Chapter Text
“You act like you’re so goddamn noble, like you’re above everyone else. Truly unfortunate that I’m the only one who sees you for what you really are—cruel,” Pars spits at him.
Given how far the other prosecutor was in his rage, Ilgaz knew that it would be futile to try and fight back. And honestly, deep down, Ilgaz didn’t blame him. He’s sure that if he was in Pars’ place, if someone had promised Defne the world and then snatched it away from her, he’d be beyond furious. It’s not like he wanted to break Neva’s heart, though. But, well. That’s the way things ended up, and he genuinely is sorry for it.
“She was going to move here for you, you know,” Pars continues, his voice growing louder and louder, “she got a transfer to Istanbul last week and was going to wrap things up in Ankara.”
At this, Ilgaz winces. He does know. He’s tempted to interrupt the other man, tempted to make him see the logic in all of this. Neva hates Istanbul, always has, and is really going to be much happier staying in Ankara, where most of her friends are, anyway. But he holds his tongue, knowing that Pars couldn’t care less about any of that right now.
“Honesty, that’s another thing you supposedly value. And god, I can’t stand it when people praise you, talking about how honest you are. Well, an honest man wouldn’t have made my sister fall in love with him, propose, and then call off the goddamn wedding!” Pars growls, his volume increasing to a yell by the end of his little rant.
Ilgaz winces slightly, trying very hard to keep his eyes on Pars and not look around them, where he would meet the gazes of various workers of the courthouse, who are surely staring wide-eyed at the two usually composed and professional prosecutors airing out their dirty laundry in a very public corridor. He deserves this, he has no doubt about that. But would it be too much to ask for Pars to move this into one of their offices, instead?
“Pars, I’m really sorry,” Ilgaz sighs, knowing that his apology doesn’t even begin to encompass things, “but can we—”
“‘Sorry’ won’t be fixing my sister’s broken heart,” Pars roars, “‘sorry’ is the last thing I want to be hearing right now!”
Well, what do you want to hear? Ilgaz stops himself from asking, knowing all too well what the answer is. Silence. Silence is exactly what Pars wants to hear. Which is fine, Ilgaz knows he deserves all of this and more, but it’s truly getting out of hand. He draws the line at them breaking professional boundaries. And this is breaking just about a dozen of them, not to mention making all of the poor passerbys feel massively uncomfortable. Or entertained, but that’s beside the point.
“Pars,” he tries again, firmer, “can we please—”
“I should’ve known better!” Pars fumes, interrupting Ilgaz yet again, appearing as to not have heard him at all, “You were insufferable ever since university, years of being a thorn in my side! I should’ve known better than to let an arrogant bastard like you near my baby sister!”
At this point, Ilgaz catches a flash of long, brown hair in his peripheral vision. His eye twitches irritably on reflex, his mind somehow knowing exactly what—rather, who—it is, and he turns his head slightly.
There she is, the lawyer who has loved making his life as difficult as possible since they had the misfortune of meeting several months ago, on opposite sides of a case. She looks positively delighted at the scene before her, a wide grin stretched across her face as her eyes dart between him and Pars.
Ilgaz resists the urge to sigh. Great, just great. Ceylin Erguvan, exactly the person he needed witnessing Pars chewing him out.
He refocuses his eyes on the angry prosecutor, but not quick enough to miss the lawyer raising her eyebrows at him with a silent laugh as she passes them in the corridor.
He only has to stand there getting yelled at for another few minutes before, in a stroke of luck, Başsavcı runs into them and then barks at each of them to return to their respective offices and get back to work.
It’s mid-morning and the day ahead is already seeming long and awful. With a heaving sigh, he shakes his computer mouse to wake up the monitor, already counting down the hours until he’s home and can check his email.
. . .
When Ilgaz returns to his apartment after work that evening, he feels infinitely lighter, as if a guilty weight that had been resting on his shoulders for months, had disappeared. As painfully awkward as it had been—and the fact that awkwardness was the strongest emotion Ilgaz felt is telling enough on its own—he’s certain that breaking things off with Neva had been the right decision. Granted, he never should have proposed to her in the first place. But, well, at least he realized his mistake now and not after tying the knot.
