Tree

All the rain of the world couldn't wash away the guilt and redemption he feels. And even if he drinks all the alcohol in the world, it will not give him peace, even for a second. Either way, with poor judgement, he drank a dose of cane beer to numb the burning of his soul, but all he achieved was a confrontation with a tree on his way home.

"Poor tree! I hope it gets better, I will pray for it," was Sibel's response when she was informed about the accident by the police.

He waited in vain for her to show up at the hospital room. The police officer told him about her nonchalant response. He chuckled, but his eyes were glued to the door.

She never came.

He left the hospital that night and went home feeling broken. Thanks to the airbag, the accident didn't cause too much damage to his body, just some bruises and cuts from the shattering glass.

But no one could see his broken soul, how he was mourning his past actions.

Another car was waiting for him with one of his men sitting in the driver's seat, silently obeying his orders.

As soon as the car stopped, he stood for a moment contemplating his home from the window. Inside those walls was confined his love that he had almost lost days before. 

Not saying a word, he got out of the car and strode through the pain, taking the time of the world with each step he made toward the house.

He knocked on the door and rang the bell to get her attention. 

Finally, she opened it.

Sinbad looked her over from head to toe. She was a paragon of an angel in that white night dress that hugged her body, leaving his imagination wanting more details that a first glance couldn't capture. 

When he met her eyes, which showed no mercy toward his recent condition but instead scolded him and were filled with hate, his heart twinged with pain. He had no reason to demand anything from her, as he couldn't convince his brain in time of her innocence.

"If you think I am gonna be a perfect little stupid wife for you now, forget it! If you want to eat, there is the kitchen. If you want to get a shower, call your lover. If you want medical care, go back to hell, I meant, the hospital. By the way, I am grieving for the tree now and you are a monster for hurting an innocent tree." She listed his "ifs" and then turned around in annoyance for being disturbed by him, who remained rooted on the doorstep.

His body slowly felt the ground holding him as he watched her climbing the stairs step by step without looking back at him. His eyelashes closed, giving permission for his tears to fall down, taking his soul into the river of guilt and shame.

Sibel, who once helped him by giving back his dropping hat with a genuine smile that captured his soul, now walked away burning in hate towards him, grieving for a tree and not caring if he was hurt or not. She left him there, in his darkness, in the new circle of his own hell.

"She can never find out the truth. Freedom is what she wants and I will give it in my way."

He talks to himself as he gets up from his misery, planning to turn things his way.

It could have been midnight or later when Sinbad opened her room door and stepped inside like a feather floating in the air, slowly and silently approaching her bedside.

He saw her glowing face illuminated by the chandelier that was on over her nightstand. She had forgotten to turn it off after reading the book that was on top of it. He took it and read the title.

"The Stranger" by Albert Camus. He smiled.

"Am I the Stranger here?" He mused, placing the book back in its place.

His focus was on her. His eyes roamed her like a lover would, longing to possess every inch of her.

In his head, a canvas of her silhouette started to take form as he effortlessly engraved her contour. She is the epitome of elegance. Nothing is too much or too little on her. Her silky dark, straight hair fell to her arms. Raven eyebrows that are always in a scowl, those feather eyelashes that have batted so many waterfall tears; a nose as if painted by Da Vinci, but since their first night, is always red. Her small ears bearing earrings on them are the kind you have had since you were a child if you are a girl. Her jaw was as sharp as her chin, concealing her lips that look like a little box but plump. How many times he tasted them without her permission, wondering how they tasted when she kissed back. Although she did, and for a brief moment, he found himself in heaven. Her face still holds his finger marks from their last battle, the same on her delicate neck which was hurt by his hand. Other marks were under her dress sleeves, not forgetting those that he engraved on her memory.

He condemned her before the trial. He didn't give her a chance to prove and protect herself, punishing her for no crime and sending her soul to the border of torture. Yet, he has no idea what is about to come.

Climbing to his feet, he strode toward the door, closed it, and turned to the bed. Getting inside the sheets, he put his hand over her belly, trying to pull her to his side.

She sleepily removed his hand and pushed him away, whispering, "Please, not again! I am all hurt!" His heart dropped into the ocean of regret, but he didn't remove his hand or distance himself.

"The next time I will make love to you will be when you require it. Only then, I promise," he said, putting his head near her ear, losing track of the moment and his thoughts.

"I found the truth today. The same truth you exclaimed about being honest, which I never believed because I trusted her blindly," he confessed with tears streaming down to the pillow merging with her tears since he forcefully made.

"I have nothing to defend myself in front of you. But I can't hurt you anymore. I have hurt you enough. Don't ask me to end your life because I can never do it, I can't kill you my love. Give me time to heal you and I promise you're gonna wish to live," Sinbad left a wet kiss on her cheek, hid his face on her crook, and fell asleep. His alcoholic breath hit her nostrils.

Had your eyes wide open!

Why were they open?

Morning came like the storm hadn't done anything at all to the world outside the Melekoglu Farm.

He was alone in her room, still drowsy from sleep. During the night, he shifted to his side, but as a sense of unease came to his soul, he jolted awake, perplexed, looking around at his surroundings. Realizing that he was still at home, he reached out to her side, but all he could find was the cold emptiness that she had left behind.

Recalling what happened recently, especially what happened last night when he slept so close to her, inhaling her exquisite aroma, suddenly he found it strange that she didn't wake him up with a shout for being so close to her all night.

He walked to his room and got busy with his morning routine with those thoughts still haunting him.

Stepping down the stairs and fixing his sleeves, he heard noise coming from the kitchen, assuming she was there his feet walked send him there.

"Good morning!" She welcomed him cheerfully as she emerged from the kitchen island with plates bearing food. He looked at her, shocked.

"Why are you googling at me?" she asked him.

"What happened? Last night, you left me alone at the door, and now. you are doing this," he said, seeking an answer.

"I respond to goodness with good. When I woke up today, I found my clothes intact and I didn't feel any pain, so you didn't harm me. This is your reward," she smiled in response and disappeared again into the kitchen. He sat down, feeling hurt and confused.

She had made an omelet again and put other things on the table like cheese, olives, tomatoes, pepperoni, and cucumbers in the form of an insalata. Butter and peach jam which are her favorites couldn't miss there. Water, orange juice, and not to forget the black tea are his favorite. Everything was there.

She looked happy as she sat in front of him, poles apart because the dining table was enormous.

He didn't say anything.

She was waiting for his verdict about the omelet as she attentively watched him eating.

"How is it? Better than the first one?" she inquired in a smooth tone and memories rushed for both of them. Their eyes said everything that their minds were forbidding their mouths to say.

Her hateful words.

His pleading words.

"Much better!" he said and ate the whole plate, surprising her.

She started to clean the table. He was checking his phone and helping with the collection of utilities when a broken glass noise came from the kitchen.

__________

I like men's redemptions! They do anything to obtain forgiveness!

Now you're gonna see what Sinbad will do for his Sibel.

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