Chapter 56 - A Story To Tell

"Do you plan on staying in bed for the whole day?" Aslan questioned, twirling a strand of her hair with his finger.

"Mm-hmm," she nodded, inhaling his musky oudh scent. "I like it better here where I am."

"As much as I'd like to stay here with you," he chuckled, untangling their legs. "At some point, we're going to have to get out of bed so why not do it now?"

"I'm not going anywhere," she pouted, wrapping her arms around his torso. "Neither are you."

"Sevgilim," he kissed the corner of her lips, taking her hand into his. "I'd like very much to stay in bed with you, but we need to eat, I'll just order for room service and then I'll come back to you okay?"

"Fine but-"

The shrill ringing of her phone interrupted her and she groaned, silencing it without checking who the caller was.

"Aren't you picking up?" Aslan's brows furrowed as he got down from the bed. "It might be important."

"I'm not in the mood to talk to anyone right now," she shrugged nonchalantly. "I'll just talk to whoever it is later."

"What if..." he paused when her lips thinned into a straight line.

"Never mind," he waved her off, offering her a smile before sauntering out of the room.

Najmah was unpredictable sometimes, if he pushed her, she could decide to leave and only Lord knows when she would talk to him again.

She propped her elbows under her chin and stared at the door, counting down the seconds to when he would return back into the room.

Her phone rang again and she hissed, silencing the call again not bothering to check who the caller was. She wasn't kidding when she told him that she wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone.

Ever since she told her family about her mental condition, they had begun to shower more attention on her which was becoming frustrating to her. All she wanted was for them to know and not to be sympathetic or pity her. And now, she wished she hadn't told them, it would have saved her from the awkward conversations about what it was like for her to be an SPD patient.

{••}

"A penny for your thoughts?" Aslan snapped a finger across her face.

"Nothing," she shook her head, playing around with her pasta.

His brows creased when she dropped her fork on the plate with a sigh.

"I hate pasta," she grumbled, meeting his confused gaze.

"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't know," he responded, feeling ashamed of himself. He was together with her for seven months and he still didn't know she hated pasta. "I'll go get you something else."

"No," she placed her hand over his to stop him from moving further. "Don't bother, I'm not really hungry."

"Naj..."

"Seriously," she cut him off. "I am not hungry."

"Alright," he conceded. "Have it your way."

"If it'll make you feel better," she sighed, standing up. "I'll go down and get some samosas for later."

"I'll go with you."

"No, no, no, no," she shook her head. "You sit here and finish up while I go and get the samosas. I'll be back in a few."

{••}

"I've been thinking," Najmah's voice cut through the silence after they were done eating.

"About what?" he quirked his eyebrow up, flopping down on the bed.

"I dunno anything about your childhood well, I dunno enough to actually say that I know everything about you and I'm supposed to know right?"

"What do you want to know?"

"Tell me your story," she stated, playing with their conjoined hands.

"Where do I begin?" he sighed, draping his free arm over her shoulder.

"How about the beginning hmm?" she nudged him playfully. "You can also start anywhere, we've got all the time."

"I killed someone," he blurted.

"You did what?" she gasped, pushing so fast away from him she almost suffered a whiplash.

"Easy there," he chuckled nervously, pulling back towards the bed. "If you react this way about this, then I do not know how you will react when you hear the rest."

"You mean to tell me you've committed crimes which are more gruesome than murder?" she gasped, placing her hand over her mouth. "Who are you?"

"Sev..."

"Don't," she moved farther away from him, pacing up and down the length of the room. "Who are you? Oh my God..."

"It's not what you think, okay? It came out wrong, that's not what actually happened. Just sit down and listen to me before you cause yourself an anxiety attack," he tapped the spot next to him, urging her with his eyes to come sit with him. "Why don't I start from the beginning, hopefully, you'd understand better."

Najmah debated on whether to bolt out of the room and run home or stay and hear the rest of the story. In the end, her curiosity got the best of her and she found herself crawled next to Aslan, waiting to listen to what he had to say.

