CHAPTER SEVEN

Finally, the person responsible for Melek’s hit and run was in police custody, though not exactly through the usual way. During the process of his violent arrest, he committed suicide after admitting his deadly fault to two undercover officers. In a weird way, justice was served on the victim’s behalf yet not necessarily in an equitable manner. Regardless of the innocent life he took, I never wished death upon him. Sadly, he left behind a single mother of young children without protection or a stable home.

During the early morning hours, and after hearing of the distressful news, I took an overdue trip to visit Melek’s cemetery for a thoughtful prayer. She was now resting in peace, knowing that her early death was avenged at last. She was only thirteen years old. During the time I met her, I was going through a major change of my own while trying to build everything up from nothing. At the same time, I was madly in love with Kenan. She was a witness to our blooming relationship.

With no close relatives to look after her, I had taken a special interest in building a good friendship with Melek. She was my best student and very intelligent. Her dreams of being as successful as she thought I was drove her ambition to a higher level. I was very proud of her, and so I had promised to teach her everything I knew about music and life, but our future plans were cut short.

In her honor, I was planning to create a charity organization and call it the Melek Institute of Music & Life. In a contradictory community of wealth and poverty, charitable giving was a must. I truly believed in such generous contribution when I suggested the idea to my uncle earlier in the year. He was in favor, offering to support my institute, financially.

The old building of my choice was an abandoned school within the Besiktas district. After minor exterior cosmetic touch-ups, I was left with a much more intensive interior treatment, which required a couple of months’ worth of work.

Shortly after leaving the private graveyard site, I stopped by Selim’s office to discuss the restoration plans with his assigned team and, of course, our newest member and interior designer, Nuran. 

We planned to visit the location together that same day, to monitor the progress of our project. In Selim’s office, I sat around waiting for another meeting of his to be over. I sat in the fancy chair behind his desk, looking around for interesting finds. He was a very organized person who had endless numbers of binders reserved in a special corner and happy photographs of him and his family in another.

Diplomas of honor and recognition were framed on the wall, showing off his successful life. I smiled to myself feeling proud of the man that he was, just as he walked through the door to escort me out. Nuran was still occupied with another obligation and was planning to meet with us later on.

It took us about an hour to tour the vacant future institute, taking notes of every detail. It was a work in progress. Nuran’s ideas were new and very efficient, considering the budget and time frame of our project. The official opening was set for August 1st, which would have been Melek’s birthday. Nuran’s suggestion to get in touch with other profitable charities and get them to join the institute was a great idea, which reminded me of the Gocer Educational Foundation. 

Back then, I played the piano nonstop, proud of my musical talent, yet somewhere among the notes I lost the desire to perform. Perhaps the opportunity was coming back to me, inspiring me to pick up where I last left off.

Planning and over-thinking the endless possibilities made us hungry in no time, driving us to seek a local dinner overlooking the beautiful ocean view. Soon after, Kenan showed up to join us. Apparently, he was looking for Nuran, as they planned to spend the rest of the day together, but when he called to pick her up, she invited him to meet us at the restaurant where we were all dining. Reluctant to ask him detailed information regarding Melek’s case, I decided to say nothing. Though I thought he’d be relieved by the outcome of the investigation, he seemed somewhat disconnected.

In the middle of our lunch break, Kenan excused himself to answer a phone call. Soon after, I followed him, not with the intention to eavesdrop, of course, but to have a decent conversation for a change. Truthfully, I owed him my gratitude for all his hard work in finding the man who killed Melek and for leaving me with a decent closure. Waiting around the corner for him to return, I saw him walking back out, facing me in the opposite direction.

“Kenan, please wait.” I stopped him. He was about to keep walking.

“What’s going on, Bahar? Are you okay?”

“Yes. I am fine. I just wanted to speak to you. If you have a minute, of course.”

“Sure. What about?”

“It’s about Melek. My uncle told me what happened in Konya, and that the case is officially closed.”

“Yes. It is.”

