A one-shot exploring what unfolded between Cihan and Sevilay Şansalan in the hotel room. Struggling to cope with the pain of betrayal, they find themselves grappling with shattered trust and the devastating impact of new secrets that came to the l...
This chapter highlights the tension, anger, and misunderstanding between the characters. However, I believe these feelings will gradually ease as they spend more time together and begin to understand each other better.
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The farmhouse was suffocatingly silent after Cihan's declaration, the air thick with tension, as if the very walls themselves held their breath. The sun, now low in the sky, cast long, golden beams through the dusty windows, illuminating the worn wooden floorboards that creaked under every shift of movement. The scent of aged wood and earth clung to the air, mingling with the faint mustiness of the old house.
A breeze stirred the curtains, but it did little to cool the oppressive atmosphere that seemed to hang in the very air, heavier than any storm.
Sevilay stood in the center of the room, her body rigid, arms crossed tightly over her chest. She glared at him, but it was as if she were looking at a stranger, someone she no longer knew or understood. Her heart hammered in her chest, each beat like a drum of defiance, while the shock and anger twisted inside her.
The silence stretched between them like a chasm, broken only by the occasional creak of the floor or the far-off whisper of the wind. She could feel the weight of every word she had yet to say, the weight of everything unsaid, suffocating her.
Anger, disbelief, and a deep sense of betrayal warred within her, but it was the silence that gripped her most—this hollow, empty silence that seemed to fill the farmhouse, trapping her as much as it trapped her thoughts.
"And what's that supposed to mean? That we're staying here until the night?" hissed sharply After a while, slicing through the silence like a blade. "Are you insane?"
Cihan leaned against the old wooden table, the creak of the wood the only sound besides the low hum of their breathing. His posture was deceptively relaxed, arms crossed over his broad chest, but his gaze was anything but calm. It was steady, sharp, and locked on her as if she were a puzzle he was determined to solve.
"Call it whatever you want, Sevilay.We're not leaving until we've talked this through."
"There's nothing to talk about!" snapped her anger bubbling over. "You just humiliated me in front of everyone in that café, dragged me here like I'm some kind of criminal, and now you think you can hold me hostage for the night?"
"You think this is just about the café?" voice dropped an octave, though his words carried a weight that made her pulse quicken. "This is about everything. The secrets. The lies. You meeting him behind my back. I'm done tiptoeing around this marriage, Sevilay. Either we fix it, or we face the truth about where this is heading."
Her lips trembled at the thought of ending this marriage, a possibility she never wanted to face. The weight of it pressed down on her, suffocating any hope she had left for resolution. But the anger and pride twisting inside her, the overwhelming sense of indignation and helplessness, made the words spill out before she could stop them.
"You're the one who's been impossible to deal with!" shouted back, "You never listen to me, Cihan! Never! You just... you just make all the decisions on your own, and I'm supposed to follow along like some puppet!" chest heaved with each breath, the sting of her own words mixing with the deep ache of feeling unheard and unseen.
Deep down, though, there was a quiet, gnawing fear—the fear that if she truly let go, this marriage would slip away completely. But did she even know if she wanted to save it anymore? After what happened today.The confusion churned inside her, and for a fleeting moment, she wished she could just run away from it all.
Cihan's jaw tightened, the muscle ticked as he pushed off the table with deliberate force, his body taut with barely contained frustration. He stepped closer, closing the space between them, his presence imposing yet unflinching. His voice was low but simmering with a fire that had been building for far too long.
"Then tell me now," each word cutting through the charged air between them. "Tell me why you keep running from me."What are you angry at when you know that Malak and I are done?"His voice cracked slightly on the name, but he pressed on, refusing to let the vulnerability show.
She knows it's over—why does she still hold onto it like a weapon?
"And why," continued sharpening with the edge of his insecurities, "why do you meet him behind my back?"The accusation lingered in the air, as heavy as the unspoken fears that weighed on him. His fists curled at his sides, not out of anger but out of the desperate need to keep control.
What am I not enough of? Why does she need someone else when I'm here, fighting for us?
"Tell me why I should trust you after everything!" demanded words harsher than he intended, driven by the raw ache of doubt gnawing at him. Cihan stayed where he was, inches from her, his chest rising and falling with shallow, uneven breaths. His frustration burned, but beneath it lay a deeper wound.
What am I even holding onto anymore? Does she want this to work, or am I the only one trying to save something that's already gone?
Her breath caught in her throat as he closed the distance between them, his presence too overwhelming, too intense. She could feel the heat of his gaze on her, and it sparked a jolt of frustration that shot through her. Without thinking, she spun away, running from him, running from the truth. Her heels clicked sharply against the creaking wooden floor as she paced the room in quick, furious strides.
Each step seemed to make her frustration swell, her heartbeat thundering in her chest. His accusations, his doubts, felt like a weight she couldn't shake. Not trusting her. The thought twisted inside her, making her skin burn with a mix of anger and betrayal.
"This is not how you fix things, Cihan!" shot over her shoulder venomously . "Dragging me out here like this, acting like some kind of dictator—it's not going to make me trust you. It's just going to make me hate you more!"
The words slipped out before she could stop them, harsh and raw. The silence that followed felt thick, almost suffocating. For a split second, she wondered if she had gone too far, if she had let the anger bubble over one too many times. But then she squared her shoulders and refused to take the words back. 'No', He needs to hear this. He needs to understand how far he's pushed me.
Turning her back to him, her breath shallow but steady, though inside, her emotions were unraveling. Why does it feel like every time I open up, I just get hurt more? The thought gnawed at her, but she pushed it down. She wouldn't let him see how close she was to breaking.
Her words struck him like a punch, each one cutting deeper than the last, but Cihan refused to let them show. He pushed the sting aside, locking it down in a corner of his mind where he wouldn't have to deal with it. Jaw tightened, Chest rose with a slow, deliberate breath, exhaling with the weight of unspoken frustration.