As he shifted, his T-shirt rode higher, exposing one of the many scars he had hidden from the rest of the world. Her brows creased when she saw the scarred wound, wondering how it ended up on his body.

Najmah traced its outline with her finger, making him suck in a breath; he wasn't ready for her to find out about that part yet, but there was no delaying it any further, she had to know.

"I used to be a drug addict, just like my Baba. I was seven when he...he made me sniff cocaine. I didn't want to, but he forced me, otherwise he would hit Lale. She was just three, she wouldn't be able to handle his beatings like I did. Every day when Muhan and Anne were out, he'd force me to take whatever sort of drug he took and if I didn't he'd..." he paused, relieving the bitter memories like they were happening once again. "He'd lock up Lale in the small storage room and switch off the lights, knowing that the darkness tormented her. He used my love for her as a weapon against me, to break and turn me into the exact same person that he was and for a while, he succeeded."

"Aslan..." she gulped, unsure of what to say. Myriads of questions were running through her mind, but what stuck more was how cruel Mr Faik was to his children, how could he do such a thing? How stupid she was to admire him, how could her Abba be friends with such a man?

"When I was eleven, he tried to kill me. The bullet was just a few millimeters away from my heart, no one thought I'd make it. I spent almost a year in a coma and when I woke up, the trauma was too much for me to live with. My medical bills kept piling up and Anne couldn't keep up with the payment, I had to stop going for treatment. I kept getting nightmares about that particular day and every day, it kept getting worse until I couldn't hold it anymore. I took in whatever drug I could get my hands on, and that's how I spiraled out of control. With the help of Baba, I was admitted into a rehabilitation center after I overdosed. Six months later, I was good as new, although I still fought against withdrawal symptoms sometimes. I went back to school, kept a low profile, but it didn't last for long. I turned back to who I was because I couldn't stay off of drugs and then I met her.

She was the answer to all my problems, she helped me through my education and helped me stay clean. We were planning to get married, everyone was happy and then I lost my brother..."

He choked, unable to continue. Najmah felt something clog at her throat, she felt pity for him, but she also couldn't help but feel jealous when he talked about the other woman. Who was she? And why weren't they together? Was it Afet or was it someone else?

"His death was the final straw for me and I lost all control, I was in denial and couldn't get past the thought of him being gone, so I resorted to my old habits. Bedia tried to make me see reason, she tried to make me understand that he was gone but she couldn't. We got into a fight while I was taking her home and she tried to break off our engagement, I was still under the influence of the drugs I took. I knew that I shouldn't have been behind the wheels but I was so angry and I caused her death. I overdosed twice and each time, they had to pump my stomach to get the drugs out."

Silence befell them afterwards, Najmah trying to wrap her head around his past while he fought against the need to leave. Before he could make sense of what was happening, Najmah straddled him and placed her hand on the button of his shirt.

"May I?" she questioned emotionless, her hands hovering over the top button. He nodded, not trusting his voice to speak.

Slowly, she unbuttoned his shirt and traced her hand around the bullet wound near his heart. Her face was passive so he couldn't make out what she was thinking or feeling, but he knew she was definitely thinking about something. He couldn't meet her eyes for fear of seeing the exact same look Bedia had given him before he passed out; the look of utter contempt and disappointment.

"Aslan," she grabbed his face with both hands, forcing him to look at her. "You were in a bad place and you grew up with a sick father. Everything that you did was in the past and provided that you had repented it, I will not hold them against you. You didn't kill her, it was an accident. It was your test and it was ordained right before you were born into this world. I love you, and nothing will ever change that."

"Najmah," he breathed, feeling the weight of his secret being lifted from his shoulder.

"We're a mess you and I," she joined their foreheads together. "But the truth is no one has ever made me feel the way you do."

She wasn't much of a comforter, but she hoped that her words were enough to comfort him.

"Seni seviyorum."

"Seni seviyorum."

They stayed cocooned in each other's arms without saying a word, letting their beating hearts to speak for them; for in each other's arms, they found comfort.

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