Ozan sat with his heads in his hands for what felt like an eternity. Her words had cut deep, like the sharpest knife, straight through his chest.
There was a reason he'd never expressed his feeling for her. Somewhere, in the far recesses of his brain, he had always feared that she would reject him, reject the very notion of them. And damn, he had been so right.
She'd said sorry, but she was sorry for hurting his feelings, for letting it get this far, for giving him hope, because that is who she was. But not sorry for thinking those thoughts - he was certain of that. So he knew why she was sorry, and he said so in his response. He hurt too much to say anything else. He knew she wanted more, but he couldn't give her that. Not yet...
He rubbed his hands through his hair in frustration...and resolution. He had to do whatever it took to get her out of his system once and for all. Loving her was a fool's errand and he was done playing the fool.
Esra stared down at the "I know", on her phone, for the entire ride to the new apartment. In a way, she got it. This was Ozan, he knew her - this much she had learnt from her time with him. He understood her like no one else in her life. And in the most clinical sense, the most logical sense, in a distinctly Ozan sense, it was entirely appropriate. He knew that she was sorry. But in that moment she had wanted more, and she hated herself for this weakness.
A week passed with neither of them reaching out to the other - a little bit of pride, and a whole lot of self-preservation at play.
Esra arrived early to work like she usually did these days. Her boss Furkan somehow always seemed to be there before her. He motioned for her to come into his office as she passed him on the way to the cubicle.
"Good morning Esra. I'm going to get right to the point. I have been informed that you were, in fact, the brain behind the project plan that Cinar took credit for. I'm sorry that happened, and Cinar has been reprimanded for it. Starting today you will be the lead on the project, and report directly to me."
"I..How...," Esra stammered, slack-jawed.
"The 'how' doesn't matter. Are you up for the challenge?"
Esra all but squealed in delight, "More than up for it! I promise you won't regret this!"
"I'm counting in it," Furkan said with a smile, "now, off you go."
Esra practically skipped to her desk. This was it, her chance to show them her mettle, her smarts, her talent. And there was one person who she wanted to share the news with the most. She was also certain that the same person was somehow instrumental in Furkan finding out.
She pulled out her phone and texted Ozan.
Esra : You told them about Cinar, right?
Ozan : maybe...
Esra : How? Why?
Ozan : Furkan is a friend of a friend, we were introduced over the weekend at the club. I might have let a few things slip.
Ozan : What happened to you was not fair.
Esra : So you were looking out for me?
She waited a brief second as she imagined him trying to find the right thing to say, while also being momentarily distracted by the fact that he went to a club - that wasn't like him.
Then she typed some more...
Esra : Were you? Looking out for me? Like a friend?
Ozan huffed out a laugh. He'd walked into that one.
Ozan : :) Take care Esra
Esra stared at her phone annoyed, so he was really committing to this "can't be friends" nonsense. It felt like a challenge and Esra was never one to back down from one.
She squared her shoulders and flipped her hair defiantly, I'm not done yet Ozan Korfali. They would be friends again or her name was not Esra Erten.
That friday she told her colleagues that she wanted to celebrate being project lead, and drinks were on her. She casually suggested the pub near Ozan's apartment, and no one protested.
At the pub her eyes wandered the length and breadth of the space. She couldn't see some of the booths, but, like, what were the odds that Ozan was sitting in a cozy booth, right?
She sighed, finally admitting to herself that she had just blown her money on drinks for friends in a futile effort to run into Ozan. What even was she doing?
She would use the restroom and then herd the gang out, she was done for the night.
She walked past a booth and heard a soft laugh, a familiar laugh, one that made her heart flip. She froze for a second and then kept walking, forcing herself to not turn around until she could peek from around the corner.
It was Ozan. Her heart did another flip, but then dropped to her stomach as her eyes shifted to his companion.
