LEADEN

RAISE A GLASS OR HUNDREDS OF GLASSES

I kept drinking throughout the night... Waking up the next morning was a challenge. My brain was a jellyfish—a quivering, boneless ache. I wondered if they could feel pain. I needed to rehydrate immediately. A beer would hit the spot.

After crawling out of bed, I caught my reflection in the full-length mirror. This wasn’t me. The state of my eyes, the expression on my face, the pallor of my skin... The memory of how life had spit me into bed last night landed with a sickening thud.

I slipped on a robe to leave the room. I had taken only a few steps down the corridor when, behold: a giant of a man with only a towel around his waist. He must have been two meters tall. His shoulders were massive, each of his arms almost as thick as my torso. He wasn’t a man; he was a giant. Where had he come from? I slapped a hand over one eye and screamed. The man began sputtering in Portuguese. Alice ran out of the bathroom—covered in bubbles—shouting in French. They were both in a panic. Alice pulled me into one of the rooms lining the corridor, closed the door, and shushed me.

“Are you out of your mind, Naz? Why are you making such a fuss?” she sounded annoyed.

“I saw a half-naked giant at the ass-crack of dawn. What do you expect?” I said, my voice tight.

“It’s almost 1:00 p. M., Naz, not the ass-crack of dawn,” she corrected me, as if that were the only issue here.

“Is that the point? What’s that man doing here? And don’t you have a bathroom in your bedroom?”

“I do, but we did things in there. The bathtub, the Jacuzzi, the shower cabin—none of them are usable right now.” She was surprisingly cheerful about it.

“Good for you!” I said. “How old are you again, acting like unruly kindergartners? How many times have I told you, when we’re on a girls-only vacation, don’t bring strange men to the house. I’m a married woman. What am I doing in the same house as a strange man?”

She laughed at my response.

“Are you married? Really? Where’s your husband, Naz? You sat alone on the boat all night. If you really had a husband, he’d be by your side. He’d dance with you, refresh your drink… I carried you to your bed. If you really had a husband, he would’ve tucked you in.”

What she said stung. It wasn’t just that we were on the verge of divorce; I had always been alone throughout my marriage. I had left Türkiye the day before around 6:00 p. M., and now it was almost 3:00 p. M. There. Wouldn’t a husband worry about his wife by this hour? He’d once sent an avalanche of emails to a sports club because a football player hadn’t posted anything on his social account for two days. He never once worried about me or called. Didn’t even send a message.

“I’m going down to the kitchen,” I said, my voice flat. “I’ll grab a beer and head out. Make sure that man is out of the château by the time I get back, Alice.”

I grabbed my beer and went out into the garden. Alice’s father had gifted her this château. For now, she used it for gatherings with her girlfriends. She said she’d reopen it as a hotel when she got older, like her father had, but a person had to grow up before they could get old. Her father, hoping she’d become a businesswoman, had entrusted her with the hotel; Alice had turned the grand château into her personal playground. Yet, how loved she was. I, on the other hand, broke my back for everyone, struggled for everything, even took on others’ missions, but was never appreciated. I wished I could be as indifferent and heedless as Alice.

I roamed the garden, drinking my beer, then went back inside. I grabbed a cider from the kitchen and went up to my room. Everything was everywhere. All right, there were staff, but I was human, after all. It wasn’t a room fit for a human. Even stables were tidier. While tidying up, I found my phone under the bed. It was off. I hoped the battery had just died. It would be terrible if I had dropped and broken it; setting up a new phone would be a huge hassle. Luckily, the battery had only died. The moment I turned on my phone, notifications poured in. An email from Erdem—my lawyer—messages from Yusuf, and missed calls... They all dropped in one by one.

First, I checked the email from Erdem. It was the divorce protocol. Then I returned to the messages. Yusuf had sent dozens of threatening messages.

“Naz, where are you? It’s this late, where are you? What does a married woman do out at this hour? Dammit, pick up the phone, don’t drive me crazy…”

Dozens of similar messages. Nearly three hundred calls... Finally, my phone rang again. Yusuf was calling.

“What do you want, Yusuf?” I answered.

“Talk to me properly. Where have you been until this hour?”

“None of your business, Yusuf. Did you ever account to me for where you disappeared? Am I supposed to account to the man I’m divorcing?”

“Ah, there’s that matter too… I opened my eyes to that scoundrel, Erdem. He was just before my eyes. Divorce protocol, assault report… You might as well have hired a sniper; it would have been less painful. It turns out what a grudge you harbored against me, how much you hated me! I nourished a snake in my bosom. Good for you, rich girl. One would expect this from a woman who works like a horse for a rival company without pitying her own father.”

