, holding a small white shirt, looking harassed.
"Why doesn't this boy like wearing shirts?" She asked in an exasperated voice. Yusuf came up behind her, already dressed in a neat blue shirt and black slacks. He was almost as tall as his aunt, now.
Seher blinked at Yaman and Yildiz.
"Even you guys aren't ready yet??"
She pushed the shirt at Yaman and took Yildiz from his hands.
"Here, go dress Arif up, he listens to you anyway. Come on, sweetheart. Let's get you into a beautiful dress, shall we?"
They disappeared back into the room.
Ziya came from the other side of the house, holding Arif from his armpits. He was squirming vehemently.
"Put me down!" He demanded.
"Arif..." Yaman said in a firm voice.
He went limp immediately, voice becoming small and uncertain.
"Put me down?"
Ziya laughed.
"He reminds me of you, Yaman. Remember how Yalçin and I used to chase you around the house to get you into your clothes, when we were children?"
Yaman raised his eyebrows at his brother.
Clad in a dark blue shirt with a gray waistcoat and gray slacks, he looked as smart as a pin. He was almost glowing from happiness.
Yaman stared. He'd always thought that his brother was a mild soul, immune to extreme emotions like euphoria and rage. Once he was out of the clutches of panic attacks, he always seemed content with what he had.
But now he realized that Ziya was like the rest of them- he simply hadn't been extremely happy like this before, not even when he was with Iqbal whom he seemed to love dearly.
Not like this.
"You look great, brother," he said, sincerely.
Ziya smiled. He put Arif down and glanced at the shining wedding ring on his left hand.
"I'm happy, Yaman. I'm happy..."
He patted Yaman's shoulder and left with a spring in his step, obviously to look for the source of his happiness. Yaman ushered Arif into their room.
The boy stood obediently while he buttoned up his shirt, tucked it into his pants and tied the small blue bowtie around his neck. Then Yaman sent him on his way and stood up, to get himself ready.
After he got ready, he walked outside, rolling up his sleeves to his elbows to block out the summer heat. He stood on the porch and looked into the garden.
Two tables were placed next to the pond, shaded by a temporary summer hut. Seher was helping Adalet and Neslihan to set up the food, looking as beautiful as always in a billowing green summer dress.
The twins ran around, holding the blue and gold balloons used for decorations. Yildiz looked like a cotton candy in her rose pink dress and Yaman could already see the patches of dirt on Arif's pants. Yusuf sat on his hunches at the pond, saying something to Çenger who stood next to him.
Then his eyes drifted to Ziya and Çiçek, who were standing among a sea of colourful tulips planted in the garden, holding hands.
The newlyweds.
They got married yesterday evening, with only the family and the witnesses present, in the registrar's office. Neither of them wanted a ceremony, because their previous marriages done with beautiful ceremonies, had ended up in disasters. But Seher was adamant that at least, they should have a small party to celebrate the union, so here they were, all set up under the bright summer sky. They were waiting for Ali, Firat and Seher's friend- Duygu to join them, who unfortunately had to pull night shifts, the day before.
At first, when Ziya had told Yaman about his decision to propose to Çiçek, Yaman had been against the whole business. He couldn't help it. His brother had been stuck in a loveless marriage with a cruel woman who'd almost killed him, for nearly twelve years. Then again, he'd been fooled by their mother. He'd felt his overprotectiveness rearing its head again.
As the years passed, it became apparent to Yaman that he and his brothers had reacted to their mother's abandonment and their father's death in specific ways. He had sworn off anything to do with love and intimacy and had kept women at an arm's length. Yalçin had done the complete opposite- he'd gone around Istanbul, hooking up with any woman he could find in meaningless flings, until he'd met Kevser and married her.
And Ziya- Ziya had fallen in love with the first woman who'd shown him a sliver of kindness. Yaman didn't want him to fall into the same pit, over and over again.
Finally Seher had convinced him to give them a chance. But when Ziya had proposed at first, Çiçek had promptly refused.
Later, they found out that the poor girl had been in an abusive marriage for years. She obviously had feelings for Ziya, but she was still haunted by the demons in her past, afraid to be pulled into another nightmare shrouded in beautiful lies.
Yaman could understand her. After all, hadn't he, himself been afraid to love and trust, because he couldn't bear to be abandoned again?
Now they looked like they could burst with their quiet happiness, and Çiçek sparkled up at Ziya, clad in a sunny blue dress, with white flowers in her dark hair.
