Between the Bridges of Istanbul

By:Syeda Fathima Ahmed

EPILOGUE: The City Remembers Us

It's raining. Hard. The Bosphorus waters are dark and restless. The bridge is nearly empty except for her—Aylin—standing there, gripping a plane ticket in one hand, her phone in the other.

She dials a number. It rings.

And then, Emir answers.

"Aylin?" His voice is quiet, hesitant.

She takes a breath. She has so much to say. So much she should have said before. But the words don't come out.

"I just..." she starts, but then stops.

Silence.

Then Emir speaks again, softer this time. "Are you... leaving?"

Her fingers tighten around the ticket. She swallows hard. The answer is obvious. But then, she does something unexpected—she smiles. A sad, knowing smile.

"Do you think the city will remember us?" she asks.

A pause.

Then the line goes dead. Call ended.

The camera pans out—Aylin standing alone on the bridge, lights of Istanbul flickering behind her. Did he hang up? Or did she?

Cut to black.

chapter 1: Where Heartbreak Begins

Istanbul – A City That Never Sleeps, but She Does

Aylin never thought she would be the girl who loved someone who didn't love her back.

Yet, here she was.

It had been four months since Murat walked out of her life. Four months since she sat in the back of a taxi, staring at his name on her phone, hoping—praying—that he'd text her first. That he'd regret leaving.

But he never did.

And the worst part?

She wasn't even sure he ever loved her at all.

Four Months Ago – The Fight That Changed Everything

The neon lights of Istiklal Street blurred in her vision as Murat stood in front of her, phone in hand, texting someone else.

Aylin's chest tightened.

"Who is it?" Her voice came out sharp, cutting through the noise of the crowded street.

Murat barely glanced up. "No one."

Bullshit.

She snatched the phone from his hands before he could react, her heart hammering.

And there it was. Texts from another girl.

Murat: Come over tonight?

Murat: Missed you.

Her: You're such a flirt ;)

Aylin felt her stomach drop. Every doubt, every suspicion, every ignored instinct—confirmed.

She lifted her gaze to him. He didn't even look guilty.

"You used me." The words tasted bitter on her tongue.

Murat ran a hand through his hair, exhaling like this was inconvenient for him. "Aylin, don't be dramatic—"

Slap.

The sound cracked through the air.

Murat's face turned in shock, but Aylin didn't flinch.

"Don't call me dramatic. Don't act like I was stupid for believing you." Her voice shook with rage. "You made me think I mattered."

Murat sighed, rubbing his jaw. "I never asked you to love me, Aylin."

She laughed. A broken, painful laugh.

"And I never asked you to make me feel like I was the only girl in the world when I clearly wasn't."

Silence.

Murat had nothing to say. He never did.

Aylin swallowed the lump in her throat. "I hope one day, you love someone the way I loved you."

She threw his phone back at him.

"And I hope she destroys you."

Present Day – Aylin, but Different

She wasn't the same girl anymore.

The Aylin from four months ago? She was soft, hopeful, naïve.

The Aylin standing in front of the café today? Colder. Sharper. Quieter.

And then, just as she's about to step inside—

She hears a voice behind her.

Deep. Carefree. The kind that makes you turn around before you even realize it.

"Are you going in, or are you waiting for the rain to stop?"

Aylin turns.

And that's when she sees him.

A boy with messy dark hair, eyes that flicker like they hide a million stories, and a smirk that looks like trouble.

Emir.

The boy who is about to ruin everything.

Chapter 2 : The Stranger Who Knows Nothing, and Everything

Istanbul – The Rain That Never Ends

The sky over Istanbul was the color of bruises and secrets. The rain had been falling since the morning, drowning the city in a hush that made everything feel heavier.

Aylin didn't like the rain anymore.

She used to. Back when she was a different girl. A girl who believed in forever and meaningful glances and text messages that didn't leave her on read.

But that girl was gone.

Now, she just wanted to drink her coffee and not think about anything.

But then he spoke.

"Are you going in, or are you waiting for the rain to stop?"

She turned, her hand still on the door handle of the café.

He was leaning against the glass, hair damp from the rain, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie. His eyes—dark, unreadable—were studying her like he already knew something about her.

