LEADEN

GERARD'S MARINA

Alice and I had returned to Gerard’s marina. The most exciting parties on the Riviera were always there. When we arrived, everyone looked like they’d stepped out of ‘90s TV shows such as *Seinfeld* and *Friends*. A ’90s night for Americans, I supposed. There was karaoke and a giant Twister mat. I found my corner and sipped my drink, enjoying the view as always. Alice, on the other hand, was busy flirting with a group of American tourists.

“Good evening, do you have a lighter?” A deep, poetic voice filled my ears.

I turned my head to respond to the owner of this voice. His appeal was a perfect match for the way he sounded. “No, I don’t smoke.”

Although he was speaking English, I could pick up a French accent. Unable to suppress my curiosity, I asked:

“Are you Canadian?”

“Yes,” he said, “Montreal.”

“I’ve been to Quebec and Vancouver. I even had the chance to see the Northern Lights in Vancouver.” I tried not to be rude.

“How lovely. Perhaps one day I’ll host you, too. I think you’d love Montreal. By the way, I’m Guillaume,” he said, extending his hand.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Guillaume. I’m Naz.”

“Naz? What an interesting name. What does it mean?” I could tell he truly was curious.

“It means flirting with your beloved, to not immediately reciprocate affection even when you possess it, to slowly play hard to get. In a nutshell: coquetry or capricious—you name it!”

“Very interesting. Will Naz make *naz* to me one day?” A flirty and charming smile had already settled on his face, and my face mirrored it.

“Unfortunately, Naz is a married woman,” I said.

“Her husband must be an i***t. A smart man never leaves his wife alone, especially if she’s this beautiful. And if she’s not wearing any ring on her finger.” He was a hundred percent right about that, and I couldn’t agree more.

My ring… Yes, the ring I’d thrown at Yusuf before I left. The ring that had made me happier than anything when I first put it on. It had meant the world to me. My plane, my house, my land, my yacht, my shares—I had been able to buy everything money could buy, and the most expensive things, throughout my life. But nothing made me feel like the ruler of the world like the ring Yusuf put on my finger. He could have given me a bottle cap ring; what mattered was the intention. Yusuf wanted to unite our lives. The meaning of that couldn’t be compared to any material power.

I had wanted to use that ring like a bullet, to inflict on him the same pain he had caused me, because that man, who had given me wings of clouds with that ring, had torn them off with his own hands. The result was a miss. Only I was hurt; it was I who suffered. We had continued for so long because I had swallowed some things and overlooked others. Realizing that hits differently.

With the memories that came to mind, the Canadian next to me had completely faded from my perception.

A random evening came to mind… It was about the third week of our marriage. A Friday evening. We hadn’t had proper time alone since we were married; we were buried under work. I literally missed my husband in our own home. When I got home from work, I sent all the staff to their quarters and set up a beautiful table for us. Then I got myself ready. I put on my new lingerie and dress. And before bed, I would put on my new nightgown. I waited for Yusuf with great excitement, but he didn’t show up. I called him repeatedly, but he didn’t answer. While waiting for him, I finished the wine on the table. It wasn’t enough, so I opened another bottle. That was finished too, but Yusuf still didn’t come. I opened a beer, drank it all. Opened another one. Finally, I was on my fourth glass of cognac when His Excellency finally deigned to arrive.

“Why are you still up?” he asked.

Idiot! Look at the words that came out of his mouth the moment he entered the house.

“Where have you been until this hour?” I asked.

His response was careless. “We went out with the guys, just us men.”

“You could have let me know, couldn’t you?”

He mumbled something like, “We agreed on one drink, then the conversation grew, one thing led to another, and…” Not hearing an actual reason made me even madder.

“That’s not an excuse, Yusuf. You didn’t answer any of my calls.”

“We were in a noisy place—I probably didn’t hear.”

“You should have informed me! I’m your wife, Yusuf. What if it were an emergency? What if I was in a state where I needed you the most?” It was hard to control my temper.

“What could happen to you with all these guards around? Are they getting paid for nothing?”

“Are you trying to drive me crazy, Yusuf? Am I married to *them*? I’m married to *you*, I’m your wife!”

“Watch how you speak, or I might accidentally hurt you. What do you mean, am I married to them? Look, Naz, I swear I’ll go out and shoot them all one by one.”

“Are you shooting balloons at a carnival? Slow down a bit. What are you doing out until this hour without telling me?”

“You’re really dragging this out, girl! We’re like, just married. If you’re going to start nagging from day one, then oh boy…”

So the joke was on me?

“Oh really? Well, if I hadn’t told you where the hell I was and had been out until this hour, would you have been so calm about it?”

He didn’t even entertain the idea, saying, “Look, stop talking nonsense and irritating me! What are *you* doing out until this hour? You’re a married woman!”

I hurled the glass in my hand at him and answered in a voice that clearly showed how enraged I was:

“And *you’re* a married man! What are *you* doing out until this hour?”

“I’m a man, Naz.”

“A man, you say… Look at me… Just look at what I’m wearing!” I said, spinning around.

I was wearing a plum-colored, satin, spaghetti-strapped dress with a deep cleavage and a lacy slit that made my fair skin glow glamorously. The draping around my waist accentuated my curves. I was barefoot at that time of night, and my hair and makeup were already ruined, but even in this state, I looked alluring enough.

“Would a man with a wife like this leave her alone at home until this hour with dozens of guards? If you’re a man, you’d be by your wife’s side!”

“You’re going to make me kill everyone tonight, I get it now.”

“Is that what you understood from what I said? Yusuf, *you’re* the one who’s going to make me kill you! You ruined my whole night!”

I slowly began to cry. I was so angry and so sad about all the effort I had put into that evening with such enthusiasm.

“Huh! Now you’re bawling. Perfect. I’m going to bed. It’s late.”

Bless my heart, right? That night, I should have packed everything and left the house. I just put up with it instead, like an i***t.

Guillaume’s voice brought me back to reality. The memories must have left some expression on my face, for he spoke with a worried tone:

“Did I say something wrong?”

Although Yusuf didn’t deserve my efforts, my love, or perhaps me, yet I was a woman with self-respect, and even though I was on the verge of divorce, I still had an existing marriage, a vow of commitment.

“A ring, you say?” I responded arrogantly. “Even if I wear jewels on my hands and arms, it means nothing if I don’t uphold the responsibilities of a married person. I might not have my husband by my side right now, or my wedding ring—the symbol of my marriage—on my finger. But that doesn’t change the fact that I am truly married to someone and have made a vow of commitment. I have a husband, and you are not someone I need to convince of that reality. If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to enjoy the night and the view by sipping my drink in peace. Besides, what you’re looking for isn’t with me anyway,” I said, alluding to the lighter excuse.

Finally, I added, “Good night,” and politely sent him on his way.

It was almost two in the morning in Türkiye, but Yusuf hadn’t called me even once. He truly didn’t care about me at all. And here I was, like an i***t, acting all high and mighty about my so-called husband and my marriage vows.

There was no tomorrow; I had to start the divorce process.