Yaman pushed his hands into his pockets and contemplated. He remembered something Seher had said to him years ago- that Kirimli men loved and existed, like they could be ignited and destroyed by the force of their own love. Now he realized how true she'd been.
Didn't his father commit suicide, because he lost the woman he loved? And didn't Yaman almost break down several times, because he'd thought that Seher had left him?
"Yaman!"
A voice called, breaking him out of his thoughts with a snap. He looked up. Seher stood there, holding a bouquet of daisies against her hip, one hand raised to shield her eyes from the blinding sunlight. She smiled.
"What are you doing up there? Come on!"
Then Yaman shook away the cobwebs of a past long gone, and went down to join his family.
************************************
Her whole family was gathered in one place.
Seher watched them from the shade of a tree, arms crossed over her chest.
Yusuf and Arif had tag- teamed and they were playing against Ali and Firat, the soccer ball passing among them in lightning speed. Arif seemed determined to prove his worth, short legs pumping tirelessly, gaze focused on the whizzing ball.
Under the hut, Yildiz was sitting on Duygu's lap and they were sharing a cup of ice cream while Neslihan kept putting sprinkles on top of it. Next to them, Ziya and Çiçek swayed lazily, to the soft music coming from someone's iPhone, their gazes locked on each other.
Yaman and Çenger stood at the pond, staring out into the ripples together.
"Here, Seher," Adalet said, handing her a paper cup full of orange juice.
Seher accepted it gladly, conscious of the merciless summer heat in this May. She watched her family for another minute, and made her way into the woods, glad to be away from the rays of the bright sun for a while.
The sound of the babbling brook was so familiar for her, Seher felt comfort flowing through her whole being. She took off her sandals and climbed down the small path of polished rocks, carefully. Placing the sandals next to her, she lowered herself on the grassy bank and submerged her legs in the water.
Inspite of the heat, the water was blissfully cool. Seher leaned back on her elbows, closing her eyes.
For a moment, everything felt surreal to Seher, as she listened to the calls of birds and the wind rustling around her. She reminisced about the past.
Seven years. She'd been married for seven years. When she was young, her whole world had been limited to her father and her sister. When both of them were painfully ripped away from her, she'd been so lost and alone, she'd thought she would die too.
Then Yusuf became her lifeline. She wanted to be with her nephew always, and she was ready to do anything for that, to keep the promises she'd made to her dead father and the sister.
Didn't she agree to marry Yaman for the same reason?
Now she had everything she'd never known she needed- three beautiful children, a home filled with warmth and a husband who loved her like crazy....
"Where did you run off to?"
Seher smiled to herself. Think of the devil and he shall arrive...
She opened her eyes, squinting against the dapples of sunlight on her face. Yaman had come down the rocky path, silent in his rubber- soled shoes and stood over her now, staring down at her smilingly.
She raised her hand and he grabbed it before lowering himself next to her, crossing his legs under him.
Seher sat up, keeping her hand in Yaman's. She stared at him for a moment. During the initial days they had known each other, after the choking fear she felt of him had faded away, she'd always thought that he seemed larger than life. He'd filled up her vision completely, had intimidated her, but despite that, she'd always felt a strange determination to prove herself to him. Prove to him that there was more to life than power and wealth.
She wasn't sure when those feelings had transitioned into love and warmth towards that rigid man.
Yaman raised his eyebrows.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
Seher shook her head. "Nothing," she paused. "I just wondered, you're happy with what we have, right?"
Yaman laughed once, looking surprised.
"With what we have?" He repeated. "What we have, is more than I've ever hoped for."
Something tickled Seher's feet and she looked down to see a school of large trout fish disappearing into the rocks at the bottom. She pulled her legs back from the water and crossed them under her, mimicking Yaman.
"You know those days when I was mean to you?" He said, suddenly. "Now when I look back on them, I can't believe how I could treat you like that. How could we be at each other's throats all the time?"
Neither could Seher. They still had their quarrels like any other couple, but those usually ended up in prolonged nights of passion. She definitely wasn't complaining.
"We overcame everything," she said, squeezing his hand. "Look how far we have come. Nothing could break us apart."
"And nothing ever will be able to," Yaman said, firmly.
Seher smiled. There was a feeling of tranquility in the air, and a sort of timelessness, where the outside world disappeared and only the two of them and their quiet breaths remained. She took a deep breath, savouring the silence.
After a while, Yaman raised his voice.
"We should go back. Others must be wondering where we have disappeared to..."
He pulled Seher up to her feet and she put on her sandals. They made their way back to the garden, slowly.
