"Meryem, you were really born for this job, bravo." Georgie says while tasting the cocktail I made, "What did you say your main profession was?"

  I wink, "Let's say I'm learning from the best."

  Georgie smiles proudly, "We'll put this on the menu. With your name. It'll go down like hotcakes."

  "Hey, Ezra, come and have a taste of Meryem." I hear Georgie say as I'm standing with my back to the door, stacking glasses on the shelf.

  I turn around and see Ezra walking toward the bar, avoiding looking at me. I know the smile on his face is forced. "I already did," he says with a wink.

  "I mean our new cocktail, dummy." He hands Ezra a glass.

  "It's a little early for a drink," he says first, "but I need this right now." He drinks the cocktail from the glass in one gulp like a shot.

  I keep my eyes on Ezra as I dry the glasses coming out of the dishwasher with one hand. I need to hear every word that comes out of his mouth.

  He puts the glass on the bar, "What's in this, melon? It's like I went to heaven for a moment."

  "It's a trade secret, I can't tell you," I say as I take the glass. "Besides, get back to work." I hand him his apron.

  As he takes the apron and puts it on, he looks at me gratefully, probably because I didn't mention the subject of the morning. Oh you puppy.

  This look awakens compassion in me for him. Why is this man, who has spent all his love for someone else, so attractive to me? Whether he makes me sad, makes me laugh or keeps me in suspense, I have the conviction that I will never be able to give him up. Why can't the feeling never go away that even if things are never real between us, I will still wait by his side?

  He comes to me, behind the bar. While he's checking things out, he leans in to whisper in my ear. "Didn't Georgie ask why we didn't come together?"

  " He did, I told him I didn't want to wait for you to shower. He didn't really mind."

  "You must expect an explanation from me." He's still whispering.

  I whisper back, "Yeah, we'll talk about it later."

  Suddenly he kisses my neck, under my ear. I get prickly. He whispers again, "Georgie was looking, it's better if we look like we're flirting."

  I turn slightly to face him, our faces a little closer now. I feel a warmth in my stomach. "Then tell me now."

  He puts his hand on my waist. He swallows. He glances around the bar and smiles. He places a kiss on my nose. He's closer to my lips now. "This is a very sensitive subject for me."

  I bring my body closer to his. "The fact that I don't know about it makes our situation more delicate."

  Ezra glances back at the bar. I close my eyes when his lips touch mine. I cover his bottom lip as he lets go. He wraps his other hand around my waist and pulls me to him. I feel completely in his arms now. I wrap my arms around his neck. I'm afraid he'll let me go. I want to prolong a kiss as long as I can. I want to forget that every good moment has an end.

  Georgie says, "Hey, your honeymoon should be over."

  Ezra answers without taking his eyes off my eyes, without taking his hands off my waist, "You're the one who said, 'Come and taste Mary. I'm doing it."

  Georgie shrugs and turns away.

  "Tonight, Meryem. I'll tell you everything."

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  He lets me go. I fall into the void. He picks up a cloth and goes to clean a table that has just been emptied. I'm terrified if I have to wave goodbye to things I've never felt before.

  ***

  I never thought I would be so excited about coming home. I never thought that when I looked at this tiny house, I would see it as a home. One day, if I have to leave, I will have to take out the suitcase I have tucked under the bed and I will burst into tears as I fill it. But now I have to banish these thoughts from my mind, because the strange excitement I feel as I enter the house is related to everything that happened earlier today.

  It's so confusing even inside my head. It's as if I've lived three different days in one.

  I hang my keys on the little hook on the wall and walk into the living room. Ezra comes in right behind me and closes the door. His face is more complicated than mine. His hair is disheveled, dark circles under his eyes. He looks tired. But no, I won't let him escape.

  He makes a move to go to his room, "Stop right there, man."

  He ignores what I say. He goes into the room. As he's about to close the door, I put my foot inside. "Stop running away from me!"

  "I'm not running from you." He calmly opens the door. He sits on his bed. This is the first time the two of us have been in this room together. I involuntarily peek inside, it's a bit bigger than my room. There is a bookshelf inside. I wonder how he arranged the books. He catches my glance at the bookcase.

  "You didn't come to borrow books, did you?" A cocky grin settles on his face.

  "Stop clowning around. We didn't talk the whole way. I assumed you'd tell me something at home."

  "According to what?" He takes off his T-shirt as if overwhelmed and throws it against the wall opposite the bed. I make a disgusted face, even as my insides melt at the sight of his muscular body.

  "Today you used my lips to hide something from Georgie, maybe according to that?"

  "And you were only too glad." He stands up, approaches me. "After all, you're the one who wouldn't let go when I tried to. It's not like you've only ever made love once in your life."

  The blood rushes to my brain. I raise my hand and slap him hard across the face. "Watch your mouth. I don't owe you a lie about how many times I've made love. A guy who tries to fuck girls he doesn't know on bar corners can't be my moral guardian."

  His eyes well up after the slap. He tries to hold my hand that I just separated from his cheek. "I'm sorry, you're right, please stop."

  I try to leave his room, but he doesn't let go of my hand. He increases his crying and kneels in front of me. I can't understand what's happening. This is the fourth time in one day. Because it's the fourth awkward moment.

  "What have I done to myself..." I whisper to myself.

  Wiping away his tears, he lifts his head and looks into my eyes. "I don't deserve you. You're so perfect. I only, only deserve to be treated like a dog."

  That's the strangest thing I've ever heard someone say. Does he have some weird fantasy? Does he have a psychological disorder that he's been hiding from me for how long? Is this all about his family that he won't tell me about?

  I release my hand from his grasp and go to my room and close the door. I lock the door and just stand there, answers flowing through my mind to my question. I feel an urgent urge to write them down. I sit on the bed, pick up the notebook and pen and start.

  "Which of us is independent of our family? Think about it, Meryem, why are you here? You were on your way to becoming a successful medical doctor. You were in love. You had built a beautiful life for yourself in Istanbul. You were able to spend time with the man you were in love with, even if he never returned your love. You traveled to many countries together. If you told this to your childhood self sitting on a rock in your village, watching the birds fly, would she believe it could be true?

  "But suddenly you found yourself making completely different plans. When your parents invited you to the village, it was no ordinary invitation. You knew this deep down inside. But you didn't know what could happen to you. Remember the child Mary. Sometimes the children at school would say to her, "Do you know you are going to get married?" but she never understood what they meant. It never crossed your mind what kind of trap your parents were luring you into. You came up with an elaborate plan to get out of that trap. You had to pretend to submit to your father and put that ring on your finger. If the man you fell in love with had returned your love the way you expected, maybe everything would have been different. When you told him your father's plan on the phone, secretly, crying in your room, you expected him to say something other than, "I'm so sorry for you." He was the second man in your life to disappoint you after your father. And you ran away. How could you have known that you would meet a bartender/psychologist whose psychology was in shambles as you were dragged by your family to a country you knew nothing about. And that you would fall in love with him...

  "Now maybe you should try to understand him too. His mother's parole... You don't know why. You don't know the difficulties he faced in life. You don't know why he thinks he doesn't deserve love. But do you have to understand? Think about it. Do you have to deal with something like this when you can't even get your own affairs in order? Can something that takes so much work really be love? Can this marriage game work?

  "Maybe the only thing you really need to do is get out of here. Accept defeat. Maybe you should call Ahmet. Maybe that would be easier. It would be better to make a fake marriage work somewhere you know, instead of here."

  I burst into tears as I conclude and put my notebook aside. Yes, what I feared. Yes, it's time to admit defeat and leave.