He sets his keys in a bowl, toes off his shoes, and hangs his coat before making a beeline to his couch. Dinner can wait. He then pops open his laptop and opens the inbox to an anonymous email address he had gotten from a chatroom several months ago; what he’s been itching to do all day. Ilgaz realizes that hearing this without context would make him sound like a creep, or insane, or both, which is why no one, except for Eren, knows about it.
And still, despite swearing up and down that what he’s doing is very normal behavior, the opposite of creepy, his friend never misses the chance to tease Ilgaz about the email girl.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Ilgaz can’t help the slight smile he gives and the sense of excitement he always seems to feel when he has a new message from the email girl. He leans back, and takes in what she has for him tonight.
To: Kestane2010
From: istanbulkız91
2 September 2021, 11:58
Dear Kestane,
I finally had the chance to try out the cafe you recommended in Beyoğlu, and, as always, you were spot on! I went this morning and treated myself; their coffee was rich like you said it was, but I have to be honest—their pastries were the highlight. I will definitely be going back! :)
Since it’s my turn to share a place, check out the coordinates I’m attaching to this email. There’s a man by the docks with a shawarma cart. It’s one of my favorites, and he’s been there forever. I used to go a lot because of my dad’s work (he was a sailor), though I don’t go as much anymore.
Anyway, how have you been recently? I know it’s only been a few days, but somehow it feels like forever since we last talked! You mentioned your little sister joining a football league at her school, is that going well?
Talk to you soon!
istanbulkız
He grins as he reads over her email again, before typing his own response.
To: istanbulkız91
From: Kestane2010
2 September 2021, 18:17
istanbulkız,
I’m glad you enjoyed the cafe, and I’ll have to check out the man with the shawarma cart when I can. I’m doing pretty well. Yes, my sister joined her school’s football team! She’s definitely not a natural, but it’s okay, my brother and I are helping her practice when we can.
This morning, I finally broke things off with the fiancée I’ve been telling you about. She lives in Ankara, so I had to do it over the phone, which I know sounds bad, but frankly, I think she’ll get over it faster than she thinks. I know I’m pretty much over it already. Which I know also sounds bad. Man, I’m really not doing a great job of convincing you that I’m not a jerk, am I? I don’t know how your experiences with breakups have been, so perhaps this sounds crazy, but I feel so much better. I don’t know, maybe I’m a little messed up, but I realized too late that I never should have proposed in the first place, so I think calling things off with her was the best thing I could have done at this point. Anyway, enough about me.
Happy Birthday! (Nope, I didn’t forget!) I hope 30 treats you well, and that you got to spend time with family and friends today. I’m sure your dad is smiling down on you today, and I’m even more sure of how proud he’d be of where you’ve ended up.
Happy years and best wishes always,
Kestane
His own birthday a few months ago might have been one of the most trying in recent years, having lost a bitter battle in court against Ceylin Erguvan, but the silver lining of the day was virtually coming across the email girl. Losing the case had left him fuming, angry and feeling like he couldn’t vent to any of his friends or family. So, he had done something that he ordinarily would’ve scoffed at; he joined an online chatroom to complain about his work.
It was there that he had found istanbulkız91, and they had immediately clicked. After hours of talking, they had moved into emailing privately, and hadn’t stopped exchanging messages since. It was a little unsettling to think of how perfectly they seemed to get along, despite never having met in person or knowing much personal information about each other. Ilgaz doesn’t think he’s been able to talk to anyone so easily in his life, not even Eren or Neva. He’s told the email girl things about his life, about his mother, that he hadn’t shared with anyone else.
They did have a few rules, naturally. After they started talking, they had quickly agreed that both of them preferred to stay mostly anonymous. Other than their respective birthdays and genders, and the fact that they both lived in Istanbul, neither shared any other details of their personal life. Sometimes it was a bit tricky to talk about his work without revealing that he was a prosecutor, or refer to someone as ‘my father’s boss’s son’ instead of their name, and some days the curiosity to know more about the woman he feels such deep connection with was stronger than others, but for the most part Ilgaz is happy with their situation.
