Next Station

Chapter 16 - Continuation

The wheels of the car slid quietly over the wet leaves on the road.

The damp autumn air carried the scent of moist earth and crushed apples.

Maral, silent and still, leaned against the half-open window.

Her eyes saw the road,

But her mind was still trapped in the shadow of the old woman —

At the touch of her hands, in the weight of her words.

Kaan gripped the steering wheel tighter.

From the corner of his eye, he glanced at Maral now and then;

But he had no words to break the silence.

His mind was a stormy sea, churning with turbulent thoughts.

The old woman's words

Had been planted like bitter seeds deep inside him.

Beware of this love...

Turn away from this path...

Bright hearts are the easiest to set ablaze...

He exhaled slowly and deeply.

But calm did not come.

A moment later,

It was as if something inside him collapsed.

Without warning,

He jerked the steering wheel sharply.

The tires screeched softly on the wet leaves.

The car turned around and headed back.

Maral jolted and said in surprise:

"Kaan! What are you doing?"

Kaan, his voice hoarse, carrying a tremor of decision, said:

"I have to go back."

Maral, a note of worry in her voice, whispered:

"Go back where?"

Kaan, without taking his eyes off the road,

murmured:

"I have to see that old woman again...

I have to know where those words came from..."

Maral pressed her lips together.

She glanced outside.

The mist-shrouded trees, the empty road, the autumn silence.

Trying to make it seem unimportant, she said quietly:

"She was just a local woman, Kaan...

Old women always have their stories..."

But even she didn’t quite believe it.

Something inside her — that vague, heavy feeling — told another story.

They drove back slowly for several minutes.

The air had grown colder.

A thin mist had settled over the road.

They reached the same bend.

The place where the old woman's table,

The baskets of apples,

And that heavy gaze

Had been just minutes before.

But now...

There was nothing.

No table,

No baskets,

No sign of the old woman.

Only the wet road,

The motionless trees,

And a cold wind swirling dry leaves through the air.

Maral said quietly:

"She's gone..."

Kaan stopped the car.

For a few seconds, he just stared at the empty road in silence.

Maral, without knowing why, felt something heavier settle in her chest.

Something shapeless, nameless —

But more real than anything else.

The car started moving again.

Slowly, through the leaf-strewn road and a silence so thick even the wind dared not break it.

Maral, her heart heavy,

Stared out at the bare branches outside.

Kaan kept his eyes on the road —

But his mind was a thousand miles away,

Haunted by a voice still echoing in his ears:

"Beware of this love..."

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

A Meeting with Father at the Café After Months Apart

The evening air had turned cool and damp.

The soft glow of the local restaurant’s lights spilled onto the wet cobblestones,

Casting a flickering reflection,

Like memories that never truly fade.

Maral approached with slow, measured steps.

Her long beige coat swayed gently with each movement,

The crisp lines of her white-collared blouse underneath,

And her straight-cut trousers gliding silently with her pace.

Her flat leather shoes made a faint sound against the stone —

A slow, unassuming rhythm.

Her hair was pulled back simply and neatly —

No embellishments, yet full of a quiet grace and independence that effortlessly drew the eyes.

Her father sat at a wooden table near the window.

A half-cold coffee sat before him,

And his gaze fixed on Maral from the moment she entered,

It was heavy with silent anxiety.

Maral approached.

A brief, tired smile appeared on her lips as she said:

"Hi Dad... Have you been waiting a long time?"

Her father lifted his head.

His eyes, filled with a mixture of pride and sorrow, rested on his daughter.

How much older, stronger, and more distant she had become...

He answered with a faint smile:

"No, my girl... I just got here."

Maral sat down without a word,

Placed her simple leather bag by her feet,

And arranged her hands quietly on the table.

A heavy silence settled between them.

After a pause, it seemed more like an internal struggle,

Her father finally spoke softly:

"Maral... there’s something I need to ask you plainly."

Maral slowly raised her gaze.

