The wedding is a rather simple affair, held in Ferit's backyard and attended by family and a handful of our closest friends. Still, Ferit hires a wedding planner who peppers me with at least twenty questions a day for the entire week leading up to the event. I try to be patient with the poor woman who is doing a marvelous job on such an intense time crunch, but I can't imagine myself caring about any of these decisions even under normal circumstances. So, I start selecting the second choice she provides me every time, wondering if she'll catch on eventually.
Ferit and I decide to do a mix of a more streamlined Hindu wedding with a civil ceremony. The mehndi ceremony will be held Saturday night, followed by the two wedding ceremonies and reception on Sunday. I'm dreading the ceremony, but can't bear to disappoint my family who are already confused and angry that I am marrying this fast.
We've included a civil ceremony in the Turkish style to satisfy Ferit's family, but he doesn't seem overly concerned about their reactions. His focus is Bulut.
What I am looking forward to is the party. Traditionally, mehndi ceremonies are only attended by women, but I allow Ozan an invite. We've mixed the Sangeet and the mehndi ceremony together so while I am getting my hands and feet adorned, my lovely friends do their best to perform to my favorite Bollywood songs. Unfortunately for them, I am the choreographer in the group.
Everything inside of me itches to destroy the carefully applied mehndi all over my arms and legs and dance alongside my friends. Being a bride is not nearly as much fun as being a guest.
I am already picturing how rigid and uncomfortable sleeping is going to be as I attempt to protect the intricate designs to allow the mehndi to darken as much as possible. Laila laughs at me when she sees my forlorn expression, but sticks her tongue out in jest, showing me no sympathy. I narrow my eyes at her, logging this insult to repay in the future. Her turn is not too far away.
I look around the room in my boredom. I notice Deniz sitting alone, watching the enjoyment from a distance. The easy relationship between us has been strained after the incident with Bulut. While she admits that Hakan is poisonous, Deniz continues to defend her sister. I can understand the urge, but her loyalty is in defiance of fact. And I worry it will put Bulut at further risk.
Ozan notices her sitting apart from the crowd and I watch as he walks over to join her. At first, she seems sullen, unwilling to entertain his company. But, when I look back a few minutes later, I can see he has successfully wormed a tiny smile out of her. I smile a little as well, glad to see her defenses falling a little. Whatever our differences, I still have a soft spot for her.
I need to find a moment to talk to her more directly about our plans to contest custody to confirm that she is on our side. Ferit seems to be discounting her role, but I'm certain her testimony will be vital at the upcoming hearing.
My cousin plops herself next to me, distracting me from my thoughts. "You look like you're having fun." She smirks, holding her hands away from her body to prevent smearing her mehndi.
I roll my eyes at her. "It's a dream."
The next morning, I am awoken by my aunt at an ungodly hour. As predicted, I barely slept in an attempt to maintain my starfish, mehndi-friendly position. I am beyond ready for this wedding to be over.
I take a shower, trying to scrub all the dried mehndi off of my body to reveal the dark red ink underneath. It does look beautiful, I have to admit, though that is of little solace.
Ironically, as soon as I get dressed, it is time for the haldi ceremony, where I will get filthy once again. Ferit and I sit down on chairs outside as all the women in our families line up for their chance to smear turmeric paste all over us. Watching Ferit try to take the assault with minimal irritation is almost worth the entire marriage. Deniz deliberately rubs the paste all over his face, causing him to groan in frustration. I laugh, filled with joy at having my family and Ferit near me. His eyes meet mine at the sound of my laughter, drawing me in, tempting me to be more and more open with my affection. I never want him to look away.
The wedding planner has arranged for brunch to be served after the haldi ceremony, allowing the guests to eat while Ferit and I get ready for the Hindu ceremony. We walk into the house together in our previously white kurthas and are suddenly alone for the first time since this began.
I relish the silence, grateful that Ferit is not one to start chatter for no reason. Our hands brush together as we walk up the stairs and I am suddenly so curious to know what it would feel like to hold his hand. Ever since our dinner, I've been dreaming in vivid colors of a married life with Ferit, jolting awake every morning with my heart racing, disappointment coursing through me as I realize it wasn't real. That none of this is real.
Sometimes, when he smiles at me with his dimples and eye crinkles, I am really tempted to take my friends' advice and blurt out all my tangled feelings. Just to see what would happen. It really wasn't my style to beat around the bush. But, sense always wins out.
We reach the top of the stairs and Ferit heads away from me, to his bedroom. "I'll see you out there." He says in parting, a hint of a smile on his face. I wish I knew what he was thinking about all of this.