“I am sorry I didn’t get a chance to thank you before for finding the man responsible for her death. Thank you for following up with the case. I really mean it.” The moment between us felt tense, loaded with strange feelings. The way we looked each other in the eyes reminded me of a more passionate time. Tears bubbled up ready to escape without control. It was the sense of grief all over again.

“There’s no need to thank me, Bahar. I was just doing my job.”

“I know. I mean, despite everything that happened between us in the past, you didn’t bail on the investigation, and for that I thank you.”

“I knew how much you loved her, and I am sorry it had to end this way.”

“Yeah…I am sorry, too.” For the first time in a year, I felt like I was finally coming to peace with our separation. A painful feeling I did not want to admit to myself or him occurred as my tears escaped in his presence, bringing me to that moment on the beach, just before the proposal. At the time he took into his arms to comfort me; yet now, mountains of space were standing between us.

“Don’t cry. Your eyes are too precious.” He reached his hand to wipe off my visible pains, leaving a rather invisible scar inside my heart. The touch of his soul against my skin was overwhelming, before a deep breath separated us once again. Though I was not trying to open up any of our old chapters, they seemed to reveal themselves on their own.

After my brief heart-to-heart conversation with Kenan, I was not the same, and lunch was pretty much over. Selim and I took off, leaving the two strangers to get to know each other in private. Our own plan was to visit a local music store to research the availability of the different instruments we needed for the institute. From music sheets to guitar strings, to violins and pianos. Everything was written down in alphabetic order on my to-buy list, yet my focus remained someplace else.

“So, you’ve known Nuran for a long time, right?” I wondered out loud while browsing the aisle of drums with Selim.

“Yes. Nuran and I grew up in the same town, and we also went to school together. Why do you ask?”

“Nothing in particular. I am just, you know, thinking about her design ideas and stuff. I mean her background as an interior designer.” Though that was not exactly what was on my mind. Her fast growing friendship with Kenan was more like what I was thinking.

“There’s no need to worry, Bahar. Nuran is great at what she does. You have to trust her. She’s traveled all over the world for work. You’ll be pleased with every aspect of this project. I promise you that much.” He smiled back.

“Sure. I have no doubt. I was just wondering. That’s all.” I turned my head away to browse for a flute when another question popped in my head. “She’s never been married, right?

“No...not that I know of.” He laughed, then stopped and looked back at me in a strange way. Perhaps he sensed my unintentional jealousy.

“She’s still young and attractive. I am sure she won’t be single for long.”

“Possibly. Though, are you referring to her new close friend, Detective Kenan?”

“Sure. Why not? They seem to understand each other well. Don’t you think?”

“Indeed. Is that important to you? I mean, does that bother you in any way?”

“What?” I giggled. “No! Of course not. Why would it?”

“I don’t know. It was just a question,” he replied. I turned my head away, starting to feel uncomfortable.

“You met Kenan before you left for Paris, too. Is that right?”

“Yes. I did. I know him from a while back. His father is our family’s attorney. We’ve met a few times.” I walked in the opposite direction, looking for a different distraction. He was now questioning me left and right.

“I ran into him a few times myself. Your uncle introduced us on New Year’s Eve. He seems like a nice guy.”

“Yeah.”

“Is that why you’re worried about his friendship with Nuran?”

“What? What do you mean? I am not worried about anything.” I laughed, acting surprised, regretting the start of such a conversation, which was quickly turning against me.

“As professional as Nuran can be at her career, she has a wild side to her that kept her from committing to any serious relationship in the past.We grew up together, but for the few years that I’ve lived in Paris, she’s changed so much. On the bright side, of course.” He smiled.

“That’s good. People often change, and fast.” I rolled my eyes away.

“Not everyone does, though.” He sure was right about that.

“Oh, I love this piano! It reminds me of the one I had before.” I immediately changed the subject, fearful of drawing attention to myself. He didn’t seem to be concerned at all about his friend’s relationship with Kenan, and so I shouldn’t have, either.

“Let Nuran and Kenan worry about their own love interest, while we focus on ours.” He smiled, holding my hand for a quick kiss.

