GHOST LOVER

Imaginary Rival and Real Torment

As the darkness of night descended upon the house, time had stopped for Murat. That single name falling from Selin’s lips had lodged in his translucent chest like a bullet: Can. Who was this man? Where had Selin met him? Was he really honest, or was Selin just making him up to torment Murat? As Murat paced back and forth within the salt circle, his mind produced horrific scenarios.

“Can…” Murat murmured, his voice spreading through the room like a snake’s hiss. “Honest, is he? Alive… Of course he’s alive, his blood is warm, he breathes. But he can’t know you like I do, Selin! No one can love you like I do!”

Selin lay in her bed, her fingers moving across her phone screen as if texting someone. She was actually just randomly typing letters into an empty notepad, but knowing Murat was watching, she’d arranged that slight, coquettish smile on her face.

“Don’t smile, Selin… Don’t smile at that phone!” Murat shouted. Desperately, he tried to step outside the salt circle, but each time his spirit recoiled as if pierced by thousands of needles. The barrier Selin hadn’t removed, placed there only to trap Murat, combined with Murat’s jealous fire had transformed into a real hell.

Selin slowly sat up, turned off the phone screen, and spoke to empty space. Her voice was soft, as if telling a fairy tale. “You know, Murat, Can is such a strange man. When you look into his eyes, he doesn’t even ask what storms are raging inside you. He just holds your hand and says ‘I’m here.’ He doesn’t hide secrets like you, doesn’t build other lives in hotel rooms. He’s just… honest.”

“You’re lying!” Murat screamed. “You’re doing this to drive me insane! There’s no such man, there can’t be! Just yesterday you were crying for me!”

Selin stood up and took a cardigan from her wardrobe. She walked toward the corner where Murat stood, stopping right in front of the salt circle. Murat looked at her hopefully—perhaps expecting a moment of mercy, perhaps a confession. But Selin’s eyes were like blocks of ice.

“Yesterday is over, Murat. Yesterday was buried in the ground with you. Can offers me tomorrow. Maybe this weekend we’ll go to that mountain cabin you loved so much, what do you think? The one we planned to visit together, but you said ‘I have work’ and met with Ceyda instead…”

Murat’s knees buckled, his ghost collapsed where he stood. Selin’s memory worked like an archive of revenge; every mistake Murat had made, every lie, was now being crowned with this imaginary “Can” character. As Murat imagined Selin with someone else in that mountain cabin, his translucent body seemed to fragment into pieces.

The next morning, Gönül Hanım had risen early, cheerfully preparing breakfast. When Selin entered the kitchen, her mother asked happily: “So, dear, how was last night? You must have had fun with Melis, you came home late.”

Selin, while looking at her mother, glanced out of the corner of her eye at Murat standing exhausted at the door. “It was wonderful, Mom. In fact… I met a new friend. His name is Can. Very gentlemanly, he’s in Melis’s group.”

Gönül Hanım’s eyes lit up. “Oh how lovely! Levent was nice too, but meeting new people is much healthier. Bring him over sometime, let’s meet him.”

Murat slammed his fist on the kitchen counter, but his hand passed through the marble. “Mom, don’t! You too? You don’t even know who this man is!”

Selin took her mother’s hand. “I’ll bring him, Mom, why not? Can really wants to try your famous börek anyway.”

Murat began spinning in the middle of the kitchen. “Börek? He’ll eat my börek? Sit at my table, with my wife… Selin, don’t do this to me! Wasn’t dying enough? When will this torment end?”

As Selin watched Murat’s thrashing, she felt that emptiness inside her slowly filling. What filled it wasn’t love, but that dark satisfaction that revenge brings. Each of Murat’s anguished cries seemed to repair a piece of Selin’s broken heart.

“Can will call me soon, Mom, I’ll go to my room,” Selin said and left the kitchen. Murat dragged behind her like a shadow. When Selin entered her room and closed the door, Murat remained outside. The salt wouldn’t let him in. Murat began clawing at the door. Though his invisible nails left no marks on the wood, the silent wail he produced enveloped the entire house.

Inside, Selin sat on her bed. She actually picked up her phone and called the number saved as “Can.” It was actually the pizza place number. She brought the phone to her ear and began speaking in a voice Murat could hear from behind the door.

“Hello, Can? Yes, I was thinking about you too. Tonight? That would be wonderful… Where shall we go? Anywhere you choose works for me. I trust your taste as much as your honesty…”

Behind the door, Murat was sobbing. Ghosts didn’t have tears, but Murat’s soul was soaked through. And Selin, listening to those sobs from behind the door, realized she was living the most ruthless but most satisfying moment of her life.