Chapter 7- Part II
"Isn't there a welcome?" he said. He wasn't angry either. Why wasn't he angry?
"Welcome," I said, feeling dazed. After taking off his shoes, Aslan put his arm around my waist and kissed my hair.
"Welcome, my wife," he said. He let go of my waist and went inside, and I followed him. He went straight to the living room and threw himself onto the sofa; I knew I'd gotten what I wanted. Aslan never sat down without washing his hands. He didn't show it, but he was definitely exhausted. Hiding the wicked smile on my face, I sat down next to him.
"How was your day, husband?" I asked. Aslan continued to act as if he couldn't tell anything.
I'm doing great, just a little out of shape , but it wasn't too hard," he said. He certainly wasn't trying to tarnish his masculinity, but would I fall for that? Never.
"Hmm, really? You don't look tired at all," I said, trying not to show my annoyance. Aslan was the kind of man who would immediately understand my playful attitude, but I wasn't really hiding it anyway. He had the same sparkle in his eyes. He snuggled closer to me in the armchair.
"Working for our home doesn't tire me," she said. When I moved closer, we were practically nose to nose.
"Of course he won't tire me, he's the pillar of my home," I said. The darkening of his gaze was exactly what I wanted. I loved affecting him.
"I'm saying, the pillar of this house is gone, he worked and earned the house's money," she said, looking at my lips at the same time. I was struggling to keep from laughing.
" So ?" I said with a slight smile. What path was he paving, I wonder ?
"I'm saying the lady of the house hasn't been idle either," he said. Now the gentleman's stomach ache was clear. That's how you end up in my hands. Without letting the smile I'd plastered on my face fade.
"Of course, my dear husband ..." "You'll be licking your palms ," I said, wiping the smile from my face and backing away. He could wait a long time. The lion clearly wasn't pleased with my withdrawal.
"You can't just keep approaching and then withdrawing like this," he said.
"I pulled back purely for your own good. You looked like you were about to kiss me at any moment. I'm a wife who respects her husband's decisions," I said. After all, she wanted it, didn't she?
"You won't stop until you get your revenge, will you?" he said. I shook my head no.
"I won't stop," I said. The lion smiled.
"There's just one thing you've forgotten, my dear wife," he said, and effortlessly lifted me up and sat me on his lap as if I were a doll. I didn't even have a chance to resist; I found myself right next to Aslan again. I mean, anyway... Somehow , I always ended up back at this point.
"It's not easy to bend the steel will I possess," he said. This time, it was me who focused my attention on his lips. How could Aslan's breath always smell so fresh?
"Luckily, my husband won't have much to do; this life you've thrown us into will shatter everything—steel, iron, concrete—it'll tear apart. Don't worry," I said. I would see him a few days later when the expenses started to pile up. Would there be any trace of his cheerfulness left when this game he'd set up no longer gave him any pleasure? Aslan's hands began to gently caress my waist. The scoundrel had started his tricks again.
"What if it doesn't turn out like you fear?" she said. A fake smile appeared on my face.
"This is what you don't understand; nothing I've said is something I've made up in my head, something I'm just speculating about. I learned it all through experience. That's how I know," I said.
"Tell me a little bit," he said. He wasn't being sarcastic anymore. His eyes were looking at me so deeply, as if he didn't want to miss a single word that might come out of my mouth. It was the first time he had looked at me like that, actually. He was genuinely curious about what I had to say, he wanted to hear it.
"What should I tell you?" I said, trying to buy time. I didn't want to tell him. Because in the end, I would be the bad girl. I didn't want Aslan to know what I had done, or how desperate I was. I was ashamed.
"I want to know about your life before we met. I want to know the girl who gave me painkillers at the cafe," he said. I didn't like the tension between us rising. So, I did what I always did. I put a smile on my face and...
"You're right, people usually meet first and then get married, but with us it was the other way around. Anyway, there's not much to tell anyway. You don't know anything more than what you already know," I said. This time, Aslan didn't go along with me.
"I don't know anything. Make me know. Tell me what's on your mind. Married people do that. They talk," she said. What happened to her all of a sudden? Where did this curiosity come from? Did I ever ask such things? I pretended to think for a moment.
"Since you want to talk, let me tell you what's on my mind right now," I said. I could see she was excited by what I said. She straightened up to listen.