She hated that.

"I don't mind the rain," she said, pulling open the door.

"Good," he smirked, stepping in after her.

The First Conversation That Should've Been Nothing

Aylin ordered her coffee—black, no sugar.

The boy ordered a hot chocolate.

She nearly snorted. Seriously?

They ended up at the same table. Not on purpose. The café was just small, and the only empty seats were across from each other.

"You don't look like someone who drinks hot chocolate," Aylin said before she could stop herself.

He shrugged. "And you don't look like someone who drinks coffee without sugar."

"You don't know anything about me."

His smirk widened. "Exactly."

She exhaled, shaking her head. "Do you always talk to strangers?"

"Only the ones who look like they have a story."

Aylin raised an eyebrow. "And what makes you think I have a story?"

"Because people who don't usually smile more."

That shut her up.

The Boy Who Knows Nothing, and Everything

For some reason, they stayed.

Maybe it was the rain outside. Maybe it was the fact that the world felt quieter inside this little café. Or maybe Aylin just liked the way he didn't ask too many questions.

"So, what's your name?" she finally asked.

"Emir."

No last name. No explanation.

She took a sip of her coffee. "You don't talk much, do you?"

"I do. Just not about myself."

Aylin studied him. "Why? You got something to hide?"

Emir smirked again. "Everyone does."

She wanted to ask more. Wanted to know why his eyes looked tired. Why he sat like someone who was used to running. Why he didn't ask her name in return.

But she didn't.

Because she had secrets, too.

And if she started asking, he might ask back.

So instead, she leaned back in her chair, watching him sip his ridiculously sweet hot chocolate.

"Alright, mystery boy. If you won't tell me about yourself, let's talk about something else."

"Like what?"

She thought for a second. "Okay. You ever been in love?"

Emir chuckled. "That's a dangerous question."

"Why?"

"Because if I say yes, you'll ask what happened. And if I say no, you'll think I'm lying."

Aylin narrowed her eyes. "So which one is it?"

He swirled his drink, watching the foam dissolve. "I guess that depends on what you think love is."

Aylin hated that answer.

She knew what love was.

Love was sleepless nights, waiting for someone to text back.

Love was thinking you meant something, only to find out you didn't.

Love was giving away parts of yourself to someone who never deserved them.

Love was a mistake.

She didn't say any of that.

Instead, she leaned forward, challenging. "Fine. Then tell me what you think love is."

Emir finally met her gaze, and for the first time, he wasn't smiling.

"Something I don't believe in."

Aylin inhaled sharply.

Maybe, just maybe—

They weren't so different after all.

The Walk That Meant Nothing (But Meant Everything)

They left the café together.

Not on purpose.

It just happened.

The rain had slowed to a drizzle, making the city look softer somehow. The streetlights reflected on the wet pavement, turning everything golden.

Aylin pulled her jacket tighter around herself. "So, where are you headed?"

Emir shoved his hands into his pockets. "Why? You wanna follow me?"

She rolled her eyes. "Forget I asked."

He laughed, a low sound that made something in her chest tighten. "I live around here. But I usually just… walk."

"Walk where?"

"Anywhere."

She frowned. "That's weird."

"No, it's free."

She didn't have a reply to that.

They walked in silence for a while. The sounds of the city filling the spaces between them.

Then—

"You wanna know something funny?" Emir asked.

Aylin glanced at him. "What?"

"You remind me of someone I used to know."

Her heart skipped. Did he know? Did he see through her? Did he somehow… know about Murat?

"Who?" she asked, trying to keep her voice light.

Emir exhaled, watching his breath fog in the cold air.

"Someone who left."

Aylin's throat tightened. "Why?"

Emir's jaw clenched for half a second before he looked away. "Because I told her I didn't love her the way she wanted me to."

Aylin felt her stomach twist.

Because for the first time since meeting him—

She felt like she had just seen a glimpse of her own future.

And she didn't like it.

Chapter 3 : "A Game We Shouldn't Be Playing"

Istanbul – Where the City Watches

The streets of Istanbul never slept.

The air smelled like roasted chestnuts, wet pavement, and something unspoken between them.

Aylin hadn't meant to see him again.

But she did.

Or maybe… he found her.