He closes his laptop with a smile, looking forward to a thrilling night of cooking and reading, a little part of him already anticipating the email girl’s next message.
. . .
Typically, Ilgaz gets his coffee from the courthouse. It’s by far not the best quality, but it’s free, and he generally doesn’t feel too snobby about his coffee. Sometimes, usually on weekends when he feels like splurging, his sweet tooth will overpower his rational side, and he’ll treat himself to an outrageously overpriced fancy latte. It’s a Tuesday, but today is one of those days. He’s had an immensely busy few weeks, which hasn’t been helped by Pars yelling at him last Thursday and proceeding to ice him out ever since.
He’s in the queue at a place he and Eren sometimes hang around, grabbing a bite to eat and discussing the latest on their cases. It’s close to both the courthouse and precinct, the food is good, and the staff are friendly. The line is fairly long and he’s currently at the very end, so he’s spacing out, when he sees Ceylin Erguvan and her sidekick walk in.
The curly-haired guy trailing after her, Engin Tilmen, is the son of one of the biggest thorns in the collective state prosecutors’ sides. Yekta Tilmen, a wealthy and influential man infamous for eagerly picking up the cases of the most notorious criminals, might be Ilgaz’s least favorite lawyer. While Ceylin drives him crazy, he knows that she most likely isn’t a genuinely bad person in the way he’s certain Yekta is. He isn’t sure what Yekta’s son’s deal is, but for some reason, he works as Ceylin’s assistant, rather than for his father’s firm.
He had actually run into Ceylin and Engin at this cafe before, about a month ago. Like today, he was waiting in line first when they walked in, and after catching sight of Ilgaz, Ceylin had scowled and handed Engin money to buy both of their drinks before exiting the cafe to wait outside. This time, she surprises Ilgaz slightly by walking right up to him with a smirk on her face, Engin pensively following.
“Bad week, huh?” she asks him, cheerfully.
He scowls, his mood instantly souring.
“No need to gloat about it,” he grumbles, turning around to face the queue.
Almost immediately, she taps his shoulder, and he looks back to face her, a single eyebrow cocked questioningly.
“I know Pars Savcı has been giving you a rough time at the courthouse, I hope you two resolve things,” she says, her smirk completely gone and replaced with a serious expression.
He narrows his eyes at her, his temper flaring up. He’s generally a calm person, and in retrospect, maybe Ceylin really was trying to extend an olive branch his way, but in the moment, all he can see is the woman who always manages to get under his skin like no one else.
“Yeah, I’m sure you do,” he snaps at her before he can control his words.
She rolls her eyes and throws her hands up in response.
“God, there’s just no trying to be nice to you, is there?” she groans.
By now, the understanding that he’s in the wrong here has crept up on him, so he turns back around, having nothing else to say to her.
. . .
Later that afternoon Ilgaz finds himself at the precinct, hunched over a computer monitor in the middle of the bullpen with Eren and Umut, going over security camera footage for one of his cases.
“Umut, could you skip over to the fourteenth of August? Başsavcı was saying—” Ilgaz starts, before being abruptly interrupted by Eren.
“ Kraliçe!” Eren cries with delight, and Ilgaz startles, looking up from the computer to Eren, and following his line of sight to none other than Ceylin herself.
“Komiser, Umut,” she greets as she passes by the desk the three of them are crowded around; smiling at Umut, giving Eren a fist bump, and letting her eyes slide over Ilgaz as if he was an extension of the chair he was seated in.
“You two know her?” Ilgaz asks, incredulously.
“Er, don’t you? She’s a lawyer, you must have passed by her at the courthouse and here a million times in the last few years. I know her by name because her niece, Parla, is Tuğçe’s best friend from school,” Eren explains.
“Huh,” Ilgaz says.
“Ceylin Hanım is great!” Umut adds, “She’s hilarious and always really nice to the officers.”
“Nice?” Ilgaz scoffs, “We must be talking about different people.”
At that, Eren raises his eyebrows.
