While Burcu was still standing there, stunned, with her hand on her face, I turned my back on them and left the kitchen. I marched toward the front door with angry steps, fishing my phone out of my bag. Neither Feyza nor Aylin were answering my calls. I couldn't stay inside any longer.I opened the door in front of me and slammed it shut behind me as I stepped outside.
The cold air hitting my face helped, at least a little. But my hands and feet were still shaking with anger. I covered my face with my hands and took a deep breath.
"You okay?" The sudden voice made me jump.
Leaning against the wall in the back, smoking a cigarette and somehow looking even more intimidating than usual, Rüzgar was the last person I expected to see right then.
"Not really."
When he didn't say anything else, I let out a tired sigh and held out my hand. "Got another cigarette?"
He held the pack out to me. I took one, handed the pack back, lit my cigarette with the lighter he offered, and took a deep drag.
Everything felt strangely unreal.
As we smoked in silence, I decided not to ruin the girls' fun and to go home alone. Especially these days, when Aylin desperately needed a distraction, dragging them out with me would have been unfair.
Careful not to meet his eyes, I asked politely: "Could you call a taxi for me?"
He flicked his cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his shoe. In a tone that sent a chill down my spine, he said, "It's late. I'll drive you," and started walking, leaving me torn between objecting and thanking him.
Did he actually enjoy looking like a cold-blooded killer or something?
Hoping he wouldn't murder me on the way and dump my body in some deserted place, I tossed my own cigarette, crushed it out, and followed him.
When I got into his car—the literal dictionary definition of luxury—the comfort briefly made me forget that the person next to me was Rüzgar. Exactly what a potential killer would need to distract his victim!
He drove faster than Feyza, but somehow it didn't make me nervous at all. Even to my inexperienced eye, it was obvious he was skilled behind the wheel.
Aside from me giving him directions, we didn't exchange a single word on the way, and it still took less than half an hour to reach my place.
I kept my gratitude for arriving home alive to myself and simply thanked him. He answered with a silent nod. I got out of the car and went into the building; only then did he speed off.
When I finally stepped into my apartment, a wave of relief washed over me. First thing I did was send the girls a quick apology and a flimsy excuse so they wouldn't worry.
Right after that, I headed for the bathroom. Standing under hot water was always my fastest way to relax.
After my shower, I moved on to method number two: I put on my favorite soft, oversized pajamas and sprawled on the couch with a tray full of snacks.
I knew myself too well. If I didn't keep my mind busy, I'd just keep replaying everything and drive myself crazy. So I picked something fun from my watchlist and poured all my remaining energy into focusing on the screen.
Whether it actually worked… is debatable.