The Second Meeting That Wasn't Coincidence

"Are you stalking me, mystery boy?" Aylin teased, leaning against the railing of the Galata Bridge.

Emir smirked, standing beside her. Too close.

"If I were stalking you, you wouldn't know."

"Creepy."

"Observant."

Aylin rolled her eyes, watching the boats pass under the bridge. The water was dark, reflecting the streetlights, the city humming with a life that never paused.

"So?" Emir said after a moment.

"So what?"

"Are we just gonna stand here in silence or are you gonna admit you like my company?"

Aylin scoffed. "You're so full of yourself."

"That wasn't a no."

She fought the stupid smile threatening to break free. "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?"

"A little."

She turned to face him fully now. "You're flirting with me."

Emir tilted his head. "Am I?"

"You tell me."

He leaned in slightly, his voice low. "Would it bother you if I was?"

Her breath caught. "You should be careful, Emir. You don't know anything about me."

His smirk didn't waver. "And you don't know anything about me. But here we are."

The Bet That Shouldn't Have Happened

"Let's play a game," Emir said, pushing off the railing.

Aylin raised an eyebrow. "What kind of game?"

"It's simple. We ask each other questions. No lying."

"And if someone refuses to answer?"

Emir's eyes glinted. "Then they have to do whatever the other person says."

Aylin scoffed. "Sounds childish."

"Sounds like you're scared."

That was enough to make her bite. "Fine."

Emir's smirk widened. "I'll start. What's something you've never told anyone?"

Her stomach twisted. "Pass."

"That's a shame." His grin was dangerous. "I guess that means you owe me."

"Great." She folded her arms. "What do you want?"

"Hmm…" He tapped his chin, pretending to think. "Sing something."

Aylin nearly choked. "What?"

"You heard me."

She scowled. "No way."

"Rules are rules, Aylin."

Her name sounded too good in his voice.

But still. No way.

"I'll embarrass myself."

"Probably. But I still want to hear it."

Aylin groaned. "Fine."

She cleared her throat, cheeks burning. Then, in a soft, barely-there voice, she started humming a melody. A song she hadn't sung since before… him.

Something shifted in Emir's face. Just for a second.

Then it was gone.

"Your turn," he said, voice softer.

Aylin exhaled, pretending not to notice the way her heartbeat was way too fast.

"Why don't you believe in love?" she asked.

His smirk faltered.

For the first time, he didn't have a quick answer.

"Pass," he finally muttered.

"Ah, rules are rules, Emir."

He sighed. "Fine. What do you want?"

Aylin thought for a moment. Then—

"Dance with me."

His eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me?"

She grinned. "You heard me."

"There's no music."

"So?"

"So I don't dance."

"Then I guess you're breaking the rules."

Emir groaned, rubbing his temple. "You're impossible."

But then—

He grabbed her hand.

Pulled her into him.

And suddenly, they were dancing.

The Dance That Wasn't Just a Dance

The world blurred.

The rain drizzled around them, and the city watched as Emir spun her, the movement making her laugh despite herself.

"You're terrible at this," he muttered.

"You're worse."

"You're stepping on my foot."

"Liar."

They weren't really dancing.

It was clumsy, stupid, ridiculous.

But it felt like something they shouldn't be doing.

Like a moment stolen from a story that wasn't supposed to be theirs.

Then—

Emir dipped her.

Aylin gasped, gripping his shoulders.

His face was too close.

The air between them too charged.

His eyes flickered to her lips for half a second.

Then—

He pulled away.

"See?" he said, letting go. "Told you I don't dance."

Aylin's heart was still racing.

She swallowed. "Shut up."

He just laughed.

The Moment That Shouldn't Have Happened

They sat by the Bosphorus later, side by side, watching the lights shimmer on the water.

"Tell me something real," Aylin murmured.

Emir sighed. "I don't do 'real'."

"Then do it anyway."

He was quiet for a long time.

Then—

"I used to believe in happy endings."

Aylin blinked, turning to him.

"What happened?"

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"I learned better."

Aylin's chest tightened.

She understood that feeling too well.

Maybe too well.

The Cliffhanger That Changes Everything

Somewhere, in another life, maybe they could have been different.

But in this one?