“Ohh Sayın Savcım! Cool down, your anger is heating things up here!” Eren jokes, “What do you have against Ceylin?”
“Remember the case I lost on my birthday a few months ago? The one with the sneaky lawyer that put me in a bad mood?” Ilgaz asks.
“Ahh,” Eren says, immediately making the connection, his eyes widening.
Ilgaz grunts in response, and turns back to the security camera footage.
. . .
Despite having run into Ceylin not once but twice during the workday, Ilgaz’s mood is saved when he checks his inbox later that day, to find a message waiting from the email girl from the day before.
To: Kestane2010
From: istanbulkız91
6 September 2021, 17:41
Kestane,
Thank you so much for the birthday wishes! :) I also hope that 30 treats me well, at least better than the past few years have, haha. Not to throw a pity party, but celebrations weren’t exactly what I assume you’ve imagined. I know I’ve talked about this before, but my family has a habit of not being super mindful when it comes to me. Which is fine, I know they all have their issues, and love me in their own way, but it does make birthdays a bit lonelier. I ended up working pretty late last Thursday, and had arrived home to an asleep house and a half eaten cake with candles numbered “29” left out on the counter. Don’t worry about it, I find it more funny than sad, at this point. On the bright side, my little sister made me a nice playlist for my birthday, which was really sweet of her.
Anyway, sorry for getting back to you so late! This definitely sounds like a lame excuse, but I promise it’s not; work has been crazy lately. :( I won’t go into too much detail, because we agreed not to go into the details of our professions, but I’ve been stressed and sleeping less (what’s new?) because of how much I’ve taken on. All this to say, I’ll try to be better from now on with timely replies!
About your ex-fiancée—it definitely sounds like you made the right decision. Your happiness should be the most important thing, and if breaking up with her was what will make you happy in the long run, well, good. And I don’t think you’re crazy, or a jerk, either. Actually, you’re probably the nicest, warmest guy I know, and I don’t even know you! But my point is, sometimes people get in or stay in relationships for the wrong reasons; because they’re scared, or don’t know better. And that’s okay, most of us have made that mistake at some point, including me. My ex from university was a cheating bastard, but I was young and vulnerable, and I stupidly let him stick around for another few years. Also, I’m not sure if this will make you feel better, but weirdly, it seems to be the season for ending engagements; someone I know from work ended his engagement last week, too!
Happy to hear your sister’s football endeavors are going well, though! I wish either of my sisters were half as interesting. My older sister got married quite young, and privately, I think she’s a bit jealous of my career and choosing to stay single since university, sometimes she can be bitter. She’s honestly pretty simple, though, just praise any of her housekeeping skills and you’ll put her in a good mood for a few hours (my mother is the same, haha). And my younger sister I love to death, but she’s in university now, and ever since she’s gone through puberty she’s been prone to lashing out, and has unfortunately been in her “too cool to hang out with abla anymore” phase. Sometimes I worry about the friends she spends time with, she’s become so obsessed with superficial things ever since meeting them, but, there’s only so much I can do.
My gosh, I’ve gotten carried away again. Sorry, I just noticed how long this was! Anyway, I hope this email finds you well.
All the best,
istanbulkız
The furrow between Ilgaz’s brows grows more and more as he reads the woman’s email, feeling upset, almost outraged for her. He can’t believe her family could be so ungrateful, especially, given the hints in her previous messages, she seems to have been their primary source of income, especially since her father passed away a few years ago. He starts typing a response, hoping that somehow his words might give her comfort.
To: istanbulkız91
From: Kestane2010
7 September 2021, 20:36
istanbulkız,
First of all, never apologize for writing a long email. I’m always happy to hear your thoughts (and share mine). Nor should you apologize for taking a few days to respond (which, by the way, isn’t that long!) I understand very well how having a busy career can be. Secondly, I’m so sorry your family takes you for granted. It really shouldn’t be that way, especially given how much you seem to sacrifice for them. Since my mom passed away, my dad and aunt have been kind of mentally “absent” for me in the way that your family seems to be, but I’m lucky to have my siblings still close to me.
