(Listening : Rihanna ft. Eminem - Love The Way You Lie Part 2)
Duru Ulusoy
I tried to turn to the other side to escape the sunlight hitting my face, but the ache in my neck flared up, followed by a pounding pain in my head. I groaned and buried my face into the pillow.
'Mmm. This pillow smells really nice.'
Wait.
Since when did pillows breathe?
I reached out to feel it properly, my brows knitting together.
Why was my pillow so warm… and bare?
"If I were you, I'd be careful where I put my hand, Sunshine."
Not wanting my already splitting headache to get worse, I slowly opened my eyes and pulled back to see who was next to me.
I tried to move away completely, but the arms wrapped around my waist didn't allow it.
I poked his chest irritably.
"Why am I in your house, Kerem? And more importantly—why are we sleeping together?"
He opened his eyes and studied me silently for a moment. I waited tensely for his answer.
"Don't you remember?"
At first, I thought he was making one of his usual suggestive jokes. But the seriousness in his expression told me something was wrong.
I shifted uneasily.
"Remember what?"
His gaze dropped. I followed it and noticed the bandages on my arms.
Confusion hit me full force.
And then—images flooded my mind.
That psychotic man. The disgusting pleasure in his eyes when he hurt me. The things he said. The way he touched me—
My entire body trembled as the memories hit. I felt the body beside me tense as well.
His arms tightened around me, and without thinking, I hugged him back.
I hated showing weakness. But right now, I needed to feel someone there.
I rested my head between his shoulder and neck. He started stroking my hair.
"I'm sorry, Sunshine," he said quietly. "This is all my fault. I should never have left you alone. No matter what."
I sighed and pulled back slightly.
"Don't blame yourself that much. I was the one who convinced you the plan would work. I should've known something that cliché wouldn't work on people like them."
When I remembered our last conversation before our big fight in the car, my expression darkened.
**Two weeks earlier – Thursday, 1:00 PM
(One hour before the fight in the car)**
When Feyza's phone rang, the happy look on her face made it obvious it was Atlas. I told her I needed the restroom and stepped away.
After the confession she'd made about her family, giving her space to talk to her boyfriend felt like the right thing to do. No matter how much we tried to help, Atlas was better at pulling her away from those problems than we ever could.
I smiled to myself while washing my hands.
I'd already decided who I was going to ask for help with my New Year's plan.
I was absolutely certain Mete would jump at the chance the moment he heard about it. The first thing I'd do when I got home was call him.
I threw the paper towel into the trash and stepped out—only to be grabbed by the arm and pulled aside before I could react.
I tried to scream, struggling against the hand covering my mouth.
"Relax. It's me."
When he let go, I turned around, adrenaline still pumping.
"Right. Of course panicking was stupid. I don't understand other people at all. When they want to talk to someone in private, why do they choose to text and meet up? Let me think… Oh, I got it! BECAUSE NORMAL PEOPLE DON'T KIDNAP EACH OTHER JUST TO TALK, HOTSHOT!"
He rolled his eyes and leaned back against the lockers.
"Are you done protesting?"
I smoothed my hair and leaned against the locker across from him.
"I think so. Yeah. What did you want?"
Without answering, he handed me a brown envelope I hadn't noticed before.
Suspiciously, I opened it. A photo fell out.
I looked at him, then back at the photo.
"What is this? A joke? Because if it is, it's not funny."
"Turn it over."
I did.
On the back, written in neat handwriting, was a short note.
'Your past or your future... It's your choice.'
"Okay… Clearly this is a threat. But I don't really get what they mean by past and future."
"They're saying if I meet the man I'm looking for, they'll hurt you."
I stared at him blankly.
"What does that meeting have to do with me? I don't even know the guy."
"They're threatening me through you," he said quietly. "Because they think you're my girlfriend, Duru."
"But I'm not."
He narrowed his eyes and pointed at the photo.
"I know that. But that photo gives them a very good reason to believe otherwise."
That was when it clicked.
"Kerem… This is creepy, but unless your own friends are threatening you, that means someone has been following us closely enough to take this picture."