Everyone was lounging under the hut. Adalet and Neslihan were passing around glasses of lemonade and iced tea. Yildiz was fast asleep in Duygu's arms and Yusuf was munching on a cookie, a book opened on his lap.
Arif was nowhere to be seen.
Yaman's thoughts must have been on the same page, because he looked around frowning.
"Where has this rascal run off to now?" He muttered.
Seher was wondering if the boy had gone into the house, when suddenly Yaman's hand tightened around hers. She glanced up to see him standing tensed and frozen, looking at something over her head.
Seher followed his gaze to the edge of the large garden, where a high stone wall with an iron gate rose up. Arif stood holding the bars of the gate, talking to someone on the other side.
And Seher lurched forward, her heart racing in her chest, seeing a ghost from the past- the woman who'd visited her countless times in her nightmares.
Çanan stood on the other side of the gate, just like the first time Seher had seen her, before she'd almost destroyed her life.
************************************
Çanan was reliving the past.
She was teleported back to the day she'd left her family, and little Yaman was staring up at her with the same imploring look in his eyes. Çanan had cruelly pushed him away when he'd grabbed her hand, closing her ears off to his pleading cries and Mevlüt's pitiful sobs.
The little boy smiled and suddenly, the spell was broken. She noticed the subtle changes in him from Yaman- his eyes were olive green and he had an impish look in them, which she'd never noticed in her own child's eyes. This was not some apparition from her past- this was obviously Yaman's son.
"My anne always tells me to be kind and respectful to old people," he said. Then he took a large chocolate bar from the pocket of his dusty pants and held it out to her. "Here, ma'am."
"ARIF!"
A voice thundered somewhere in the lush garden. Her heart skipped a beat.
They had named their child after old man Arif?
Çanan looked up.
Yaman and Seher stood in the garden, hand in hand, still together despite everything she'd done to break them apart. As she watched, Seher dropped her husband's hand and came down the pathway with brisk steps, her dress swishing around her slim legs.
Çanan felt herself tensing up. The freezing, haughty look in Seher's eyes was enough to remind her of the several hard slaps she'd received from her.
She reached them and snatched the boy up, her gaze brushing over Çanan briefly. Repulsion was visible in those expressive green eyes. Çanan stared. Seher didn't much resemble the naive girl she had blackmailed, more than half a decade ago. She looked older and more mature, the years adding strength to her slight frame.
Motherhood seemed to suit her well.
The little boy- Arif exclaimed with surprise.
"Anneçim, who is that lady?"
"She's nobody, sweetheart," she said, stiffly. "Nobody"
Çanan tried to ignore the pinch in her heart.
Seher stopped near Yaman and he touched her waist, saying something to her in a low voice. And Çanan got the same feeling she'd had, when she'd seen them together for the very first time.
Not jealousy- not exactly, but a deep dark bitterness churning in her guts. The girl had everything Çanan had ever wanted in life- a rich, devoted husband, a comfortable home and money to spend on everything she desired. But still, she seemed to have no clue on how to spend all that money. Çanan couldn't comprehend how they could leave that extravagant mansion and move into this small farm house.
Seher glanced back at her once and left, clutching at her son tightly. There seemed to be some sort of a celebration in the house today- people were gathered under a hut set up in the garden. She noticed Ziya with his arm around a familiar looking, dark haired woman and Ali, talking with another woman who held a sleeping little girl in her lap. The last time she'd seen Ali, he had been sitting infront of her with a stunned expression, while she'd screamed at him that his birth had ruined her one chance at happiness. He'd left looking shattered.
Now each one of her children were in the same place- they had found their way to each other at last.
"What the hell are you doing here??"
Çanan flinched hard. She hadn't even noticed that Yaman had come close, and now he stood on the other side of the gate, hands clenched at his sides, his face a mask of barely restrained fury.
The years had been kind to him. There were streaks of silver in his dark hair, but otherwise he seemed healthy and carefree, clad in all black, just like Çanan had seen him for the very first time after 25 years.
And the expression in his eyes was the same, if not more loathing.
She clutched at the paper in her hand desperately.
"I-" she started, but Yaman cut in.
"And how did you get released so early?"
"I got a presidential pardon," she mumbled.
She remembered the pain she's endured in the prison. When she was finally released, Çanan was lost and forlorn, without a lira to her name, with nowhere to go. Then she'd made some money by selling the expensive dress she'd been wearing, when she'd been thrown in prison. With that in hand, she'd gone looking for help.