She knew her! What was her name? Ceylan, Ceyda, Şema? The girl from the mohalle! The one who Zumrut Teyze had been eyeing for Ozan. What the heck was she doing in Istanbul, but more importantly what was she doing with Ozan with her hand on his arm, and whispering in his ear. Ozan smiled and nodded as he listened to what she was saying.
It felt like a punch to her gut. She thought he would be mourning her loss, drowning his sorrow in drinks with Musa, but he really had decided to move on with his life. Tears prickled at the back of her eyes, and she clenched her fist and punched the wall, angry with herself. Then let out a yelp and doubled over at the pain in her wrist. Dammit Esra, you are really screwing this up, she yelled silently at herself.
Ozan looked up just then, and their eyes met. His widened in surprise and he half rose from his seat, as if to walk towards her.
She waved cheerfully at him and then hurried back to her group, practically running without turning around. She didn't have it inside her to deal with him or her confusing emotions, not now.
He didn't follow her - and a part of her was relieved, while the other part was disappointed. Old Ozan was have wondered if maybe she had drunk too much, or if someone was going to see her home. The ache in her chest settled deep inside her, as if it had no plans of moving.
Ozan watched as she existed the pub, laughing and joking with her friends. It hurt that she hadn't stopped to talk, hurt more that she had clearly been far less affected by what had happened between then. The sound of her laughter faded just as the pain in his head intensified.
He turned to his companion and offered an apologetic smile, "I'm so sorry but I have a devil of a migraine, and I really need to go home."
The weekend passed uneventfully. Esra was at work Monday afternoon when she got a text from Musa.
Musa : Hey Esra. Is Ozan doing ok? He's not picking up his phone and he's not here at work. We have an important client meeting and it's very unlike him to miss it. I was going to head to his apartment. But you saw him in the morning, so I thought I would check with you first and see if he said anything.
A whole of host of emotions raced through Esra. She started to panic, Ozan was not ok? What could have happened to him? A part of her was also disappointed that he hadn't even told Musa that she no longer lived at the apartment. Was she really such an afterthought to him now?
She decided that now was not the time to catch Musa up on the the latest developments, she'd leave that to Ozan.
Esra : I don't know why he's not answering but i was just going to head out for lunch, let me check in on him and get back to you.
Musa : Tamam. Thanks! That would be very helpful. I want to be here when the clients come.
Esra rushed over to Ozan's place and rang the bell, but no one answered.
She dug into her purse - Yes, she still had the key. No, he hadn't asked for it back, and no she hadn't made the effort to come back and give it to him either. Somehow that seemed very final and she was not emotionally ready.
She fumbled with the key, opening the door at last, her heart beating hard in her chest, not sure what to expect.
"Ozan?" she called rushing into the house. She thought she heard a sound from his room and ran the few steps to his door, knocking briefly before opening it.
"Ozan?"
She let out a gasp when she saw him lying on his bed - pale and sickly, his face ashen, his mouth dry, his eyes closed. His phone lying on his nightstand, not plugged in, and probably out of charge.
"Ozan!" she rushed to his side, fear lurching in her stomach. She put her palm to his forehead and let out another small gasp - he was burning up.
She ran her hands across his cheeks, trying to wake him up so she could find out what happened, swiping away at the tears that rolled uninvited down her cheeks and onto his face.
He blinked slowly when the warm droplet hit his skin. He had been dreaming of Esra all night, and now he seemed to have conjured her up in the flesh just from sheer desperation.
"Esraa'm?" he murmured, still wondering if she was a figment of his imagination as his eyes slowly swept her face.
She grabbed his hands linking her fingers through his, and gave him a watery smile of relief, "Ben buradayım"
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Notes (2022-06-02)
I couldn't keep them apart too long :)
I'm a sucker for one taking care of the other in their hour of need, so I wanted to work that in at this point in time, to give Esra a little time for re-evaluate her feeling :)
I can just see Esra taking it as a challenge to win back his friendship though. lol