Aylin wasn't sure what they were.

Then Emir turned to her. "You wanna know what's funny?"

"What?"

"I think I was supposed to meet you."

Aylin's breath caught.

"And why's that?" she asked, forcing a teasing tone.

Emir smirked. "Because you remind me that I still feel things I shouldn't."

Aylin didn't know what to say to that.

So she said nothing.

And for once—

Emir didn't either

Chapter 4 : "Lines We Shouldn't Cross"

Aylin Knew This Was a Mistake

She told herself she wouldn't get too close.

She told herself Emir was just someone passing by in her life.

But the way he looked at her?

Like he saw through her lies?

Yeah. She was screwed.

Another Night, Another Dangerous Conversation

"Are you free tonight?"

Aylin stared at the message from Emir.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard.

She knew she should say no.

But she didn't.

💬 Aylin: "Where?"

💬 Emir: "You'll see."

That should have been her first warning.

The Ride That Shouldn't Have Happened

He pulled up on a motorcycle.

Of course, he had a motorcycle.

"Are you serious?" Aylin raised an eyebrow.

Emir smirked, holding out a helmet. "What? Scared?"

"I just don't trust you."

"Good. You shouldn't."

That should have been her second warning.

And yet—

She took the helmet anyway.

A Night That Should Have Been a Date (But Wasn't)

The city blurred past them as they rode through the neon-lit streets.

Aylin held on too tightly at first.

But then she started to let go.

The air smelled like salt and smoke, and for a moment, she let herself forget everything.

Forget her past.

Forget the way her heart had been ripped apart before.

Forget that Emir was still a mystery she wasn't supposed to figure out.

The Place He Took Her To

They stopped at an abandoned rooftop overlooking the Bosphorus.

"This is your big plan?" Aylin teased, stepping forward.

"I figured you'd like it."

She did.

But she wasn't about to admit that.

She turned to him. "Why do I feel like you do this with every girl?"

Emir laughed, shaking his head. "You really think I bring just anyone here?"

She crossed her arms. "I wouldn't know. You don't tell me anything about you."

That flicker of something crossed his face again.

"What do you want to know?" he asked.

"Everything."

"That's dangerous."

"For who?"

"For both of us."

The Question That Almost Ruined Everything

"You ever been in love?" Aylin asked.

Emir exhaled, looking out at the city.

For a moment, she thought he wasn't going to answer.

Then—

"Once."

Aylin's breath caught. "And?"

His jaw clenched. "And I don't believe in it anymore."

Aylin's stomach twisted.

Because that was exactly how she felt too.

The Almost Confession

"Why did she leave?" Aylin asked.

Emir let out a bitter laugh. "Who said she left?"

Aylin froze.

"You left her?"

His eyes darkened. "Sometimes it's better to walk away before you destroy someone."

Her heart ached in a way it shouldn't.

Because she knew that feeling too well.

The Moment That Shouldn't Have Happened

She stepped closer. "Maybe you're not as heartless as you pretend to be."

Emir smirked, but it didn't reach his eyes. "And maybe you're not as strong as you pretend to be."

Her breath caught.

He was too close now.

The air between them too heavy.

His gaze flickered—

To her lips.

And for a second, she thought he was going to—

But he didn't.

Instead, he pulled back.

"Go home, Aylin." His voice was too quiet.

Too dangerous.

Like if she stayed any longer—

They'd cross a line they couldn't uncross.

Aylin swallowed hard. "Yeah. Okay."

But as she walked away—

She knew this wasn't over.

Not even close.

The Cliffhanger That Changes Everything

That night, Aylin tried to sleep.

Tried to forget his words.

But then—

Her phone buzzed.

💬 Emir: "I don't think we should see each other again."

Her stomach dropped.

What?

💬 Aylin: "Why?"

No response.

For hours.

Then—

💬 Emir: "Because I don't want to hurt you."

Her hands trembled.

And for the first time since she met him—

chapter in her life.

Just a fleeting presence.

Nothing more.

But then—

💬 Aylin: "You don't get to decide that for me."

She hit send before she could stop herself.

And this time—

He didn't respond.

Not that night.

Not the next day.

Not for an entire week.

And it was driving her insane.