"I only have today on my mind. Shall I tell you what I did today?" I said. She let out a deep breath, her shoulders slumped. It hadn't gone what she expected, but oh well. After a hysterical laugh, she composed herself and said in an energetic voice...
"Tell me, I'm listening," he said. He had accepted that I wouldn't tell him, but he still wanted to listen. Why did he want me to talk so much?
"Esra arrived first. That brute of a man, Selim, yelled at my friend. Anyway, we later found out he has a crush on Esra."
"How badly burned is he? Our Selim?" she said, disbelievingly. I nodded my head in affirmation.
"He really did kiss Esra right there and then," I said. Her eyebrows shot up.
"Look, Selim didn't show any emotion," she said.
"No, I already knew that," I said, shrugging.
"Could anything escape my sharp-witted wife?" he said, laughing. Was he kidding me? I punched him in the shoulder.
"You're kidding me, aren't you? I'm not telling you," I said sulkily. Did I really think he'd listen to me? All he wanted was to have some fun.
He brought the hand I had placed on his shoulder to his lips and kissed it.
"I enjoy laughing with you. Keep going," he said. He said it, but I just stared at the hand he'd kissed. He then rested my hand against his chest, still holding it. Anyway, pull yourself together, don't fall for it so quickly.
"Anyway, then I met our next-door neighbors," I said. It was good that I changed the subject. I'd lightened the mood.
"Did you like it?" he asked.
"Yes, I liked them, they're nice people. Though I think you know them," I said. I had thrown out a bait to see if she would mention Murat.
"I know them because of Murat. I don't know the other women. I stayed with Murat's family a lot in the past, and his mother had a great influence on me," she said.
"Does her mother know?" I asked. She hadn't given any indication of it, though.
"He doesn't know. It's a bit complicated. I haven't seen Murat for maybe more than ten years. So he can't know. Only Murat knows," he said.
"What do you mean? I'm confused now. If the woman knows you, she must also know who your father is, right?" I said. Aslan took a deep breath and averted his gaze. What was he hiding from me? He was about to say something when his brows furrowed.
"Wait a minute, why am I even telling you about my past? I can't get a word out of you. No, I'm not telling you," he said. My husband was a real sly fox. He was always looking for a way to escape.
"What happened? Just a moment ago you were saying something about married couples talking," I said. I could have pressed the issue a little further.
"I said I wanted to listen to you, but I guess your beautiful ears didn't hear that," he said. I shrugged indifferently.
"I've never heard of that place, anyway, husband, what was I saying?" I said. Now it was my turn to run away. After a short laugh...
"You were describing our neighbors, my dear wife, please continue," he said.
"Oh yes, anyway, they're good people. Although Aunt Aynur and I don't think we'll get along very well, but never mind. Their daughters are very nice though," I said. Her eyebrows furrowed.
"Did she say something to you? Why did you say that?" he asked. He had become so serious, as if he would go and confront the woman if I said yes.
"No, no, she didn't say anything to me. As I was leaving, I said Aslan would be here soon and I should go home. And then the woman said, 'Good girl, go ahead, your husband won't be angry with you.' I was furious. I said, 'Why would he be angry?' Apparently, men want their wives to be home before them."
"I should kiss that aunt's hands, she said it so beautifully," he said. I couldn't believe it. What nonsense was he spouting?
"What does that mean, excuse me?" I said, immediately becoming rude.
"Of course he's right. Look, you're not coming home after me, or I'll get angry. I'm a terrible husband," he said, frowning, but the nasty grin he couldn't suppress betrayed him. He was mocking me again, the jerk. He deserved another beating, so I slapped him on the arm with my free hand this time.
"Aslan!" I said. Aslan took my hand with his free hand, brought it to his lips, kissed it, then lowered it and continued to hold my hand. He was still smiling.
"Okay, okay, don't be angry. So, what did you say then?" she asked again with interest.
"I couldn't say anything. I thought it wouldn't be right to argue with a guest who came to visit someone else on the first day. Besides, her daughter understood what her mother had done and was embarrassed, so I didn't say anything."
"You did well. You can show your true face later," he said. He was getting nasty again.
"Don't be so sure you can hold my hands," I said, trying to pull my hands away from his, but he wouldn't let me. Was that why he was holding my hands?
"Okay, wife, don't be angry," he said, laughing.