I’m sorry about your friend from work, but I have to admit, it’s nice knowing that I’m not the only one in the world who made a mistake in getting engaged to the wrong person.
About your younger sister, I feel the same way about my brother. He’s always been a “troubled” (I hate that word, but I don’t have another way to describe it) kid, so it’s not really something that developed as he grew older and started hanging out with suspicious guys. But sometimes I feel like he’s constantly getting into stupid situations, and expecting me or our dad to somehow get him out. He’s two years out of high school, and has been working at a cafe at a university since—I know I’ve mentioned how hard my dad has been on all of us growing up, so you can imagine how upset this has made him—but kind of randomly, he’s been talking about studying graphic design. So, I don’t want to get my hopes up too high, but it would be great if he applies for university next term.
Good luck with work, and please make sure you get enough sleep! Taking care of your body is infinitely more valuable than getting a leg up with your career.
Fond regards,
Kestane
Ilgaz is lucky that he leaves his laptop open, because he’s jolted with surprise not an hour later with the ping it gives, as a new email arrives in his inbox. With a smile, he puts his book down, and pulls his laptop close once again. This might be the fastest time frame the email girl has replied within.
To: Kestane2010
From: istanbulkız91
7 September 2021, 21:25
Kestane!
Gosh, maybe your dad and my mom need to belatedly go to classes on attentive parenting together. Also, I feel like I should have clarified; it definitely wasn’t a friend who broke off his engagement, it’s actually that arrogant guy that’s been annoying me for months. So I won’t be passing on your “sorry” to him, since I never talk to him unless I absolutely have to.
Anyhow, it’s so exciting to hear that your brother is thinking of studying graphic design! If he ends up in university, perhaps he might run into my younger sister, and they can straighten each other out, haha.
Talk soon!
istanbulkız
. . .
September blurs into October, and Ilgaz thinks things are finally simmering down at work. Having been forced to work with him on a case, Pars hasn’t been able to completely ignore Ilgaz anymore because of his breakup with Neva. It’s far from the tentative friendship they had been building up to before September, but at least it’s something. In fact, the only lasting downside of all of this has been the single and overeager women working at the courthouse who have quickly noticed the lack of engagement ring on Ilgaz’s finger.
One of whom is currently unfortunately striking up a conversation with him.
“Ilgaz Savcı!” one of the court clerks, Melek, calls, stopping him mid-walk back to his office, curling a hand around his forearm and leaning in a little too close for comfort, “I was so sorry to hear about your engagement.”
“Oh, um, thank you, Melek. It’s really okay, though,” Ilgaz reassures her, leaning back and lightly tugging his arm back toward him, but her grip is tight.
“Well, if you’re ever really lonely, or just need someone to talk to…” she starts, looking at him expectantly.
“Oh, thank you, um,” he answers, looking around frantically.
What were the chances that in a given moment, he wouldn’t know a single person in the corridor? Low, but apparently not zero. He’s on the verge of panic, when Ceylin rounds the corner. Great. Far from the ideal, but he’s at a level of such discomfort that he’d rather spend a few extra minutes with the sassy lawyer than spend another second in Melek’s grip.
“Avukat Hanım!” he calls, taking advantage of the distraction his loud voice makes to wrench his sleeve free from Melek, “Just the person I was looking for. Here, I’ll let you into my office so that we can discuss the details of that case we’re both on next week.”
He looks at Ceylin with wide eyes, wordlessly imploring her to just go along with him, and thankfully, for once in her life, she seems to have enough tact to remain silent. She quirks a confused brow at him, but nonetheless gestures with her hands in the direction of his office, for him to lead the way.
“If you’ll excuse us,” he tells Melek, putting as much false apology into his expression as he can.
“No worries, Sayın Savcım. You can always come to me with whatever you need. Seriously, with anything . Easy work!” Melek calls as Ilgaz and Ceylin round into his office.
As Melek’s words sink in, the confusion is wiped off of Ceylin’s face, and replaced with a mixture of smugness and amusement.
“My, my,” Ceylin chuckles, “popular, aren’t we, Savcım?”