Distractions Never Worked

Aylin threw herself into everything except thinking about him.

She walked the busy streets of Istanbul, surrounded by people—yet somehow, she felt alone.

She went to the café where she used to study. No sign of him.

She tried to go to that rooftop again. But it was empty.

She told herself she didn't care. But she did.

And it only got worse when she saw him.

The Party She Shouldn't Have Gone To

It was a mistake.

She knew it was a mistake the moment she walked in.

Loud music. Dim lights. Too many people.

And then her eyes landed on him.

Emir.

Leaning against a wall.

A drink in his hand.

Talking to a girl.

Aylin's chest tightened.

She shouldn't have cared.

But she did.

And then—

His gaze flickered up.

And met hers.

The Moment That Broke the Silence

He didn't look away.

Neither did she.

But she refused to be the first to move.

So she turned to the guy beside her—someone forgettable.

Smiled.

Laughed.

Let him lean in too close.

And just like that—

She saw it.

The flicker of something dangerous in Emir's eyes.

Jealousy.

He turned back to his conversation.

But she saw the way his jaw clenched.

Good.

Let him feel it too.

The Confrontation That Was Bound to Happen

Aylin barely made it to the balcony before she heard footsteps behind her.

She didn't need to turn around.

"So this is what we're doing now?" His voice was sharp.

"What do you mean?" she asked, taking a slow sip of her drink.

"That guy? Really?"

She turned to face him. "Oh? I thought you didn't want to see me anymore?"

Emir ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "Aylin—"

"No, really. I'm just following your rules, Emir. You don't want to hurt me, right? So why do you care?"

Silence.

But it wasn't empty.

It was loaded.

She saw it in his eyes.

The storm brewing inside him.

And when he finally spoke—

His voice was softer than she expected.

"Because I can't stop caring about you."

The Almost Kiss—Again

Aylin's breath hitched.

For the first time, she saw it.

The fear behind his walls.

The way he wanted to get close—

But was terrified of what it would mean.

And suddenly, she wasn't afraid anymore.

She stepped forward.

Close enough to hear his heartbeat.

Close enough to make a mistake.

"Then stop pretending."

His gaze flickered down—

To her lips.

And for a second, she thought—

This is it.

But instead—

He pulled back.

Again.

"I can't." His voice was barely a whisper.

Aylin's heart shattered.

But she smiled anyway.

"Then I guess you'll have to watch me move on."

And with that—

She walked away.

Forcing herself not to look back.

Chapter 6: "The Spaces Between Us"

Aylin Didn't Look Back.

Not that night.

Not the next day.

Not even when her heart screamed at her to.

She had made a promise to herself—

"If he won't fight for this, I won't either."

So she didn't text.

Didn't call.

Didn't look for him in the crowded streets of Istanbul.

And when she walked past the café where they first met—

She didn't stop.

But God, it hurt.

The Man Who Was Supposed to be a Stranger

A week passed.

Then two.

Aylin thought she was doing fine.

She smiled at her friends.

Laughed at jokes that weren't funny.

Pretended that a boy with dark eyes and a guarded heart didn't exist.

And then—

One evening, as the sun melted into the Bosphorus, she heard a voice behind her.

"You're really going to pretend you don't see me?"

Her heart stopped.

She turned.

And there he was.

Emir.

Standing by the bridge.

Hands in his pockets.

Looking at her like he was seeing her for the first time.

Like he had lost her before he even had her.

The Fireworks of the City

She should have walked away.

But Istanbul at sunset had a way of making you forget your decisions.

So she stayed.

Leaning against the railing.

Watching the city lights flicker on, one by one.

"What do you want, Emir?" Her voice was steady. She was proud of that.

He exhaled.

"I don't know."

She scoffed. "Then why are you here?"

Silence.

But this time, she refused to let him control the moment.

"You made your choice. You walked away first."

He clenched his jaw. "You think it was easy for me?"

"No. I think you made it look easy."

The wind picked up.

Carrying the sounds of the city, the faint hum of music from a passing ferry, the distant laughter of strangers.

And still—

They stood there.

Two people who should have never met.

Two people who couldn't let go.

A Confession Without Words

Emir reached into his pocket.

Pulled out a small red string.