"Anyway, their daughters are so sweet. They're around my age. That woman has a daughter named Tülay, I took a liking to her the most. She's married, but from what I understand, her marriage isn't very good. And she has another daughter, Aslan, you should see her, her name is Güneş, she's so sweet, and her hair is as blonde as mine. She shines like the sun, but she's a real witch; she beat up a kid from the neighborhood today," I said. I got carried away when I started talking about Güneş. Aslan listened to me without interrupting.
"He's both combative and shines like the sun. I feel like I know someone like that," she said. Had she said something good or bad?
"I'm not a confrontational person at all. I just give those who deserve it a response," I said defensively.
"That's right, that's why I chose you. I saw that such a spirited woman would protect me too," he said.
"It seems like you desperately need protection," I said. Her eyes welled up.
"Yes," he said, then brought my hands, which he was holding, behind my back and pulled me towards him. He let go of my hands when I felt like I was losing my balance. To keep from falling, I placed my hands on his shoulders. We weren't in a good position at all, especially with him looking at me so deeply and beautifully.
"I need your protection," she said. She wasn't joking or teasing. Her gaze suggested that this was truly what she wanted.
"I…" I didn't know what to say. I had married him to protect me. And now he wanted the same thing from me, who had nothing? His intense gaze softened when he saw my bewildered expression. He kissed my cheek.
"Okay," he said. It was as if he could read my mind, see all my hesitations in my eyes. By simply saying "okay," he had conveyed that he didn't want to pressure me.
"So, go on, who did Güneş beat up? I'm curious now," she said, returning to her former interested demeanor. I was completely flustered, one minute one way, the next the next. Anyway, I'll continue.
"A child asked the girl, 'Why are you always here?' and she slapped him in the mouth and then ran to her grandfather. Her grandfather warned her, 'If someone says something to you, hit them and then run to me,' but he fell while running and scraped his knee. His mother punished him for hitting him, and I said, 'If you hit someone like that, you'll get punished, of course. You have to beat the other person with your words, there's no punishment for that.'"
"Would you do it that way?" he said.
"I didn't have a grandfather to run to. When I beat his children, I'd also have to deal with their mothers. And on top of that, I'd get punished by the orphanage director. When you don't have anyone to run to, you learn to fight without having to run," I said, but then I immediately regretted it. I'd said it all in a moment of weakness. Why did I even say it? Aslan's hand on my waist tightened. His grip hardened, as if he wanted to make his presence known.
"I'm here now. You can hit whoever you want, then come running to me," he said. His words touched a raw wound inside me. It hurt. For years I had waited for a mother and father figure to come along, someone I could run to. Just when I had accepted that there was no one else and was starting to learn to live on my own, he stood before me saying, "I'm here." The worst part was that I was the only one suffering in the middle of the conflict between the part of me that desperately wanted to believe him, that needed to, and the part of me that couldn't believe him.
"Are you really in?" I asked again, unable to control myself. What was happening to me? Aslan's eyes lit up at my question. He seemed excited, as if I had taken the first step towards him. But it wasn't a step. I had simply asked without being able to stop myself, that's all.
"I'm in," he simply said. I know the firmness in his voice was as if he wanted to convince me, but I just couldn't. I couldn't believe him. I averted my gaze, not knowing what to say. This time he kissed me on the temple.
"That's fine too," he said. He stepped back, giving me space. He was pulling back so I could see him without him showing himself off and making me uncomfortable. Why had he suddenly become such a thoughtful man?
"Selim called, you forgot to tell me about him," she said, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere again. All my energy had drained away, but I didn't want to spoil the moment. It was the first time we'd talked for so long.
"How do you know that? Did he report it to you too?" I asked. Had he immediately told Aslan?
"No. He's not my boss anymore, he doesn't report to me. He called me before you and whined a lot. When he couldn't get a response from me, he thought, 'Let me call my sister-in-law and instigate her to convince you and save me.'" Look at that sneaky fox, she was trying to turn me against my husband too.
"Don't worry, I put him in his place," I said. His hands began to caress my waist again with feather-light touches.
"Hmm, really? What did you say?" he asked.
"I said, 'My husband knows best, don't bother trying, you can't fool me.'" A lie. It had never been like that, but oh well. Her eyebrows rose in surprise, and she smiled.
"Look at you, I never said I'd make that lion suffer terribly or anything like that," she said sarcastically. Was she listening in on the house conversation too?
"No way. Where did you get that idea? Would I ever say such a thing? Come on!" I said.