People like Yusuf were like that. He would drown you but blame you for muddying the water.

“Sign it and let’s end this, Yusuf. I can’t tolerate you anymore.” My voice came out cool, surprising even myself.

“I’m the one who can’t tolerate you anymore! I’m throwing out your belongings. I’m never giving you the house.”

“Am I relegated to your flea-infested house? I’m staying in a private château right now.”

When we bought that house, when we furnished it, I was so enthusiastic… I had decorated that house with so many dreams, thinking Yusuf and I would have a home. No château, no palace… I didn’t care for any of them. If it were up to me, I’d want to be loved unconditionally. I’d even live in a hut with my husband, alone, in peace and love. We’re divorcing, our marriage is ending, but he’s still talking about the house…

“A château? What château? Whose arms are you in?” he responded.

There you go. I’m concerned about one thing, and he’s concerned about another…

“Know your place, Yusuf. Don’t confuse me with yourself.”

“When did I ever get into someone else’s arms?” he sounded offended.

“When did I, Yusuf?”

“Why weren’t you answering your phone all this time then?”

“When did you ever answer my calls, that you’re asking me to account for this today? Do you have something important to say?”

“When I call, the operator says you’re calling internationally. Have you left the country?” Oh, boy... He was full of surprises.

“I’ve left you, too.” To be honest, I enjoyed responding that way.

“If you don’t come to the divorce hearing, how will I get rid of you?”

“I gave Erdem my proxy,” I said.

“They’ll put me in jail, then.”

“Really? And what for?”

“I get derailed when I see him; I’m sure I’ll strike him in court, and I’ll go to jail.”

“Your faith in the country’s justice system brings tears to my eyes, but Erdem will handle you. So don’t you try it. I’ll be there at the hearing. I want to be there when I divorce you.”

“I’ll divorce you,” he challenged.

“I filed the lawsuit first, Yusuf.”

“We have a religious marriage, too.” He was only concerned about getting the last word.

But I had an ace up my sleeve too. “Well... Actually, that fell apart yesterday when you told me, ‘I’m divorcing you.’ Only a signature is left. With one signature, I’ll be free of you. I specifically talked to Erdem so they wouldn’t suggest marriage therapists or anything. He’ll do everything to finalize our divorce,” I said cheerfully.

“That uncouth man won’t miss an opportunity; he’ll do it.”

“Talk properly about my friend. He’s a civilized and kind person, unlike you.”

“Am I uncivilized?” he sounded offended.

“Yes, you are. I’m fed up with all your boorishness and rudeness…” He was hitting my nerves again.

“Then why did you marry me, dammit? You literally hounded me.”

My eyes welled up. I tilted my head back to push the tears away and took a deep breath.

“I thought you loved me,” I said, swallowing the knot in my throat. “I never thought someone like you could be so love-deficient.”

“Even your father didn’t find you worthy enough for his love. Why would I love you? Nagging, fights, brawls all the time. Even on our honeymoon, you were hard to please.”

“I was very happy on our honeymoon, unlike what you remember. Don’t try to project your own inadequacy onto me.”

“Is that why you were so fixated on the Maldives? ‘Oh, the hotel I stayed at last time was *this* way, oh, I ate *that* thing at *that* place and it was so good, oh, I surfed here, I dived there…’”

“I wanted to visit the places where I feel happy and experience the activities I enjoyed with my husband. But we were stuck in a hotel room in Antalya instead, thanks to you. There was unnecessary flattery every single day, just because it was their boss’s room. We couldn’t even be alone… The room’s decor was like a dive bar. Rose petals, champagne, leopard-print satin sheets…”

“We couldn’t live up to your class, Ms. Naz, what can you do…”

“You couldn’t, Yusuf. To be honest, you never kept up with me. After we divorce, I don’t even want to see your face. Besides, your relatives were also unique specimens… I’m most happy about getting rid of them. Let anyone who fights with their husband come and stay at your house now. You deal with them yourself… I’d be less humiliated in a dive bar than I was in my marriage with you. Enough. Hang up already. I don’t even want to hear your name!”

Without letting him answer, I hung up. Then I blocked his number from every app and device he could reach me on. I went down to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of ice-cold rosé, went back to my room, and filled the Jacuzzi.

In the ice-cold water, I held the bottle to my lips and toasted the end of my marriage.