Traces of the past;

Traces of the past;
Early in the morning, Arzu's phone rang. It was her mother calling; her voice sounded tired but determined.
"Sweetheart, I'm being discharged from the hospital. The doctor said I can rest at home now."
Arzu immediately jumped to her feet.
"Mom, that's wonderful! I'll come pick you up right away. The villa is beautiful, it has a garden you can rest there."

"No, dear," her mother said, her voice gentle but stubborn. "I want to be in my own home. In my familiar surroundings... in my own bed, my own kitchen. The hospital really wore me out, believe me. You can visit whenever needed."

Arzu wanted to object, but she knew her mother's determination. The elderly woman had always been like this—preferring to stand on her own feet rather than be a burden to others.
"Mom, but if you're alone..."

"My little Arzu, my baby... We've informed the police, and Yaman's men are still with me. Don't worry, I'm safe."

At that moment, she thought of Ateş. After last night's argument, she was too ashamed to face him, but he was still working tirelessly for her mother's safety.
She picked up the phone and hesitated. She took a deep breath before dialing the number.
"Hello?" His voice was cold, distant.

"Well, Yaman... My mother is being discharged from the hospital. She wants to stay in her own home. Your men are still with her, I hear. Thank you..."

There was a brief silence. Arzu could feel him thinking in that silence.
"Alright. My men will be there until everything is secure. They'll keep watch day and night."

"Thank you," Arzu said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Really... thank you so much."

"Anything else?" Ateş said. There was no warmth in his tone. It was as if they were having a business conversation.

"No... that's all. I mean, thank y...."

The line went dead. Arzu stood there holding the phone. She had wanted to say something, to apologize, but her pride had defeated her. Perhaps it was too late, perhaps she had truly lost that man.
In the afternoon, they set out to register Mert for school. Arzu looked at her son in the rearview mirror—there was both excitement and worry on his little face. His new school uniform made him look even smaller.
"Mom, what if the kids don't like me?" Mert asked, childish anxiety in his voice.

"Why wouldn't they like you, baby? You're such a sweet, smart child. Plus, you play soccer very well—you'll make friends right away."

"But I don't know them. What if they ask about my dad not being there... What if they ask where my dad is?"

Arzu's heart tightened. She still didn't know how to handle this topic. Should she tell the child the truth, or get by with fairy tales?
"Mert, baby, every family's story is different. Some children don't have mothers, some don't have fathers... You are very loved, and I'm always by your side. Never forget that, okay?"

"But could Uncle Yaman be like a father? I mean, just pretend, so my friends will like me?"

This question surprised Arzu. Mert had never said anything like this before.
"Mert..." she said and swallowed.

Mert excitedly interrupted, "Uncle Yaman loves me very much, and I love him too. You love him too, don't you, mom?"

Arzu swallowed hard. The child's innocent question had stirred up her complex emotions.
"We'll talk about these things later, okay baby?"
Mert's face fell...
Minutes later, when they arrived at the school, they spoke with the principal and completed the paperwork. The school principal, Mrs. Sevim, was a warm-hearted woman.
"Mert seems very smart. Don't worry, he'll adapt here and be happy," she told Arzu.

While Mert went to see his classroom, Arzu waited in the corridor. This environment, with walls decorated with children's drawings, gave her peace.
Just then, she heard a familiar voice.
"Hello, Arzu."

When she turned her head, she saw Ateş. He was in a black suit, holding a colorful bouquet of flowers. His appearance was as impressive as always, but there was coldness in his eyes.
"You... What are you doing here?" Arzu asked in surprise.

"I promised Mert," Ateş said without even shifting his gaze.

Arzu mumbled, "You didn't have to trouble yourself, I could have talked to him."

Ateş said in a harsh tone, "I'm only here because I know what a fatherless child goes through on his first day of school," with a cold expression. "There's no other reason."

Arzu noticed there was deep pain behind these words. She saw the distance in his eyes. At that moment, she understood how much her words from last night had hurt.
"Yaman, I..."

