The Third Person at the Table of Betrayal
729 Words
Selin’s request for space didn’t last long. By evening, she was back in her apartment, and Murat’s presence was unavoidable. The apartment was small; there was only so much distance they could maintain.
“This is harder than I thought,” Selin admitted, sitting at the kitchen table.
“Space usually is. Especially in a one-bedroom apartment.”
Despite everything, she smiled. “I thought you were giving me space.”
“I’m trying. Apparently I’m not very good at it.”
They fell into silence. Selin made tea—two cups out of habit, though only one would be drunk. The ritual was comforting even in its impossibility.
“Can I ask you something?” Murat said.
“Depends on the question.”
“Do you think you could ever be with someone else? Someone alive?”
Selin didn’t answer immediately. It was a question she’d avoided thinking about. “Honestly? I don’t know. Right now, the idea feels impossible. But forever is a long time.”
“That’s fair.”
“Would you be okay with it? If I did?”
“No. But I’d understand it.”
“At least you’re honest.”
“That’s all I can offer you now. Honesty and… whatever this is.” He gestured vaguely at his ethereal existence.
Selin sipped her tea. “What if we’re both wrong? What if this isn’t love or delusion but something else entirely? What if we’re just two people so afraid of letting go that we’ve created this elaborate fantasy?”
“Is it a fantasy if it feels this real?”
“That’s the definition of a good fantasy, Murat. It feels real until it doesn’t.”
They were going in circles, as they often did these days. Every conversation ending where it started: nowhere.
A knock at the door broke the cycle. Selin wasn’t expecting anyone.
Through the peephole, she saw Kerem.
“Don’t answer it,” Murat said immediately.
But Selin did. Because maybe, just maybe, engaging with the living world would help her figure out which reality she actually belonged to.
“Hey,” Kerem said, looking apologetic. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to see.”
“You’re right about that.”
“I deserved that. Selin, I’m sorry. For calling Dr. Levent, for overstepping. I was worried, but that doesn’t excuse it.”
Selin leaned against the doorframe. Behind her, she felt Murat’s presence growing colder, more intense. “Why are you here, Kerem?”
“Because despite everything, I care about you. And I wanted to make sure you’re okay. Really okay.”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you?” His eyes searched hers. “Because I hear you’re on medication now. And I can’t help but feel responsible.”
“You are responsible. But it’s also not about you. This is about me figuring out my own path.”
“With Murat?”
The question hung in the air. Selin could lie, could play the “I’m getting better” game she played with everyone else. Or she could be honest.
“Yes,” she said simply. “With Murat.”
Kerem’s expression shifted—disappointment mixed with concern. “Selin—”
“I know how it sounds. I know everyone thinks I’m crazy. Maybe I am. But this is my choice, my life, my madness if that’s what it is.”
“And if I asked you to choose differently? To choose… something real?”
“You mean you?”
“Maybe. If you’d be willing to try.”
It was the most direct Kerem had ever been. And in another life, another reality, Selin might have said yes. But not in this one.
“I can’t, Kerem. Not now. Maybe not ever. I’m sorry.”
He nodded slowly, accepting what he probably already knew. “Then I hope you find whatever you’re looking for. Even if I don’t understand it.”
After he left, Selin closed the door and leaned against it.
“That was brave,” Murat said.
“That was stupid. I just turned down a real relationship for a ghost.”
“Do you regret it?”
“Ask me again in ten years.”
But the truth was, she didn’t regret it. Not yet. And maybe that said everything about where she really stood.
- Writer