"Would you ever say that? Of course not," he said. Their teasing never stopped, though. And today, my husband's cheerfulness seemed endless. It was as if I had been working all those hours. I stood upright in his lap and slipped out of his arms.
"Okay, that's enough fun, you've had enough," I said, throwing myself onto the couch.
"Where are you going? We were talking here, come back," he said, and as he reached to grab me, I stepped back a little more.
"Aren't you tired, Aslan? It's not like I've been working all those hours," I said.
"I was resting," he said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Was that really resting?
"Go take a shower, wash yourself clean. You're still covered in the filth from outside, and now you've dragged me down with you," I said with feigned anger.
"Okay, I'll get up and listen to my wife," he said. When he said that, I couldn't help but grin. But my cheerfulness vanished again when he clutched his back as he got up. There, I knew this would happen; his back must have been hurting.
"Your back hurts, doesn't it?" I said angrily, immediately removing his hand from her back.
"Where did you get that idea? I'm fine," he said. I'll believe your lies.
"Are you trying to fool me? I told you, didn't I?" I said.
"I'm fine, nothing's wrong. Have you eaten?" she said. How quickly she changed the subject when things didn't suit her. Anyway, she reaps what she sows, so what? Let her face the consequences.
"I'm full, I ate something while visiting," I said.
"So you're saying whatever my husband does, that's fine," she said, putting her hands in her pockets. I crossed my arms in front of me.
"I say, 'He who falls on his own doesn't cry.' Right now, you could be in your huge house, eating whatever you want from a thousand different kinds of food, but you chose this," I said. Since he was so curious about life, he should know that things wouldn't always be handed to him on a silver platter. He started to look me up and down with a cheeky grin.
"I'm happy with my choice," he said. Was our topic still home?
I'm not falling for the trick.
I'm not falling for the trick.
"Okay then, from now on you'll cook our meals, since you know I'm not very good in the kitchen," I said. That was a lie. I was a fantastic cook, but I wasn't going to cook for him and make his job easier.
"So you're trying to wear me down like this?" she said. I had to start somewhere, after all.
"What discouragement? These are facts. When have you ever seen me cook? Oh, and you're saying I can't..."
"I'll do it," she said, interrupting me. She hadn't hesitated at all. What did she mean, "I'll do it"? When had she ever cooked a meal before, that she was now saying so confidently? My eyebrows furrowed in suspicion. Was she bluffing?
"You can do it?" I didn't believe it at all, but I also didn't expect him to stand there so firm and confident, saying "I can do it" without any hesitation.
"You may not know me at all, but I know my wife. I can see through every sneaky plan you're plotting, my dear wife. I'm ready for it all. You can sit on this couch all day if you want, or you can go out and about. Do whatever you want. There's only one thing I ask of you," he said, then paused. Ah, but I knew there was something behind those understanding husbandly gestures. He never did anything for free.
"Just open the door when I get home," he said. Was that all? Was all he wanted me to do my door?
"Is that all?" I said. That couldn't be all he wanted, could it? Why would he want that? He calmly shook his head.
"That's all," he said. His gaze was clouded again. The more he looked at me like that, the more I began to wonder about his past, something I'd never wondered about before. I couldn't help it.
I really wanted to say no. I was actually going to say, "No, you have the key, open the door yourself," but instead...
"I think I can do that much," I said. I didn't want to see those shadows in her eyes any longer. If opening the door would dispel those shadows, I could do that much. And indeed, those shadows dispersed with my answer. She was happy with that little thing.
"Now that my wife has done her part for today, it's my turn," he said and left the room. Should I have mentioned that there was food? But I also wanted her to cook. Well, if she couldn't manage it, I'd just give it to her. Or maybe I wouldn't.
He couldn't even make toast. How was he going to cook? Had he ever had to cook a single day in his life? I could swear he had no knowledge of housework because once he'd even tried to dry-clean a simple t-shirt. With that level of knowledge, how could he possibly operate a washing machine? A man who couldn't even clear a plate at the table, how could he set the table and wash the dishes? Let's say he somehow managed it, how long could he keep it up? Marriage was a two-person affair. How far could one partner go bearing all the burden? How long could he tolerate a spouse who worked all day and then couldn't share any of the burdens because he wasn't happy being there? What if, while trying to make him leave, I ended up making him tired of me? Oh well, at worst we'd just go back to our old lives. I wouldn't object to that at all. I didn't need to confuse myself. Wearing Aslan down was the best plan I had for now.