“Thanks. Obviously, we don’t actually have another case together, so you can go now, if you like,” Ilgaz coughs, feeling his cheeks grow warm, ignoring her teasing comment and for some reason finding it hard to look Ceylin in the eye.
“Later, Casanova,” she calls out cheerfully, stepping out of his office.
. . .
All in all, Ilgaz has been having a fairly successful week. He’s closed three separate cases, helped a new prosecutor get oriented with a clerk and everything, and today alone caught and apprehended two suspects for his latest case. After a quick stop in Eren’s office for tea and to catch up, he’s more than ready to head home for dinner.
As he crosses the bullpen, aiming for the exit of the precinct, the sound of a woman yelling from far away catches his attention. Frowning, he pauses his stride. The sound starts to grow louder, and he backtracks his steps, stopping at the stairs to the basement holding cells. It’s developed to a chorus of voices shouting, and he’s pretty sure he recognizes some of the officers.
Breaking out into a jog, he tears down the stairs, skidding to a stop at the officer’s desk just in front of the cells.
The scene before him is certainly a sight to behold—three officers, all looking like they’re exerting a fair amount of energy, working together without much success to restrain a hurricane in human form; none other than Ceylin Erguvan.
“Hey!” Ilgaz barks, and Ceylin’s eyes snap up to meet his.
“Sayın Savcım,” one of the officers grunts in greeting through gritted teeth.
“What’s going on here?” Ilgaz asks, his eyes darting between the officers and Ceylin.
Thankfully, Ceylin calms down enough to explain, and the policemen loosen their grip.
“These officers ,” she snarls, “have illegally detained one of my clients.”
At this, Ilgaz raises his eyebrows, waiting for the officers to share their side.
“I assure you, Sayın Savcım, that none of us have partaken in anything illegal. Avukat Hanım’s client matches the description for the suspect that Komiser Bey sent over in the morning. This was a routine arrest, we didn’t overstep into any property without a warrant. When we brought him here, Avukat Hanım was waiting, and she—” one of the officers starts.
“I told them that my client has a concrete alibi, and if they would have listened to me for two damn minutes, we could have looked at security footage of the location my client was accused of being at, seen that he wasn’t there, and released him. But these brainless idiots seem to lack basic comprehension abilities,” she growls, interrupting the officer.
Of course, Ceylin with her unconventional and disruptive methods just had to ruin Ilgaz’s easy week. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he tries to swallow his irritation. If Ceylin just learned to wait for once in her life, she wouldn’t have the host of problems she seems to always be juggling.
“So, they didn’t do anything illegal. Avukat Hanım, please learn to control your temper before you accuse officers of the state of committing felonies. And if you could please head upstairs, so that I can wrap up this mess you’ve caused before it gets worse, that would be excellent,” Ilgaz tells her.
As soon as the words leave his mouth, he winces in his head. There he was, again letting this woman break through the discipline that he’s had for the last 35 years. She certainly needed to be told off, but Ilgaz knows that he would’ve worded it in a much more restrained way for just about anyone else.
“Worse? Oh, you haven’t seen anything, Sayın Savcım, I could make things much worse,” Ceylin scoffs.
Anger flares throughout his body at words, he can’t believe the nerve of this woman. Never mind, he doesn’t feel at all bad for the way he spoke to her.
“How childish are you?!” he asks her incredulously, suddenly thrown to their first encounter.
Nothing’s changed, obviously.
“Watch your mouth, Avukat Hanım, before I have you arrested for threatening a state prosecutor,” he warns her, his voice as cold as he knows his expression must be.
With that, he stalks off, trusting the officers to deal with her, and not having it in him to hear what else she might come up with. The encounter with Ceylin puts him in an irate mood for most of the evening, until he finds the time to check his inbox and completely forgets about her, his emotions overtaken by worry for the email girl.
. . .
