Cold Shower in the Garden
592 Words
After dinner, everyone moved to the mansion’s famous, sculpture-adorned vast garden. Kerem, trying to hide the disappointment from the “I haven’t returned anywhere” response he’d received inside, approached Selin.
“Selin, I admire your honesty but… wasn’t that a bit harsh? I just want to be there for you,” Kerem said, leaning slightly toward Selin.
Murat, perched on the marble fountain beside them, was sizing up Kerem. “Harsh? You haven’t seen harsh yet, tiger. Selin, watch how I veto this guy’s ‘candidacy’ now!”
Just as Kerem moved closer to Selin, the fountain beside them suddenly erupted with force. Water shot up, drenching Kerem from head to toe in an icy spray.
“What the—!” Kerem jumped back, completely soaked.
The other guests rushed over. “What happened?” “Is the fountain broken?”
Selin bit her lip to keep from laughing. She could feel Murat’s satisfaction radiating like warmth—or in his case, cold.
“I’m so sorry, Kerem,” Gönül Hanım fussed. “The fountain’s been acting up lately. Let me get you a towel!”
As servants rushed around trying to help Kerem, Murat floated beside Selin. “Oops. My hand slipped. Well, my essence slipped. You know what I mean.”
“That was petty,” Selin whispered under her breath.
“That was necessary. He was getting too comfortable.”
“You’re impossible.”
“And yet here you are, defending me at dinner tables and hiding smiles when I sabotage fountains. Face it, Selin—you’re as impossible as I am.”
She couldn’t argue with that.
Kerem, now wrapped in towels and looking thoroughly miserable, caught Selin’s eye. For a moment, she almost felt bad. But then she remembered the presumption in his voice when he’d talked about her “new journey,” and the guilt faded.
“I should go check on him,” she said to the empty air beside her.
“Should you though?”
“It’s the polite thing to do.”
“Since when do you care about polite?”
“Since I have to live in this world, Murat. The world where fountain malfunctions are actually malfunctions, not jealous ghosts.”
A pause. Then: “Fair point. Go. Be polite. But remember who you’re coming home to.”
“Always,” she whispered.
Later, as the evening wound down and guests began to leave, Selin stood alone in the garden for a moment. The fountain had been “fixed”—or rather, Murat had stopped sabotaging it. The night was cool and clear, stars visible despite the city lights.
“You made your point,” she said quietly.
Murat’s presence wrapped around her like a cool breeze. “Did I? Because from where I’m standing—well, floating—everyone in there still thinks Kerem is your future.”
“Let them think what they want. I know the truth.”
“And what is the truth, Selin? Really?”
She turned to where she felt him strongest. “The truth is that I love you. Dead or alive, present or absent, possible or impossible. I love you. And no amount of family dinners or fountain incidents is going to change that.”
“Even when it makes everything harder?”
“Especially then.”
Silence. The kind that speaks louder than words.
“I don’t deserve you,” Murat finally said.
“Probably not. But you’re stuck with me anyway.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
- Writer