The sounds coming from the kitchen indicated that Aslan had started his struggle. He'd already knocked things over within minutes. He was going to make a mess just to eat a meal. Anyway, I couldn't miss this. I got up and went to the kitchen. When I peeked through the door, Aslan was crouching, trying to put the knocked-over pots back in the cupboard, muttering to himself.
"Oh my god, I'm going to kill myself, are there really so many pots and pans? There are only two of us," I said, unable to stop laughing. My naive husband didn't even know what each pot was for. My smile made him shift his focus from the pots he was trying to cram everything into to me.
"Those pots and pans all have a purpose. I mean, it's really strange that a cook like you wouldn't know that," I said. Now it was my turn to tease, and I was going to use it. He'd had enough fun with me.
"You'd think this was a restaurant kitchen. Instead of standing there, come and help your husband," she said rudely. "Okay, my dear, I'll help you, just wait."
"No way. What happened? You were acting all high and mighty inside. All that 'I'll do everything' thing. You've cooled off quickly, I see," I said. He had finally managed to put the pots and pans away and stood up, clapping his hands together as if to shake them off.
"That's right. Look, I handled it. I was testing you. You failed." he said. Sure, sure, I'm sure that's true. Anyway, I won't spoil his enthusiasm now, let him continue.
"So, my husband, who's got everything going, what are we eating?" I asked as I went inside. I sat on the table in the corner. From here, I could watch his every move.
"Didn't you say you were full?" he said, his voice slightly serious.
"I'm full, but my husband came home from work and took the time to prepare this meal with his own hands. I can't not eat it now. Besides, I'm a little hungry," I said. When he realized I wasn't really hungry, his gaze softened. It was as if I had never gone to bed hungry before. He wasn't used to it, of course.
"We can't show all our skills now. Let's start with pasta," he said, turning back to the counter. After all, men didn't know anything beyond menemen (a Turkish egg dish) and pasta. Although, I'd only ever seen Aslan grilling, that's about it. So he'd probably mess up even with pasta.
"I think it's perfectly fine," I said. When Aslan went to the rice pot he'd taken out onto the counter and started adding water, I was absolutely certain. My husband was worse than zero in the kitchen.
"Are we just going to eat pasta?" I asked. Just plain pasta would quickly ruin my fun, and besides, Aslan couldn't eat without soup.
"Isn't that enough?" he said. He put the pot on the stove and lit the fire. When he turned to me...
"That's enough, of course, but how about we make some soup too… I mean, it would be good if you did," I said. Eating that pasta at this hour might give her a stomach ache.
"Is there a particular reason for this sudden craving for soup?" he asked. The bastard understood immediately. I could tell from the glint of amusement in his eyes.
"Nah." I said, shrugging. It was already his fault for thinking about it.
"So, can't I just do it because I want to?" I said, getting a little nasty. I needed to yell a little and get the upper hand. Because now it was my turn to tease.
"Since my wife is craving it, we'll have to do it," he said. He went to the cupboard, opened the door, and...
"What kind of soup would you like?" she asked. If I told her her favorite soup, she definitely wouldn't be able to make it, but then she'd immediately understand that I wanted something for her. I'll just order something simple so she won't understand.
"Yogurt might work," I said. I loved yogurt soup too. She wouldn't be able to make it, but oh well.
"You said yogurt," she said, sighing. She was still staring blankly in the cupboard. She definitely had no idea. She looked so cute right now that I wanted to bite her cheeks. Finally, she bent down and pulled out the yogurt container. This time, she took out the right pot from where the pots were, filled it with water, and put it on the stove. It was going well, but let's see when she would discover that she needed to add rice.
"You're quite distracted. Or do you not know how to make yogurt soup?" I said, teasing him. He immediately composed himself and gave a fake smile.
"Me? I'm telling you, there's nothing your husband can't do," she said puffed up. In a way, she was right; Aslan could do anything, but manly things. He was good at repairs, for example. Very good. I'd watch him as he focused on fixing things. It was strange, because at that moment he might just be drilling a hole in the wall or something, but he looked so sexy. Oh, maybe I should skip dinner and get him to fix something?
Anyway, girl, wait a minute, don't get your hopes up right away.
"Hmm, I understand. No, I'm saying it's nothing but yogurt and water," I said, feigning innocence.