"Yes. I figured that out the moment I got the envelope. And if they're always one step ahead, there's no telling what else they can do."
"So what now?"
He studied the photo and my face for several minutes, clearly thinking.
Finally, he sighed and rubbed his face with both hands.
That was the first time I realized how exhausted he looked.
He was still handsome, but his eyes were red. The light in them—the one that never faded, even when he was angry—was gone. Dark circles were forming under his eyes.
Seeing him like that erased every thought I'd been obsessing over for days.
Compared to what he was dealing with, my romantic confusion felt embarrassingly trivial.
This wasn't the time to complicate things with my feelings. We needed a solution.
"Honestly, I don't know," he said. "I'm not sure if they're just trying to scare me or if they'd actually hurt you. But either way, you got dragged into this because of me. I won't risk your life over my mistake. Until I find another way to meet that man without them noticing, it's best if I act like I've given up."
Great.
The guilt I already felt over snapping at him after the kiss multiplied tenfold.
He was willing to risk his life for answers. And now, because of my curiosity and selfish feelings, he was giving everything up?
There was no way I could allow that.
Maybe what I was about to say would land me in even deeper trouble—but at least I'd know I tried to fix my mistake.
I took a breath before my courage failed.
"You're going to meet that man, Kerem."
"Duru—"
"Listen before you object. I have a plan."
The next ten minutes were spent explaining everything in detail.
When I finished, he shook his head and rubbed his eyes again.
"I don't know, Duru. This plan relies on too many assumptions. First, we can't be sure they saw us fight and break up. Second, even if they believe it, there's no guarantee they'll stop targeting you."
"Come on, Kerem! We can't give up without trying. They followed us, waited for the right moment, photographed us kissing, and threatened you. If that's the case, they won't leave you alone until they're sure you won't meet that man."
"I still can't risk trusting that they'd leave you alone just because they think we broke up."
I grinned as an idea struck me.
"Then we don't have to take that risk. You're not short on money. Hire someone to protect me until your meeting. Problem solved."
He fell silent, weighing my words.
I waited.
"Alright," he said finally. "It's worth trying. But promise me—if you feel unsafe or want to back out, you'll call me immediately."
I smiled.
"I promise. Now that the issue's solved, I should probably go back before Sapphire thinks I fainted in the bathroom."
I was about to leave when he grabbed my arm.
"Duru… It was my fault."
I frowned, tilting my head.
"What was your fault?"
"That night. The kiss."
I looked away, surprised.
"Oh."
"I know you blamed yourself. Don't. You were right—I did use you. I was so focused on my own problems that I ignored how this would affect you. I said things, did things that made you think things that weren't real."
He took a breath.
"When this is over, it's best if we stop seeing each other. I want you to live your life as if we never met."
Wow.
Who would've thought the kindest conversation Kerem would ever have with me would be a breakup speech?
And the worst part was—it hurt more than all his yelling and teasing ever had.
It hurt bad.
And slowly, that pain turned into something else.
Hatred.
Hating someone for being honest felt ridiculous. But I hated him anyway.
Maybe because he could so casually say we should act like strangers. Maybe because I finally accepted he'd never feel the same way.
Either way, the result was the same.
I refused to look weak.
At least not in front of him.
Making sure nothing showed on my face, I met his eyes with a neutral expression.
"You're right. That would be best for both of us."
He looked surprised by how easily I agreed. The corner of my lips twitched—not in a happy smile.
"Duru—"
"Anyway," I cut in. "Make sure our fight is convincing enough, Hotshot. Because I won't be holding back."
He nodded silently.
I pulled my arm free and opened the door. Just before leaving, I turned back and smiled again.
"Despite everything, it was a nice adventure for me. Goodbye, Kerem Dinçer."
I didn't wait for his answer.
I returned to my friend, hiding the storm inside me behind a sweet smile.
All I had to do was endure a few more hours, perform a believable breakup scene with that Hotshot, and leave him—and every memory of him—behind.
After that, I'd go home, fall apart where no one could see me, and wait for the pain to fade with time.
But it hadn't faded.
Not even a bit.