She was shattered when she finally got the news that Kerem had married that old woman, after her husband had been shot to death by a gang, leaving her a rich widow. Then realizing that she'd exhausted all of her options, she'd gone to the mansion.
The place was under construction, and she heard from a worker that it was going to be converted to an orphanage. Then she found her way here- to the place her children had built their new home.
"A presidential pardon?" Yaman repeated. "How?"
"My son," Yaman tensed as Çanan took a step forward, holding out the crumpled paper. "I'm sick"
Yaman's eyes widened a fraction before they cooled over. He closed them briefly.
"Unbelievable," he muttered. "You're going with that lie, again?"
"No, listen to me," she whimpered. "I'm really sick. Look at-"
"SHUT UP!" He growled. "What do you want from us?"
Çanan halted. What did she want from them?
Her eyes went to the garden where everyone sat talking among themselves, unaware of the scene unfolding at the gate. Only Seher stood watching them, hands crossed over her chest, looking worried.
Yaman's eyes were hard as he followed her gaze.
"Don't even think about it," he said warningly. "Don't even think about coming near my family again. You're dead to us. We already buried you and forgot about you. There's no place here for a dead woman."
His every word felt like a crushing blow to her heart.
"I just want to-"
"Get out," His voice was low and threatening. "Get out of our lives!"
Çanan stood there shaking, tears streaming down her face, while Yaman watched her without an ounce of remorse. So the beast in him wasn't completely gone, it was only tamed.
"Don't come here again!" He spat out. "If you do, this time I'll do more than just throw you into the prison. I'll destroy you. Don't forget this!"
With that, he turned his back on her and walked away, signalling to two men who looked like guards. She skidded back, as they came down the path, hands straining to the weapons at their waists.
Çanan left with hurried steps.
Later, she watched them from afar, hiding behind a tree. At first the couple looked pensive, but then Yaman said something which made Seher laugh and gaze at him, her eyes full of love. He leaned down, kissed her forehead and looped an arm around her slender waist. Then they walked towards their family, who welcomed them with open arms and loving smiles. The whole setup looked like a picture taken out of a book- cosy and complete and perfect to the very last atom.
Çanan slid down to the ground, looking at the paper in her hand.
The thing was, this time, she hadn't lied to Yaman. She really was sick.
Poisoned from within, the doctors at the prison had said. Some drug she'd used, poisoned her body, causing a tumor to grow inside of her colon. It had, unfortunately, reached stage four. Incurable.
She never imagined that the drugs she'd used to fake her illness, would actually give her cancer.
When the sky started being painted by streaks of orange, Çanan left the place. She wandered around aimlessly for a while, before she found herself at her old house.
In the fading light, it looked like a ghost house. She opened the creaky gate, made her way through the garden full of weed and reached the house.
Instantly, the memories of long ago washed over Çanan. She hadn't been happy here, not exactly, but now she realized that the only time she'd been truly loved by a man, was in between these walls. Maybe Mevlüt Kirimli had been poor and sick, but his love for her had been of the purest kind.
So pure that he'd taken his life, unable to bear her absence.
Çanan entered the dusty old room and looked up. She could almost imagine Mevlüt hanging from this ceiling, lifeless, face still stained with the tears she'd made him shed.
Something in her just shattered then.
Her days were numbered and she had nothing to live for, anyway. There was only one thing she could do.
A discarded, sturdy looking wire beckoned to her from the ground. When she snatched it up and started tying it into the shape of a noose, a sudden thought crossed her mind strangely, inexplicably, almost as if some higher power were at work here.
"What goes around comes around..."
Çanan closed her eyes, savouring her last breaths.
The cycle had come to a full end.
THE END.
❤️
And with that happy note, this story ends.😌
I started this as a spinoff for Çanan's plot, so I thought this should end with her too.The first chapter was published on February 26th and thanks to my raging insomnia, I could finish this in two months🤗🤗.
Maybe Emanet wouldn't have a happy ending, who knows? So that's why I'm finishing this with a happy ending, even though I think they're cliche😁
Phew, that satisfaction you feel when you've completed a story...💃💃
Thanks for the votes and all the lovely comments 😍 They super motivated me to continue with this. Thank you again🙏🙏
I do have an old draft of another rewritten plot- the file plot. I wrote it a long time ago, but I didn't have the guts to publish it😅😅You guys want me to publish it? Let me know😋😋
In the meantime, do check my other work😁
If you liked the chapter give a vote and drop a comment 😘
Peace out✌️
-nocturnal4ever