"Anyway, my husband knows best. I'll be quiet, husband, continue," I said. He turned back to the counter and
"Yes, I know. Just don't confuse me," she said. As if she would make orange duck if I didn't talk.
After thinking for a while, he took the yogurt, threw it into a bowl he'd found with difficulty, and started whisking. He whisked for so long, as if he didn't know the next step and didn't want to finish this one. Then he realized whisking wasn't enough, so he went and added some water, for some reason. He whisked a little more like that. His attention was drawn to the sound coming from the pasta water. Seeing that the water was boiling, he poured the pasta in. It was clear we were going to eat unsalted pasta. When he added the pasta to the water, it was supposed to turn into soup, but it didn't seem to want to at all. I couldn't stand this state of his any longer and...
"If you're wondering where the flour is, that long cupboard is probably in the pantry, you can check there," I said. I was soft-hearted, what could I do? I couldn't bring myself to refuse.
"Yes, where's the flour? I was just thinking about that," he said, snapping his fingers as if he were actually thinking about it. He was trying not to show it. If I asked him to add starch, he would have done it without hesitation right now, but there was no need for that. It was food, after all, no games. Aslan went to where the cupboard was, took out the flour, and placed it on the counter, his gaze as if he were seeing flour for the first time. Now he had a bigger problem: how much of the huge jar of flour was he going to put in the soup? I watched what he would do, trying hard to suppress my laughter. If I laughed, he would pretend to start a fight and leave; I couldn't let him ruin my act. He took the spoon from the bowl he was using to whisk the yogurt, dipped it into the jar, and tried to put the flour into the yogurt. He tried because, naturally, the flour stuck to the wet spoon. He shook the spoon a few times, saw it wasn't working, got angry, threw the dirty spoon into the sink, and took out a new one. I mean, it was unbelievable; not thinking that flour would stick to a wet spoon was incredibly incompetent! He put flour in again with the new spoon. Four spoonfuls, in fact. At one point, I considered stopping, but after all, it was his dish. He must know something. He lifted the mixture, which had thickened and turned a little doughy while stirring, but immediately lowered his hand. He was trying to hide it from me, but to no avail. Besides, I didn't even need to see it. Four spoonfuls of flour in such a small soup? After stirring a little more, as if to say, "Let's just throw it in and get rid of it," he suddenly threw the yogurt mixture into the boiling water. Of course, the possibility of the soup becoming lumpy must have crossed my husband's mind, given his vast culinary knowledge.
"I think we're going to have a really nice meal. You really know how to cook," I said, breaking the silence. He had already put the food on the stove; he couldn't leave after making a fuss. He kept his hands on his belt, watching the soup he'd only stirred a little, as if it were something that might explode, when he heard my voice and feigned a puffed-out chest.
"What did you think? Your husband can do anything," she said. Sure, sure, exactly.
"Honestly, I'm embarrassed, my dear husband, yes," I said, struggling to suppress my laughter. After taking a deep breath, I feigned sadness.
"So I've been wrong about everything all along?" I said. His eyes, which had been fixed on the stove, turned to me.
"How?" he said.
"So, as far as I know, you add salt to pasta before putting it in the water. When making yogurt soup, you add a spoonful of flour and an egg to thicken it. Oh, and of course, you add some rice too, but I don't think we've gotten to that stage yet. And if I remember correctly, if you don't stir the soup constantly, it gets lumpy," I said, without changing my expression. Aslan looked at me, then at the soup-like thing that was now impossible to salvage. I couldn't help but laugh at his expression. Aslan looked at me with narrowed eyes as I laughed.
"That's hilarious," he said. And it really was hilarious. I'd been sitting here watching him pretend to be a cook for several minutes. When he realized the food wasn't going to be any good, he turned off the heat under both of them and came over to me.
"Didn't you say you didn't know how to cook?" she said, standing in front of me. I suppressed a smile and shrugged.
"You were so enthusiastic, I didn't want to spoil it," I said. She nodded her head as if to say, "Of course."
"What a thoughtful wife I have," he said, spreading my legs apart with his hands and stepping between them. Now my smile had vanished. As he leaned close to me, stroking my thighs with his hands, my playful expression had completely disappeared.
"He's a bit of a trickster, though," he said in a hushed voice. He was trying to impress me. I knew that tone well. I brought my hands to the collar of his shirt, pretending to adjust it.
"I was trying to tell you it wouldn't be easy," I said. She chuckled half-heartedly at my words.