Yasmin and Laila arrive in the guest bedroom after a few minutes to help me put on my mother's wedding sari. I finger the silk, feeling a familiar twinge of grief. The sari is cream with an orange, patterned border. It's simple, but elegant. Exactly my mother's style.
The three of us stare at the pile of fabric, trying to figure out how to turn it into a sari. When neither one of us can figure out how to drape it properly, we call my aunt in for help. She, of course, makes it look easy.
Yasmin applies some dramatic eye makeup and a bold lip color. Next, it's time for jewelry: heavy and gold. By the end, I feel like I'm buried under too many layers of clothing, makeup, and jewels, but I look the part of a bride.
We make our way down to the yard. While I was getting ready, our miracle working wedding planner transformed the space, adding a platform, seating, and floral decorations. All of my random choices seem to have pulled together nicely, against all odds.
Ferit is at the platform waiting for me. We chose to skip the baraat, which was a real disappointment to me. I would have paid money to watch Ferit dance into any venue. I leave Yasmin and Laila at their table and walk over to the platform to join Ferit. The priest is busy setting up, paying us no mind. I'm already dreading how long this whole process is going to take.
I gather my skirt carefully, doing my best not to disgrace myself as I climb onto the stage. I settle down on the settee across from Ferit, feeling relieved that I didn't trip even once. Once I'm comfortable, I look up and find Ferit looking at me so intensely my heart aches.
"You look beautiful." He breathes, looking slightly overwhelmed. I can feel his gaze on me like a caress making me uncomfortably hot. He looks utterly gorgeous himself in his salwaar and I cannot help but stare. We are lost in each other for long minutes, the tension between us palpable. I find myself more eager than ever to have this done with. The line between reality and fantasy is already blurring.
The ceremony drags and drags as the priest leads us through the motions. I try my best to look anywhere but Ferit while still playing the role of blushing bride. It's a fine line.
Finally, it's over and we head back into the house for our second costume change of the day. This time, I pull on my white dress. Laila buttons up the back while Yasmin alters my makeup to look a little softer, more natural. The whole operation is surprisingly efficient, and we are back outside in under thirty minutes.
I walk up to the wedding table that has been set on the platform as I wait for Ferit. Laila joins me as my witness. Ferit's witness is already seated and I recognize him as Jeremy, the college roommate. He smiles at me warmly and I return the smile. Ferit walks out a few moments later, decked in a sleek black tux that hugs his frame. He walks towards the table quickly, looking a little regretful that he took so long to change.
He looks breathtaking.
I shake my head a little, trying to get my hormones under control. But, I can't look away.
He finally locks eyes with me as he approaches the table and his eyes soften at the sight of me. My heart nearly jumps out of my chest under his tender gaze. Nothing about this feels fake. The thought terrifies me.
Luckily, the civil ceremony takes all of fifteen minutes and its almost time to move on to the fun part. The crowd beings to demand a kiss and Ferit looks at me, revealing some hesitation in the face of our farce for the first time.
Not allowing myself to think about any of it, I reach up to pull him to me, placing a soft but quick kiss on his lips. His eyes are still closed when I pull away to look at the crowd. They seem disappointed at the chaste kiss, but it's all they are getting. Just that brief brush of my lips against his has me longing for more.
The last remaining hurdle is the first dance. Ferit gathers me in his arms and we walk onto the dance floor. I asked the wedding planner to select the song, much to her surprise, so we are both a little unprepared when Make You Feel My Love starts playing. I smile, the song reminding me of my father's Adele phase.
I decide to stop fighting everything I'm feeling and enjoy the moment. It would be impossible to hold myself back at this point anyway. My heart is already involved, despite my best efforts. I can have this moment and then retreat back into my shell, I convince myself.
We sway, eyes fixed on each other. I can hear the crowd cheering us on, but I'm too wrapped up in Ferit to register any embarrassment. He holds me just like he did that first night, strong and gentle. I can't read the mix of emotions in his eyes, but he seems as confused as I am. He tilts his head slightly as he looks at me as if he's doing his best to try to understand what I'm thinking. I lean forward to place my head against his chest to escape his intense eyes.
Laila drags her fiancé onto the dance floor, the first to break our solo dance. I'm grateful for her intervention. Soon nearly the entire crowd has joined us and the song shifts to something more upbeat. I take the moment to find myself a drink, needing a break.
I enjoy myself with my friends and family, pretending as if I am at any other party. Every so often I feel Ferit's touch around my waist or a kiss on my cheek as he attempts to keep up the ruse. I throw him smiles across the room every time we lock eyes, playing my part.