"We have nothing to talk about," Ateş said sharply.

Mert came running, and his face lit up when he saw Ateş.
"Uncle Yaman! You came too! Yay!"

The hardness on Ateş's face immediately softened. He crouched down and handed the flowers to Mert.
"These are for you, little man. Congratulations on your first day of school."

"Thank you so much!" Mert smelled the flowers. "Mom, I'm going to give these to my teacher! I'll introduce Uncle Yaman to her too!"

Ateş saw the troubled expression on Arzu's face and thought to himself, "Do you really not want me in your life that much?" Then he turned to Mert.
"No, son," Ateş said gently. "Let's keep this between us. It's enough for your teacher to know what a wonderful child you are."

Arzu watched silently. Ateş's love and care for Mert was genuine. When talking to the child, his voice softened, his eyes sparkled. But his behavior toward her was like a wall of ice.
"Mert, go look at the classroom. I need to talk with Uncle Yaman," Arzu said.

The child ran to the end of the corridor. Arzu and Ateş were left alone.
"Thank you," Arzu said. "You're very good to him."

"That child is innocent, he deserves the best of everything," Ateş said. Then in a stinging tone, he muttered, "Unlike some people who dismiss others' kindness."

These words pierced Arzu's heart.
Just then, Ateş's eyes became misty. His mind went to that dark day from his childhood...
Eight-year-old Ateş stood alone in the school yard. His father had been arrested three days ago. There were charges of bribery and fraud against him. The news had spread throughout the city.
"His father's a thief!" a child shouted, throwing a tomato at him. The tomato juice splattered on his face.

"We don't play with children whose fathers are in prison!" another threw a stone. Blood trickled from Ateş's forehead.

"We don't play with the son of the man who stole our money!" a third child threw mud.

Little Ateş's face was covered with blood and mud. His school uniform was dirty, his hair disheveled. He wanted to cry but his pride defeated him. The teachers hadn't intervened. They had acted as if he was guilty too.
That day he had walked home alone. When his mother saw him at the door, she burst into tears.
"My son, you're not responsible for anything," she had said, but Ateş had felt dirty.

When he snapped out of the memory, he saw Mert's worried eyes on him.
Mert had looked at his classroom and come back.
"Uncle Yaman, are you okay? Your eyes are watery," he said with a sad face.

"Well, I didn't really like school much..." he said, clearing his throat.

"But you're a very strong child, remember that. Sometimes people might say bad things, don't listen to them. You're a big man," he said, stroking his head, then stood up.

"I'm leaving," he said without looking at Arzu.

"Yaman..." Arzu's voice came out shaky. "I... what I said last night..."

"Let's forget it," Ateş said, his voice tired. "You were right. One night, one favor. That's all."

The words hurt Arzu's heart, but perhaps everything should end this way so as not to hurt this man...

As evening approached, Arzu stood in front of the mirror. She had put on the silver-gray silk dress and done her makeup. The dress hugged her body perfectly, the neckline was eye-catching but not cheap. She had put her hair up and worn long earrings.

Her hands were trembling as she tied the mask's strings. Was she really going to get involved in this business tonight?

Natya knocked on the door.
"Mrs. Arzu, are you ready?"

"Come in, Natya."
The young woman entered, and her eyes widened when she saw Arzu.

"Oh, you look so beautiful... where are you going dressed like this?"

"Business meeting," Arzu lied. "There's a dinner with important clients. I'll be back late. Please keep an eye on Mert."

Natya looked suspicious but didn't say anything. She understood that Arzu was lying but didn't interfere.
"Of course, ma'am, we'll eat our dinner and go to bed," she said. She bowed respectfully and left the room...

Arzu looked at her reflection in the mirror one last time. Tonight she was going hunting, but who would be the hunter and who would be the prey was still unclear.

While looking in her purse, she picked up her phone. On impulse, she wanted to text Ateş. "I'm going somewhere dangerous tonight, if something happens to me, would you be there for Mert?..." she thought, but then gave up.

That man was no longer in her life.