Chapter Thirteen:- The Wedding Day
674 Words
The wedding was everything it was meant to be.
Crystal chandeliers glowed above carefully arranged tables. Soft music floated through the hall, elegant enough not to offend, emotional enough to feel sincere. Familiar powerful names filled the guest list politicians, investors, families whose histories were older than their smiles.
Happiness had been planned.
And executed perfectly.
Aylin stood slightly apart from the crowd, her pale blue dress blending into the décor like she was part of the design rather than a person within it,
She watched Nihan walk down the aisle radiant, trembling, real and felt a quiet warmth settle in her chest.
She was happy for her.
Truly.
Yet something about the room felt distant. Like she was watching life through glass.
When the vows ended and applause erupted, Murat turned mid-laughter and gestured toward a man standing beside him.
“Aylin,” he called, voice cutting through the music, “come here.”
She approached, weaving through guests.
“This is Kerem Alkan,” Murat said. “We studied together abroad. He’s in Bursa now.”
Kerem looked nothing like the men she was used to being introduced to.
No rehearsed charm.
No polished distance.
Just presence.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said, smiling not politely, not strategically. Just curious.
Aylin met his gaze. Calm. Steady.
“I hope nothing bad,” she replied.
“Quite the opposite,” he said. “But I’m beginning to think people exaggerate.”
She raised an eyebrow slightly. “That’s a dangerous thing to say at a Demirsoy wedding.”
He laughed softly. “Then I’ll keep my opinions quiet.”
---
Across the room, Baran Yalçın watched them.
He stood with his parents, flawless in his tailored suit, playing the role everyone expected of him. When he finally approached Aylin, his smile was respectful, controlled familiar.
“You look beautiful,” he said gently.
“Thank you,” Aylin replied.
“I heard you declined my mother’s invitation again,” he added quietly.
She didn’t apologize. “I didn’t want to mislead you.”
Baran nodded slowly. “You never have. That’s the problem.”
Kerem, sensing the shift, politely excused himself.
Baran looked at Aylin, voice low.
“I won’t pressure you,” he said. “But I won’t pretend I’m not waiting either.”
Aylin met his eyes. “Waiting for something that doesn’t exist will only hurt you.”
Baran smiled faintly. “Some people prefer pain over uncertainty.”
Then he stepped back into the crowd.
---
Kerem returned later, carrying two glasses of water.
“You look like someone who just escaped an interview,” he said lightly, handing her one.
She smiled. “Something like that.”
They sat near each other during dinner.
He didn’t flirt.
Didn’t push.
Didn’t perform.
He asked about her work. Listened when she spoke. Remembered details.
“You don’t seem to enjoy weddings,” he said quietly.
“I enjoy people,” Aylin answered. “Not performances.”
He considered that. “Then this must be exhausting for you.”
“It is.”
“Yet you’re still here.”
She looked around. “Some roles are harder to quit.”
Kerem smiled gently. “I’m very bad at roles. That’s probably why I left Istanbul.”
“For Bursa?” she asked.
“For breathing,” he replied.
She laughed softly, unexpectedly.
---
By the end of the night, Aylin felt it.
Not attraction.
Not temptation.
Just attention that wasn’t demanding, wasn’t urgent.
Observant. Respectful. Quiet.
Nihan noticed.
“So,” she said later, leaning close, “Kerem seems… interested.”
Aylin shrugged. “He’s Murat’s friend.”
Nihan smiled knowingly. “For now.”
Aylin didn’t argue.
Her phone buzzed.
Emre: Miss you.
She replied instantly.
Me too.
She slipped the phone back into her bag and returned to the hall where Baran waited with patience, Kerem with curiosity, and her family with expectations she didn’t yet know how to escape.
And still…
Life went on.
- Writer