My sweet baby Bulut is having the time of his life, running around between all of his favorite people and demanding as many sweets as he can get away with. He leaps into my arms and giggles uncontrollably as I twirl him around in time to the music. Ferit joins us, taking me into his arms as the three of us sway together. I lean against him, taking advantage of his strength, a little tired of being on my feet.
I spot Deniz and Ozan dancing together on the other side of the tent and look up to see if Ferit has noticed. He meets my eyes and I tilt my head towards them, urging him to look their way. He smiles slightly at the sight as I waggle my eyebrows at him.
Bulut eventually gets bored in my arms and demands to be let down so he can run off to the next friend. I let him go, wondering when he is going to crash. It won't be pretty when he does.
I allow myself another few moments of leaning against Ferit before I go in search of my sister. We discretely avoid each other for the rest of the night.
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I collapse on the couch, exhausted after all the guests finally trickle out. I should go upstairs to change, but that would require too much effort. Ferit appears in the living room with another bottle of champagne and two glasses. He's removed his coat and unbuttoned his shirt one button too many, revealing his bronzed chest. I smile at him, taking in his sexy, disheveled state as he pops the cork.
"Thank you." I say, accepting my glass. He pours his own and moves to sit next to me. He slides down the couch so that our heads are at the same height. I smile slightly at his poor posture. He's more relaxed than I've ever seen him.
He moves to make a toast, catching me in the middle of taking a sip. I freeze, the glass at my lips. I'm terrible at remembering to wait until after toasts.
I giggle guiltily, but tip the glass upright, waiting to see what he would say. "To you. Thank you for doing this." He says simply as we touch glasses. I'm touched at the acknowledgement, my gratitude for his words shining in my eyes.
We descend into a comfortable silence sitting next to each other, sipping our drinks while I consider the weight of what I have just done. All my crying family members think they have finally married me off. Bulut thinks he's getting a new permanent set of parents. My home has temporarily shifted to Ferit's mansion. I hope I haven't signed my life away for nothing.
"Can I keep my apartment?" I ask, realizing that was an important element we hadn't discussed.
He's a little startled by the random question, but deliberates on the matter. The silence gives me time to remember that I can do what I want. "Actually, of course I'm keeping it."
He turns to me with a raised eyebrow as I answer my own question. I stare him down, daring him to argue with me. But he just nods in agreement. "We can argue that it's a good real estate investment or something."
Now that we have turned our faces to look at each other, the space between us has almost completely evaporated. My eyes flit to his lips, the memory of kissing him today still very much fresh in my mind. He leans a little closer, seemingly having the same line of thought.
"Bulut was so happy today." I say, grasping for a subject that will cut the tension between us. Ferit nods with a smile, but only seems to inch closer. My heart is hammering in anticipation. My eyes dart back and forth between his eyes and his enticing lips. I pull away from his gaze before I am compelled to do something stupid like kiss him.
If I wasn't so fatigued, I might have fled the uncomfortable situation as is usually my first recourse. But despite the awkwardness, I don't really want to leave him. I find his body next to me calming even though he is the source of my distress.
For whatever reason, he doesn't leave either and we sit there in silence together. He leans back against the couch and sips his drink. Eventually a yawn escapes me that I cannot control, accompanied by a full body stretch that accidently hits him in the face. This breaks the tension as I laugh and he chuckles along. "Sorry." I say, unable to be truly regretful since it has earned me a smile.
"We should go to bed." He says softly, downing the rest of his champagne.
I sigh. "I would if I had the energy to move or the ability to remove this dress." I wince at how scandalous that sounded.
He turns to me, blushing slightly. "Do you need help unbuttoning it?"
I nod, but settle further into the couch pillow instead of standing up. "In a minute." I say while yawning again.
I close my eyes for just a moment, telling myself I will go upstairs after a quick rest. Ferit chuckles lightly and I can feel his hand brush my hair out of my face, almost as if he can't stop himself.
More mixed signals. I cannot understand why he is being so tender, why he looks at me with such awe in his eyes when what he says out loud is that he just wants to be friends, that his feelings are behind him. In a different situation, I might have sat up and demanded an explanation, tired of feeling so weak and confused all the time.
But, the memory of how cold he had been at my first mistake makes me wary. I may have kissed him impulsively once, but that reality is gone. The stakes are too high now, and I refuse to get my heart broken again while trapped in this contract with him.
So instead, I live inside these stolen moments, my head against his chest as I close my eyes, his heartbeat lulling me to sleep.