Her eyes, calm yet ready, waited.

Her father ran a hand over his forehead,

And with a voice that carried both tenderness and helplessness, he said:

"Is there... something between you and that man? Kaan?"

Maral froze where she sat.

A barely noticeable tremor flickered in her gaze.

Her father, as if now that he had found his voice he could no longer stop, continued:

"It’s true he found a job for Sinan...

True, he’s been supportive...

But, my daughter... that’s not enough."

He drew a deep breath and pressed on:

"You know? Just one simple search.

A few pictures came up.

Kaan... with different women.

At parties... by the sea...

Holding hands with that girl... Melisa."

The name Melisa

Pierced through Maral’s heart like a thin, sharp dagger.

She blinked.

Not out of surprise, but out of a futile attempt to hide the pain rising inside her.

Her father let out a heavy sigh.

He clasped his hands together on the table,

As if trying to keep the words from spilling out:

"Erfan told me.

I didn’t believe him.

I went and asked Sinan...

He confirmed it too."

A short silence fell between them.

Only the faint sound of rain tapping against the window filled the space.

Her father, his voice now thick with emotion, spoke more gently:

"Maral...

I don't want to force anything on you.

I just want you to know... some men are good to have as friends,

But not to give your heart to."

Maral, her throat tight and her gaze lost somewhere in the distance,

Slowly lowered her head.

All the words she might have said,

All the defenses she could have raised,

Remained tangled in her throat.

Behind her closed eyelids,

The image of Erfan appeared,

Then a blurred vision of Melisa and Kaan —

By the sea, laughing, carefree.

Maral pulled her coat tighter around herself and stepped out of the restaurant.

The soft sound of her shoes against the cobblestone street

Echoed like the restless beating of her heart.

Her steps were not hurried,

But each one felt heavier than the last,

As if shaking loose a piece of something deep inside her.

When she reached home,

She turned the key on the lock,

Opened the door, and stepped into the familiar darkness.

She didn’t turn on the ceiling light;

Only switched on the wall lamp on the couch.

A warm, dim glow spread across the room,

Making the shadows dance quietly on the walls.

She tossed her bag carelessly beside the couch,

Draped her coat over the armrest,

And without even removing her shoes,

Collapsed onto the sofa.

She ran her hands over her face.

She took a deep breath — more like swallowing a lump in her throat.

For a while, she just sat there;

silent,

Staring at some indeterminate point on the carpet.

She closed her eyes.

Leaned her head against the back of the couch.

And words began to echo in her mind,

Like the distant toll of a broken bell:

"Some men are good to have as friends,

But not to give your heart to."

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

In the quiet of the night,

Maral wondered:

What is going on?

Were the fates trying to send her a message?

First, that old apple-seller,

With her strange and elusive words —

And stranger still, the way she had vanished without a trace when they returned.

And now her father...

She had come to give a warning.

But why now?

Why was everything so tangled up?

Maral whispered to herself:

"What good is on the way...?

What is hidden behind these warnings...?"

Her phone was still in her hand.

Without thinking, she searched:

Kaan’s name...

A few pictures appeared —

Images that each planted a thousand unspoken words inside her heart.

She told herself:

"I have to forget.

I have to end this..."

Firm and resolute,

As if issuing an official command.

But her fingers trembled.

And something deep inside her whispered in a faint, quiet voice:

"But I can't..."

She stood up.

Paced aimlessly across the room.

As if her feet, like her thoughts, were lost and restless.

In the mirror at the corner of the room,

She saw a woman

Who, despite all her poise, all her reason and calm,

Was waging a silent war within herself.

She gently placed her hand over her chest;

Over the heart that was pounding more wildly than ever.

She whispered:

"This feeling shouldn’t exist...

I can't..."

And her voice was swallowed by the darkness.

But the heart,

It followed its own will.

She closed her eyes.

The image of Kaan — not from the photos —

But alive in her memory, it came to life:

The faint smile that hid a silent secret,

The gaze that spoke even through silence,

The hands that seemed to know how to lift the weight of the world.

