A TALE OF BERDEL

CHAPTER 6: The Wedding Day

ONE WEEK LATER

I stood in front of the mirror in my wedding dress. The gown was simple with a long veil, tulle sleeves reaching my wrists, and a slight neckline. My hair was gathered at the front, the rest cascading down to my waist. My mother approached me.

"You look so beautiful, my dear," she said.

I held her hand, struggling not to cry. I had spent a full hour on my makeup—red lipstick, peach-toned blush, and matching eyeshadow. My mother's eyes were filled with tears. When the door opened, we both looked towards it. My mother-in-law and sisters-in-law entered, all smiling.

Rojin came up to me. "You look so beautiful, sister-in-law," she said, and I felt a pang of excitement in my stomach. They were calling me sister-in-law now. Yusuf's mother wanted me to call her mother—all of this had happened within the week, yet Yusuf hadn't even come when we went to look for wedding dresses. He had left me alone. He didn't see or hear me. He didn't question my love. He didn't care about me. The few times I saw him after that day, all he did was look at me with hatred and anger.

Mrs. Dicle approached me, held my hand, and said, "From today on, you will be my daughter. Today, you will become a Haznedar. From now on, no one can interfere with you, and no one can oppress you. I won't allow it, my dear." She was referring to the slap Mrs. Avşin had given. I felt its sting on my cheek for a moment.

Moving next to my mother, she said, "From now on, your daughter is entrusted to me, Jiyan. Rest assured, my sister." They hugged each other.

My mother said, "I trust only you in that house, Dicle. I know you won't let my daughter get hurt."

Rozerin chimed in, "Oh... you're going to make the bride cry, but that's not right." Rozerin was very different from the others. She wanted to study in Istanbul. She always said she wanted to embrace modern life. I hoped her wishes would come true.

At that moment, there was a knock on the door. My mother said, "Your son has surprisingly come, Dicle. I didn't think he would even come to his wedding. After all, he didn't come anywhere. He only came to look at a ring." I could see the embarrassment in Dicle's mother's eyes.

The door knocked once more. "Come in, my son," said Dicle's mother and everyone was surprised when my brother entered.

His eyes met mine. "If you'll allow me, I have things to discuss with my sister and mother," he said, his eyes pleading with mine to talk. We hadn't spoken since he eloped with Rojda. Neither had he come to me, nor had I gone to him.

When I nodded to my mother, everyone left the room. After the door closed, we just looked at each other.

He took a step forward. "Sister, I..." he began, then stopped. There was nothing more to say.

He took a few more steps, leaving a small distance between us. His eyes welled with tears—the same eyes that had once dried mine. He closed them tightly.

"I'm sorry," he said, closing the distance between us. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." He pulled me into a hug. I knew he was crying. The man who had promised never to let me go had made me pay for his own mistake.

I didn't return his embrace. He knew this. He pulled back and cupped my face with his hands.

"I didn't want it to be like this. I swear I didn't want it to be like this." His words meant nothing to me.

I stepped back and pulled away from his hands. He wiped a tear from his cheek.

"At least let me tie the red sash. Let me have that. I've always dreamed of this," he said.

With a pained smile, I replied, "You lost that chance," and turned my back, silently telling him to go.

As tears ran down my face, he said, "Even if you forgive me, I won't forgive myself, sister," and walked out.

When the door closed, I sat on the couch, taking deep breaths. My mother and the others came in, trying to console me. What were they consoling me for? What was done was done, but it didn't mean I would forgive my brother. Moreover, because of Rojda's message, Yusuf had found out the truth, and someone had seen that message.

After a few minutes, I found myself alone in the room. Before leaving, my mother had said, "Yusuf will come soon, and you'll go down together, my beautiful girl."

My heart was pounding with excitement, my hands shaking. We were getting married—one way or another, we would be husband and wife. As the door opened, my heart began to race. I was terrified he would hear its accelerating rhythm.

He watched me from the doorway without stepping inside. His angry gaze pierced my soul as he hissed, "This is the last stop before your hell. Are you ready to meet the real me, Berfin Xozan?"

Even though my heart felt like it shattered into a thousand pieces, I didn't let it show. I started walking towards him. When I stopped right in front of him, I said, "In that hell, both of us will burn, Yusuf Haznedar."

He was surprised by my words, not expecting such a response. He suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me close.

"I'll burn you in that hell, not even your ashes will remain, Xozan," he growled.

I swallowed hard. He let go of my arm, turned around, and left me standing there.

I straightened my shoulders with resolve and followed him. When I nearly ran to catch up, he gave me a sideways glance. At the top of the stairs, he offered his arm and said, "Let's take our first step into hell then, Xozan."

I took his arm, and we descended the stairs. Everyone was cheering and clapping. Some ululated. The rising chants of "Ki zawa... ki zawa... Yusuf zawa" echoed through the room, blending with the music.

We stopped in front of the wedding table. After Yusuf sat down, I took the chair to his right. With the marriage officer's arrival, my heart raced even faster. The officer greeted us with a nod and took his seat. Before us, the Haznedar and Xozan families had gathered; some taking photos, some recording videos, and others watching intently.

