GHOST LOVER

Unwanted Guests

The day after Selin returned to the apartment, word spread quickly through her social circle. Worried friends, concerned family members—everyone wanted to check on her. And while Selin tried to keep them at bay, two people managed to break through: Melis and Pelin.

“We’re coming up, whether you like it or not,” Melis had said firmly over the phone. And true to her word, an hour later, the doorbell rang.

Selin opened the door. Her two best friends stood there, laden with bags of food. “We brought lunch,” Pelin announced, not waiting for permission as she walked in. “And we’re not leaving until we’re sure you’re okay.”

The three of them sat in the living room. Melis arranged the food on the coffee table while Pelin busied herself making tea in the kitchen. Everything seemed normal. Almost.

But Selin felt it—that coolness in the air, that watchful presence. Murat was there, standing in the corner of the room, arms crossed, observing these intruders with an expression that wasn’t quite welcoming.

“So,” Melis began as she settled onto the couch, “how are you really doing?”

“I’m fine,” Selin replied. Her voice came out more confidently than she’d expected.

“Fine?” Pelin emerged from the kitchen, eyebrow raised. “Selin, you haven’t left this apartment in days. Your phone goes straight to voicemail. Your mother calls us every morning in tears. This isn’t ‘fine.’”

Selin took a breath. “I needed to be here. This is where Murat and I—” She paused. “This is where I feel closest to him.”

Melis reached out and took Selin’s hand. “We understand. But you can’t stay locked up here forever. You need to start living again.”

At that moment, something happened. The coffee cup Melis had placed on the table—the one Selin knew had been Murat’s favorite—began to move. Not violently, but slowly, deliberately, as if pushed by an invisible force. It slid across the smooth surface and teetered on the edge.

All three women froze.

“Did you see that?” Pelin whispered, her face pale.

The cup paused at the table’s edge, as if deciding whether to fall. Then, just as slowly, it slid back to its original position.

“Okay,” Melis said, standing abruptly. “Did we all just see that? Tell me we all just saw that.”

Selin felt the cold-hot sensation wash over her again. Murat’s breath, his feeling, his presence—right there beside her. She looked at the corner where she sensed him standing.

“See what?” she asked, feigning ignorance.

“The cup, Selin! The cup just moved by itself!” Pelin’s voice rose with panic.

“Maybe it was just—” Selin began.

“Just what? An earthquake? We all saw it, Selin. That wasn’t normal.”

But Selin knew it was normal. At least, it was her new normal. Murat was here, and he was making his presence known. Whether to protect her or warn them, she wasn’t sure. But she felt a strange sense of pride. He was still here. Still with her.

“I think,” Selin said calmly, standing up, “maybe you two should go.”

Melis and Pelin exchanged worried glances. They gathered their things quickly, neither wanting to stay any longer in the apartment where cups moved on their own.

At the door, Melis turned back. “Selin, I don’t know what’s happening here, but please… promise us you’ll be careful.”

“I promise,” Selin said. But the smile on her face said something else entirely.

After they left, Selin returned to the living room. The apartment was quiet again, but that warm-cold presence remained.

“Did you see my ghost lover?” she said to the empty room, breathless. “Did you see how I showed you to them?”

And somewhere in the silence, she heard it—soft, almost imperceptible, but there: Murat’s laughter.

That night, Selin realized something profound. She wasn’t alone. She would never be alone again. Death had taken Murat’s body, but it couldn’t take him from her. Not really. Not when love was stronger than any grave, any ending.

And so, in that apartment filled with the scent of coffee and cologne, with cups that moved on their own and temperatures that dropped without reason, Selin and Murat began their new life together.

A life that defied death itself. ## Chapter 6: Unwanted Guests (continued from previous)

The air inside the apartment had completely disconnected from the gray, noisy Istanbul beyond. For Selin, time was no longer measured in hours but in the peace she felt beside Murat. Every corner of the house had been cleansed of two months’ dust and revived with Murat’s presence. In the kitchen, Selin hummed a tune while preparing breakfast for two. She placed an omelet on one plate and carefully arranged Murat’s favorite cream cheese on the other.

“Murat, you’re lost in the newspaper again,” she called toward the living room. “Your breakfast is getting cold. Come on!”

Murat appeared in the kitchen doorway, leaning against the frame in that gray cardigan of his, watching Selin with that familiar, slightly teasing tone in his voice. “I still find it strange that you make food for me, Selin. You know I don’t get hungry anymore. I just enjoy watching you fuss about.”

Selin set down her fork and turned to face him, her eyebrows drawing together in that signature stormy expression of hers. “So what! There’s order in this house, Murat. Just because you became a ghost doesn’t mean I’m abandoning that order. Besides, you have your pride, and I have my stubbornness. That cheese on that plate is getting finished!”