Maral fought with herself,

But the feeling,

Like a cold wind,

Slipped through every closed window and door.

"A person can walk, work, smile —

But they can never command their heart not to tremble.

When a forbidden name

Echoes in the silence of their minds."

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

The next morning,

Maral had made her decision.

She carefully put on her hospital uniform,

Pulled her hair back simply and firmly,

And left the house with a face stripped of words and emotions.

Today was meant for only one thing: work.

Only patients,

Only medical files,

only surgeries.

No thoughts,

No feelings.

The hospital, as always, was full of noise and movement.

The emergency room was crowded.

Nurses bustled back and forth;

And the sound of constant paging swirled through the air.

Maral, with a determined expression,

Threw herself into the endless commotion.

She had to hide her heart somewhere, behind her white coat —

At least for today.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Maral was in the examination room,

Checking the condition of a child who had just returned from surgery.

The sharp scent of disinfectant filled the air.

Suddenly, her cellphone buzzed inside the pocket of her coat.

She glanced quickly at the screen.

For a brief second, her heart stopped.

"Kaan Tufan"

She froze.

It was as if the room, the sounds, the lights —

Everything had fallen into a heavy silence.

Only the faint sound of her phone vibrating,

Rising from deep within her pocket,

Reached her ears.

Her hand trembled.

She exhaled shakily.

Slowly, she pulled the phone out.

She stared at the screen for a few seconds,

As if by hesitating,

She could somehow save herself from what was coming.

But her hand moved on its own.

Her finger tapped the answer button.

Kaan's voice,

Deep and calm as ever,

Drifted through the line:

"Maral... hi. I hope I’m not bothering you?"

His voice was tired,

But something beneath the layers of his words was hidden —

a feeling that only Maral’s heart could understand.

Maral drew a short breath,

Trying to keep her voice steady:

"No... hi."

A short pause.

A pause that seemed to carry a thousand unspoken words.

Kaan said:

"If you're free...

I was hoping we could meet tonight,

By the seaside..."

Maral closed her eyes for just a moment.

Only a moment.

Inside her, two forces clashed:

Her heart, that wanted to scream "yes" —

And her mind, still whispering the voice of her father,

The warnings,

the fear.

She ran a hand over her forehead.

Took a deep breath.

And said, her voice barely above a whisper:

"I'm sorry... I have to work on an article tonight."

A short silence came from the other end.

Then, Kaan’s voice, softer, more accepting:

"I understand...

I hope everything goes well."

Maral forced a faint smile;

A smile that only she knew was tinged with deep bitterness.

She slowly lowered her phone.

Held her breath,

And for a long moment,

Stood there frozen.

"Sometimes the hardest 'no'

It is when the heart is screaming 'yes,'

But the lips choose only silence."

Despite her composed face and steady steps, something inside Maral was quietly starting to fracture.

Neither is the old woman’s cryptic warning on that autumn road,

Nor her father's heavy, worried words,

Were enough on their own to shake a woman like Maral —

But the words, like silent seeds, had been planted deep within her.

She, who had always made decisions in her mind,

Now she found her heart — without permission — whispering a different song in her ears.

Doubt, like a thin veil of mist, had begun from far away.

A subtle temptation that rose in the silent nights,

In the exhaustion of the hospital,

In the unguarded moments:

Was my judgment right?

Am I overlooking something?

Can I trust a man the world sees one way?

Just because I have seen something different in him?

Maral wasn’t afraid.

Not of love, either.

But she feared mistakes —

The kind that, in silence,

Could shatter the strongest foundations.

A silent question echoed now and then in her mind:

Perhaps the world always gives warnings,

But the heart only hears what it longs to hear...

And Maral, amid the chaos of work and the hush of hallways,

Amid patients and nurses,

With that calm smile and collected face,

She was silently at war with herself.

A battle has not yet begun —

But whose flames were already burning in the unseen darkness of her heart.