"So you're saying you'll keep going until I'm fed up," she said. Oh, why was my husband so handsome? Especially when he gets so close to me, staring deep into my eyes, just to impress me.
"Exactly," I said, moving a little closer to him. Then I immediately pulled back. After all, he wasn't the only one with the power to influence me, was he? He slid his hands a little further down towards my hips.
"Do whatever you want. Burn this house down if you want. I'll lay every single stone myself from scratch. You still won't tire me out," he said in a firm voice. I was just having a good time teasing him a moment ago, and now he had the upper hand again.
"Okay, we'll have to figure out another way to solve the problem of the meal, but at least I've fulfilled another husbandly duty. You still haven't made a sound," he said. Could he really count this disastrous meal? I laughed sarcastically again.
"What was that task you supposedly fulfilled? I'm not counting it," I said. If he was expecting respect for my efforts, he'd be waiting a long time.
"It's not about the food. It's about your smile. One of a husband's most important duties is to make his wife laugh. Look, you're grinning from ear to ear," he said. I couldn't help but laugh again at his analogy. So that was one of the duties he'd assigned me.
So now it was his job to make me happy.
A warmth involuntarily spread through me. Was my happiness really as important to him as a duty? I remembered my conversation with Selim that morning. Perhaps, after what he said that day, he really did want to change things? It's possible--
It couldn't be.
Everything he had said kept replaying in my mind. Whenever I felt even slightly close to him, I remembered his devastating words. Those words dragged me down, preventing me from getting closer to him.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I wanted to pull away from his arms, but I didn't want to reveal what I was thinking. My gaze shifted for a moment, but I quickly composed myself. However, if I looked at Aslan's face, he had immediately caught that momentary change. Before he could open his mouth, with my feigned cheerfulness...
"Well, if you say so, I'm not going to let all the points go to your score, am I? I'll just do one of my wifely duties for today," I said, and without letting him say anything, I pulled away from his arms. I took out the plate and pastry container that Pınar had given me that morning from the cupboard where I kept them, took a breath, put my face back to its former cheerful expression, and turned around.
"Surprise!" I said, pointing to the plate. Aslan didn't seem to buy my cheerfulness, but at least he wasn't bothering me. He went along with me.
"Have you suddenly felt guilty? I was absolutely certain she wouldn't give me the plate," she said. What did she mean? Did she know?
"How did you know?" I asked, surprised. I'd hidden it so well, how could he have seen it? He just laughed.
"I understood when you said you were going to visit. The women around here never send a newcomer away empty-handed," she said. So, even though she knew, if I hid the plate until morning, she still wouldn't take it and eat it?
'Everyone wants to move up a class a little.'
'Selin, you sometimes forget, but this isn't about marriage. So don't worry so much about who put the earrings on.'
'The man you need to please isn't your father, it's me.'
There it was again, the same thing happening. I was backing away again.
"You know everything, don't you?" I said grumpily, putting down what I was holding. I wanted to get away from him as quickly as possible.
"Anyway, dinner's ready. That'll earn me extra points. You eat your dinner, I'll be in the room," I said, and before Aslan could say anything, I left the kitchen and went to the room. Whenever we had a nice moment, Aslan's words would echo in my mind like this.
I put on my pajamas and got into bed. I wanted to sleep before Aslan arrived, but I couldn't fall asleep. All I could think about were the hurtful things Aslan had said to me, the things that had wounded my pride. He hadn't hesitated to trample on me because he knew I couldn't leave. And now he expected me to forget all of that and trust him. How could that be? No matter what he did, I couldn't trust him because I was afraid that in a corner of my mind he would turn back into that man who hadn't hesitated to hurt me.
I closed my eyes as the door creaked open. I didn't want to talk anymore. I'd played my role for today; that was enough. Aslan slowly walked to the bed and lay down. He lay silently behind me for a while. Strangely, I expected him to hug me. I was such an idiot. He wasn't going to hug me. Again, I felt close to him, and again—
Before I could even finish my thought, I was startled by an arm wrapping around my waist from behind. Aslan pulled me closer, buried his head in my neck, kissed me, and stayed there. I just stood there, stunned, in his arms. I couldn't even open my eyes. Was I dreaming?
I was sure he wouldn't hug me. Then, when I heard his hoarse but firm voice, I realized I wasn't dreaming.
"I will erase all the shadows that fall upon your eyes," he said.
He knew he owned them all, and he was ready to fight them.