I looked at Yusuf, then at the two large tribes before me. Had we not accepted the bride price, these powerful families would have become enemies. Of course, there were still those unhappy with the situation, but they couldn't oppose the decision.

As the marriage officer posed that fateful question, my eyes found my father. I knew he was suffering inside, but I believed he had made the right decision.

"Do you, Berfin Xozan, daughter of Agir and Jiyan, accept to marry Yusuf Ali Haznedar, son of Mehmet and Dicle, without any pressure?"

The question made my heart leap and took my breath away. I took a deep breath, turned my gaze to Yusuf, smiled slightly, and said "Yes!" loudly.

Just weeks ago, he had sat at this wedding table with someone else, and now he was here with me. The same question was asked to Yusuf. He turned his anger-filled gaze to me and with a dangerous smile said, "Yes." There was no excitement in his voice. I wasn't expecting any, but all I could feel was hatred.

The signatures were made, and the gift-giving ceremony began. More gold was pinned on me than I weighed. Everyone had given something according to their means. My brother and Rojda hadn't come to the wedding. He had realized I wouldn't forgive him when I didn't let him tie the sash. I wondered what he would do when he learned that Rojda had ensured my marriage to Yusuf.

As I pondered these things, the gift-giving ceremony ended. I felt like saying, "With all this money, why don't you give it to the poor?" It was almost evening. My feet were starting to ache.

Yusuf had withdrawn to a corner with his friends. He was smoking. No one should smoke so beautifully.

After hours had passed, the wedding finally ended. Mother Dicle led me to the room where I would stay with Yusuf. She sat me on the bed and then sat beside me.

"You know what you need to do, right, my girl?" she asked, placing her hand on mine.

I nodded gently, feeling embarrassed.

She got up and went to the wardrobe. She took out a white nightgown and laid it on the bed, making me blush with shame. Seeing my embarrassment, she held my chin, lifted my head, and said, "Don't be shy, my beautiful girl. You are now his wife; he can't see you as a sister. Just make sure you don't hurt each other." She kissed me on the head. It would be madness not to love a mother-in-law like her.

After she left, I approached the nightgown with trembling hands. It was very beautiful—a short piece with lace embroidery, leaving the back bare.

While I waited for Yusuf in the room, wearing the nightgown, he was preparing to bring Berivan to the mansion. His close friend Cüneyt was taking Berivan from her home to Yusuf. Berivan, sitting in the car, loved Yusuf so much that she had agreed to become his second wife. She had secretly escaped from home. She was going to him, and they would have their religious marriage ceremony. After that, they would go to the Haznedar mansion. Berivan was unaware of my love for Yusuf, so she thought I wouldn't be upset about the situation.

The car's sudden braking jolted her forward, pulling her from her thoughts. Cüneyt, at the wheel, angrily looked out the window and shouted, "What's going on, man!"

Two cars had blocked their path, and over ten men were outside staring at them. The leading man stepped forward. Cüneyt got out of the car, shouting, "What's this about, man!"

The men opposite pointed their guns at Cüneyt. Berivan gasped, bringing her hand to her mouth. Who was this man, and what did he want? As these questions swirled in her mind, the imposing man in front gestured to his men—not at the car, but at her.

Three men approached the car. As Cüneyt tried to intervene, the other men stopped him. With a gun pressed to his head, he was forced to kneel.

"What you're doing... this won't go unpunished. Stop," Cüneyt said from his knees.

The man laughed at his friend's words. "Your dear friend made that mistake? I'm not responsible for what happens next, Cüneyt." He turned his gaze to the car where Berivan sat.

"Take the girl," he told his men. The man who grabbed her arm quickly pulled her from the car. Though she pleaded and shouted, "Let me go... let me go," the two men holding her didn't release their grip.

Cüneyt made one last plea, almost begging, "Let the girl go; the tribes will clash, don't do it."

The indifferent man said, "Tell your friend if he harms Berfin, I will." Then he looked at Berivan and added, "I won't just hurt you; I'll tear your soul from your body!"

She saw the ruthlessness in his eyes. As his men forced her into the car, she turned to him and pleaded, "Please let me go... I haven't done anything wrong to you... please let me go."

He furrowed his brows. When the men put her in the car, she began to cry, "Cüneyt, help... do something, please."

Looking through the rear window, she saw Cüneyt's gaze filled with anger as if saying, "This is not good at all."

She turned to the man sitting next to her. "Who are you? What do you want from me?"

As he looked into her eyes, he leaned closer. "I'm the person you'll see every morning when you wake up from now on."

She swallowed hard. "Wha-... what do you mean by that?"

"I'm saying that every morning, the first face you'll see will be mine, my blue-eyed wife," he replied, then frowned and turned away.

She was too shocked to say anything. She didn't even know who this man was. But she was sure he wasn't joking.

That evening, this news would hit the Haznedar mansion like a bomb, causing chaos. On one side was Berfin, waiting in her room for her husband, completely unaware. On the other side was Yusuf, waiting to make the woman he loved his wife.

Boran Xozan, who was about to disrupt the entire plan by abducting the co-wife for the woman he loved, was unaware of the challenging days awaiting him.

God rewrote destiny.

Destiny dealt its cards.

And so the game of destiny began.

May God help them all.