Take Me To Your Heart

Decisions, Decisions

When I return back to my place, I sit down to schedule some time to hang out with some girls. I love Ozan, but spending too much time around men is a recipe for a headache. I text Yasmin, asking which nights she is off this week. I invite Deniz as well, remembering my vow to become her friend.

Yasmin responds letting me know Wednesday is her only option. Deniz also responds quickly, happy to hear from me. Wednesday works for her so we set a date.

I pull out some leftovers from the fridge and place them in the microwave. I briefly consider looking at job opportunities while eating dinner, but instead get an urge to check out available rental properties. I should at least consider the idea of opening my restaurant, before I shut the door on it entirely.

With my dinner warmed, I take a seat at my dining table and open up my laptop. I start scrolling through listings, overwhelmed by all the options. For a moment, I find myself wondering how Ferit would approach this, before snapping myself out of it. I am annoyed at myself for even having the thought. I know what will make a beautiful restaurant, I remind myself. I'm the one that's worked in one for so many years!

I slam my laptop in frustration, my search derailed. I learn back in my chair and force myself to think rationally. Either I try to find another job and push this off another few years, or I trust Ferit. Neither one seems ideal.

I try to review my time with Ferit objectively: the cold professional I met today, the warm, family man I catch glimpses of when I see him with Zeynep and Bulut, the banter partner that seems to almost blush when I flirt with him at parties. It would help if I could understand his moods swings or why he had decided to knock on my door yesterday and offer partnership out of the blue.

Zeynep must have begged him to do this, I conclude. She knows I would never accept her help directly so she went to her brother. As much as Ferit is insisting that this is his idea, it just doesn't make much sense. And if it wasn't his idea, then of course he wouldn't trust me to run the place on my own.

Laila calls, interrupting my analysis. "Hey, love" I say into the phone, walking over to the kitchen to deposit my dirty dishes into the sink.

She's still on cloud nine from the engagement and the party and begins gushing about the proposal again as if I haven't already heard the story a million times. I smile, letting her blather on as I load the dishwasher.

Eventually, when she comes up for air, we finalize our plans for dinner. I realize I haven't told her I'm unemployed and free at all times. I fill her in on that disastrous night's events and she is immediately contrite for reveling in her own happiness.

"No, no" I try to reassure her, "don't worry about me. I'm so happy to see you this happy."

She's silent for a moment before asking the same question as everyone else. "Do you think now might be the time to open your own restaurant?" Even my baby sister is on my case.

"I'm thinking about it." I concede.

She lets out a small squeal of excitement, unable to contain herself. "Yes! You have to do this, didi."

She must know that I have been extra cautious to be sure I can provide for the two of us. But, I know she has never wanted me to live my life that way, especially now that we are more financially secure. I know she wants me to have the life I wanted before everything got derailed. Even if it doesn't always feel like there is a way back.

Telling her has made this idea far more concrete. Now I feel as though I would be disappointing my baby sister if I didn't pursue this. It's silly, but I want to live up to the podium she's placed me on.