“Sure,” I agreed, taking a deep breath and hoping to act less stressful around Selim. I gave him my word to be committed to him, and I was obligated to keep my promise. Maybe I wasn’t ready to start a new relationship when I claimed I was.

Hours later, I was back home with some time to spare before I got ready again for dinner plans. Selim was joining us in the evening to discuss the latest developments with the institute and to share with my uncle our promising progress. Upon my return, I found my mother waiting for me with an interrogation session of her own. I had left the house early in the morning, avoiding to discuss my sudden relationship with Selim. Clearly, there was no way for me out of that conversation. I had been avoiding it for weeks now.

“Welcome back, Bahar,” she said, while walking down the stairs to corner me with questions.

“Thank you, Mother. Is Uncle Hakan home yet?

“No. He said that he’ll be busy all day.”

“Okay.” I turned around to go upstairs when she stopped me.

“Hold it right there, Bahar. We didn’t get a chance to talk this morning. You left the house so early.”

“That’s right. I went to visit Melek and bring her flowers. I haven’t been to her graveyard since my return to Istanbul.”

“Good. I am glad that you went, then.” She smiled. Though she seemed unsure of how to start her conversation, I knew exactly what was lurking on her mind.

“Selim is coming over for dinner tonight.”

“Yes, I know. I saw him earlier, too. He informed me of my uncle’s invitation.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“I am still waiting to hear what you have to say about Selim. Aren’t you ready to explain your relationship?”

“Please, Mother.”

“I never knew of your passionate feelings for Selim before. I thought you two were just friends. What happened all of the sudden?”

“All of a sudden? Selim and I have known each other for a while now. There is no ‘all of a sudden.’”

“How come the romantic connection between you two never sparked up until now?” She didn’t sound too convinced of our charisma, and frankly, neither was I.

“It’s a spark, Mother. It can happen at any place, at any time.” I smiled proudly, trying to keep the pressure off me when she rolled her eyes at me with annoyance.

“Really? That’s your explanation?”

“Yes, Mother. That’s my answer. You of all people know how much I need to move on. Whenever I try, I get pulled back into the past, and for the first time in my life, I feel like I am ready to take the next step. Please, don’t be the one to pull me back. Please!” I told her the truth that had been brewing slowly in my heart, leaving her to think to herself.

The first time around, everyone was pushing me into an arranged commitment I had forever refused, and now that I am the master of my own choices, no one was being supportive. It didn’t make sense.

I then stormed into my private life to decide my new path once and forever. Within the safe of my old times, I buried meaningful memories that connected Kenan and me on a passionate level, memories I didn’t think I would live up to, ever again. Regardless of everything wrong that went between us, I still loved him. I wasn’t shallow to the extent of lying to myself, but our beautiful moment was stolen away from us by the fired bullet that shot me. I was still angry with him to forgive, and so I refused to go down that road again.

Slowly, I opened the wooden box of secrets to find pieces of dying history come to life. I reached down to expose its contents, picking up the white scarf that held Kenan’s faded scent of affection. I took in a quick whiff, inhaling a new breath, only for my body to push it back out.

Beneath the antique ruble was the “key to his heart” necklace, which he gave me on our second date. The same heart he stole and never gave back. Also there was the wrinkled photograph of us on the first night we spent at the cabin of happy dreams where we watched the stars dance together until sunrise. Leaving everything old behind, I closed the box at once, locking it forever. I held the key with a firm fist and threw it off my balcony, straight into the lake, trusting its waves to keep my secrets for as long as possible.

Closure is a serious call of life and death, an understanding of how everything ends just as important as knowing where to start next. To put the dots on the line and follow the trail of a new path is as good as setting a priority in the future. Knowing that there is a light at the end of each tunnel is a booster of confidence we all need for survival.

Every beginning has an end. Even though we may not predict its finish line, we know it’s there, somewhere. It’s just a matter of time before we find it. Each ending carries on its significant story with a thin line between start and finish, only to answer our many questions with a stack of new and unanswered ones. To turn the page of closure over is to accept everything written between its lines with the true intention of moving forward and not remaining stuck within.