To: Kestane2010
From: istanbulkız91
23 October 2021, 20:08
Hi Kestane,
Don’t mind me, I seriously need to vent, or I’m going to explode. I’ve just had the worst work day of my life, I think. I don’t know if I even have the energy to type this all out but in short:
In the morning, my little sister came into my room sobbing, and then cried to me for hours about how my best friend had been coming onto her for months. Apparently, it started out with subtle comments, but as she kept turning him down he got more and more aggressive, until yesterday he threatened to hit her if she didn’t go out with him. I can’t even articulate how fucking awful I’m feeling. My best friend . Someone I’ve trusted with my life’s secrets. Harassed my baby sister. She’s 20 for god’s sake. Hardly older than a child. We’re 30, he’s known her since she was a little kid. I’m so sick to my stomach I can’t believe I didn’t see what was going on. I swore I’d never fail to take care of her after our dad passed away, and here I am not yet two years later, already doing just that.
And that’s not even all of it. I don’t know if you remember, but my now ex best friend was my employee, so obviously I had to fire him first thing when I got to the office. I was already stressed and overwhelmed with work, and now I’ve got double the work to do. I really, really hate giving something up once I’ve started, but I’m going to have to drop out of a lot of work-related promises I made. But of course, I can’t even find it in me to worry about that right now, all I have on my mind is my sister.
Oh right, it gets worse. So naturally I was in a foul mood after everything that happened in the morning. And I think I mentioned before that I have a really short fuse. I tried being as calm as possible at work since I was in a public place today, but something else didn’t go as planned at work, and that was really the straw that broke the camel’s back. I ended up lashing out at a lot of people, saying stupid things that I knew weren’t true. Of course, that arrogant guy at work was one of the people that got to witness my little meltdown. Not that I care, but I don’t know. It still stung a little, made an already shit day even worse.
Okay, I’d better hop off here and go cry myself to sleep, before I do something else stupid.
Cheers,
istanbulkız
He’s horrified. Never in their communication has Ilgaz so desperately wanted to meet the email girl. She’s just gone through one of the hardest things imaginable, and he’s going crazy because he can’t help her through it. Obviously a time like this would be horrible timing to suggest meeting each other in person, and deep down he still doesn’t think he’s ready, but regardless, the urge to be there by her side persists, born out of the deep connection he feels with her.
So he sighs, starting to type his response, knowing that words can only bring her so much comfort in a situation like this.
. . .
A week into November, and Ilgaz reluctantly admits to himself that he’s noticing how different Ceylin is. Generally, he tries to notice her as little as possible, but she makes it so damn hard, being the force of nature she is. The more he tries to ignore her, the more that silly, uncooperative part of his brain seems determined to make her a vibrant presence.
She’s always had a focused resting face when he crosses paths with her, and she always meets his eyes in the corridors. They don’t nod at each other, it’s an unspoken rule of sorts between them, but they always look. It’s like saying ‘I see you, but I don’t care. You don’t mean enough for me to acknowledge,’ or maybe ‘You don’t deserve an ounce of my courtesy.”
Maybe he’s just imagining it, because loathe as he is to admit it, he does obsess a bit over every micro interaction he has with her. But, it does seem like lately when they walk past each other, she looks away quicker than she used to. He doesn’t think he’s imagining the bags under her eyes, though. She’s always seemed stressed, but not in the full-body exhaustion kind of way she’s been projecting lately.
There’s also her sidekick that he hasn’t seen around lately. Engin, Yekta Tilmen’s son. Maybe she banished him to the office because she realized how horrible he performs in court. He’ll admit that he’s more than a little curious as to what their deal is, but he knows it’s not his place to ask or to even have cared in the first place.
Or maybe, for some reason, Engin doesn’t work for her anymore. Maybe she’s like the email girl in that way; she has a close friend who worked for her and no longer does. This isn’t the first time Ilgaz has thought something like this.
Sometimes, he can’t help but think that the snarky way the email girl sometimes writes to him is exactly like how Ceylin might talk to him, if in some bizarre alternate reality they were friends. But, Ilgaz is a realist, so he doesn’t dwell on that too much. He does think that it’s a shame that such a version of Ceylin isn’t something that exists, that in this reality, they seem fated to be bitter acquaintances and reluctant opponents.