A TALE OF BERDEL

CHAPTER 1: Friend’s Betrayal

A bittersweet smile played across my face, a raging fire burning in my heart. Today was the day I would die, the day they would be reborn.

How would I go on living after today?

How could I ever love someone else? This heart desired no one but him; it could not accept anyone else.

People danced in the center, my closest friend Dilan right beside me, and at the table across from me sat the man I had been in love with for three years—the man I had let into my heart—and the woman he would marry. How could my heart bear such pain?

Berivan was the woman who had stolen the heart of the man I loved, the woman who would marry him. At only twenty-two years old, she had auburn hair, light brown skin, and sea-blue eyes—a woman every man would desire.

Yusuf Ali Haznedar... to me, he was simply Yusuf.

My brother's closest friend was the man who would become the leader of the Haznedar tribe. When we first met, I was only fifteen. He had just returned from military service. At first, I wasn't immediately struck by him. I didn't like him at all.

Then he treated me with such interest that it became impossible not to fall in love. I became lost in those pitch-black eyes, as deep as a bottomless pit.

I realized I was in love with him when I was seventeen. By the time I accepted my love, I discovered he saw me as nothing more than a sister.

They were sitting in our mansion's courtyard with my brother. While they conversed, I was preparing coffee in the kitchen. Ignoring Dilan's sarcastic remarks, I carefully prepared Yusuf's coffee with little sugar, just the way he liked it, and added his favorite pistachio-flavored Turkish delights. As Dilan made my brother's coffee, I teased her, saying, "You're no different from me. Look how carefully you've prepared my brother's coffee," and laughed.

Blushing with embarrassment, Dilan turned after pouring the coffee and said, "Don't tease me, Berfin... I've done everything short of performing somersaults in the middle of the mansion to get your brother to notice me." I chuckled at her complaint.

Both tribes knew and recognized each other. My brother's friendship with Yusuf had brought the two families even closer.

As I approached them with the tray, Yusuf was speaking to my brother. "What he did was nothing short of betrayal," he said. "It's not enough that he looked at the sister of his closest friend's acquaintance, but he also abducted her. In my book, that's the ultimate betrayal." My brother's expression changed, though he masked it with a smile when he saw me.

Yusuf continued, "Imagine if I fell in love with Berfin and abducted her."

Silently, I said amen to myself. But then he shook his head and added, "It's not something that could happen. Even the thought is a betrayal. Berfin is to you what she is to me. She is no different from a sister in my eyes."

When I thought to myself, "May you be blind," he continued, "I know you think the same. Berdan is not the kind of man to look at my sister that way. I can see you see Rojda as your sister. So, our friendship, our camaraderie remains, don't worry..."

After placing the coffee on the table, I walked towards the kitchen. Behind me, my brother declared, "I have no intention of letting anyone have my sister, Yusuf. I won't give her to anyone." But the problem was, I had already fallen in love with the man sitting across from me.

The last words I heard were Yusuf agreeing with my brother, saying, "You're right. I wouldn't give up Rojda to anyone either." Angry, I went to the kitchen and placed the tray on the counter with a thud.

Dilan looked up from her phone. "What happened to make you angry again?"

"I'm like a sister to Yusuf, our leader. He wouldn't look at me that way. Damn it!" I exclaimed, sitting down angrily.

Dilan reached out and held my hand. "I know, sister. It's so hard to have unrequited love like this. Look at me—how am I any different? Doesn't Berdan also say he sees me as a sister?"

I asked Dilan, "But aren't you afraid of my brother falling for someone else, or even marrying someone else?"

Dilan's hands instantly turned cold. Her eyes slowly filled with tears. As a single tear rolled down her cheek, she squeezed my hands and said, "Come on, I just said to think about it. It's not like I said he's getting married tomorrow."

When Rojda entered the room, Dilan quickly wiped her tears with the back of her hand. "Welcome, Rojda," she said, pretending she hadn't been crying moments before.

"Thank you, Dilan. How are you?" Rojda asked.

I chimed in, "We're fine, but how are you? Just two days ago, you looked so down. Today, you seem so happy."

Dilan followed up, "Yes, what's up with you? Did you make up with that secret lover of yours?"

"Yes, we made up. He won me over. He should be grateful I'm so in love with him, or else I would have made him suffer more," Rojda replied.

We both turned at the sound of a voice asking, "Who were you going to make suffer?" It was Yusuf, leaning his shoulder against the door, his head tilted slightly to the left, hands clasped in front of him. He wore a navy blue t-shirt and loose gray sweatpants—an unusually casual outfit for him, but he was relaxed in our house.

Rojda quickly recovered, saying, "Come on, who else could it be but you? I was saying if you don't buy me the car I want, I'll make you suffer."

Dilan and I exchanged glances in shock. This girl could spin lies with remarkable ease. When Yusuf approached and said, "As long as you listen to me, I'll get you anything, my dear sister," I watched them with a smile—though, in truth, I was mostly watching Yusuf.

When Yusuf's phone rang, he answered and started to leave the kitchen. Just as he was about to exit, Rojda said, "Say hi to Auntie Berivan for me, brother."

Those words kept repeating in my head. As far as I knew, they didn't have an aunt named Berivan. The question I was afraid to ask, Dilan asked after Yusuf nodded to Rojda. "Who is Berivan?" she inquired, and I silently prayed, "God, please don't let this be what I think it is."

Rojda said, "You guys didn't know? She's my brother's girlfriend." At that moment, it felt like the sky and earth had merged, with me trapped between them. My hand went to my heart. Noticing my reaction, Dilan held my other hand under the table.

Rojda, seemingly unaware of my turmoil, continued talking. I listened as she spoke about the woman loved by the man I loved.

"Oh, if you could see them, they look so good together. My brother loves her so much; he doesn't refuse her anything." I clenched my hand into a fist under the table, digging my nails into my palm. When Rojda mentioned, "They are thinking of getting engaged in a few months, followed by a wedding," I quickly pushed back my chair and stood up.

Without a word, I went outside and entered the bathroom, locking the door. I sat down right by the door, my silent sobs filling the small space. "Why, oh why," I whispered, "why doesn't he love me like I love him, but loves someone else instead? The dreams I had with him, he'll share with someone else. How can I bear this pain, oh God..."

At that time, I felt like my soul was being severed. Now, I was experiencing the same thing again. The man in front of me was about to belong to someone else, to become another woman's husband. The day I learned he loved someone else, I had buried my dreams of marrying him in a pit and set them on fire. I left that pit open, in case he ever noticed me, so I could burn him there alongside my dreams.

When the wedding officiant asked, "Do you, Berivan Göktepe, daughter of Mustafa and Ayşe, take Yusuf Ali Haznedar, son of Mehmet and Dicle, as your husband without any pressure or threat?" Berivan shouted, "Yes...," My heart clenched once more. This time it was different. I felt like I was going to die.

The officiant, who had asked Yusuf the same question, was waiting for the answer that would be the cause of my death.

Just as Yusuf was about to say "I do-..."

A man, breathless, came to the front of the wedding table. "Stop," he said. "Mehmet chief, Yusuf chief. They ran away."

Yusuf jumped up and went to the man. His father immediately joined him, asking, "Who ran away, Cemil? What are you saying?"

The man, struggling to catch his breath, repeated, "They ran away."

Yusuf grabbed the man's collar in anger. "What could be so urgent to interrupt my wedding? Who ran away?"

With a trembling voice, the man said, "Your sister Rojda has run away with Berdan chief." Taking another breath, he pointed to our table and added, "She ran away with Berdan Xozan, Yusuf's chief."

And suddenly, all eyes turned to our table.