Frayed at the ends.

Aylin frowned. "What's that?"

"The bracelet you lost."

She blinked. She had forgotten about it.

Months ago, it had slipped off her wrist.

And somehow—

He had found it.

And kept it.

Her breath caught. "Why?"

He hesitated.

Then—

"Because it was yours."

Aylin Wanted to Scream.

He didn't get to do this.

Didn't get to make her feel like she mattered—

And then leave again.

"You don't get to show up with pieces of me and expect everything to be okay."

Emir's lips parted, but she didn't let him speak.

"You don't talk. You don't tell me anything. You just disappear and reappear when it's convenient for you."

She swallowed hard.

"But I'm not waiting for you anymore, Emir."

His fingers curled around the red string.

He looked at it like it was some kind of lifeline.

"I don't want you to wait." His voice was raw. "I just—"

He stopped.

And that was the problem, wasn't it?

He always stopped.

Never finished the sentence.

Never let himself want her fully.

So Aylin shook her head.

"Then let me go."

She turned to leave—

And this time, she was sure he wouldn't stop her.

But then—

"Aylin—"

She froze.

And for the first time—

There was something desperate in his voice.

Like he was about to break his own rules.

Chapter 7: "Tell Me to Stay"

Aylin Was Done Waiting.

She had given him a thousand moments—

A thousand unspoken chances to say something, anything.

And every single time—

He had let her slip away.

So this time, she wasn't stopping.

Not for him.

Not for the red string in his hand.

Not for the love he refused to name.

She took a step forward.

Then another.

And then—

"Aylin, stop."

A Command, Not a Request.

The way he said it—

Low. Rough. Desperate.

Like the word had been ripped out of him before he could think twice.

She turned. Slowly.

"Why?" Her voice was quiet.

Emir swallowed.

His hands were clenched into fists, like he was holding something back.

Like he wanted to reach for her but didn't know if he was allowed to.

"Because if you walk away now…" He exhaled sharply. "I won't get another chance to say it."

Say What, Emir?

Aylin's heart was slamming against her ribs.

But she refused to make this easy for him.

"Say what?" she challenged, tilting her chin up.

His eyes burned into hers.

Dark. Intense. Unreadable.

"You already know."

She laughed. "No, I don't. Because you never say anything."

He hesitated. Just for a second.

And that second?

It was enough to remind her of every time he had chosen silence over her.

Every time he had let her walk away.

So she shook her head, stepping back. "That's what I thought."

Emir Didn't Think. He Just Moved.

One second, she was slipping away—

The next, he grabbed her wrist.

Not hard.

Not forceful.

Just enough to make her feel it.

"Aylin—" His voice was hoarse. "Please."

Her breath hitched.

Not because of his touch—

But because Emir never begged.

And now?

Now he was looking at her like she was the only thing holding him together.

Aylin Couldn't Breathe.

She didn't know what hurt more—

The fact that he was stopping her now—

Or the fact that he had never stopped her before.

"You don't get to do this," she whispered.

His grip on her wrist loosened, like he was afraid of breaking her.

"I know."

But he wasn't letting go.

This Was the Moment.

The one she had been waiting for.

The one where he either—

A) Finally told her the truth.

B) Proved that she was right to leave.

Aylin swallowed.

"If you want me to stay, Emir, tell me."

Silence.

Not the kind that felt like comfort.

The kind that shattered.

She nodded once. "That's what I thought."

And this time—

When she pulled away—

He let her go.

Chapter 8: "The Weight of Almost"

Aylin had always believed in the idea of 'almosts'.

Almost happy.

Almost safe.

Almost loved.

She had spent a lifetime living in the space between what was and what could have been.

But this?

This was the last time she was going to be someone's almost.

The Absence of Him.

Heartbreak is a funny thing.

Aylin thought it would come like a storm—loud, raging, furious.

She thought it would hit her all at once, like a car crash.

But heartbreak?

Heartbreak came quietly.

It came in the silence where his texts used to be.

It came in the spaces he used to fill.

It came in the whisper of the wind as she walked home alone.

It came when she realized—he wasn't coming after her.

And that?

That was the worst part of it all.

But Then—

💬 1 New Message

From: Emir.

"Are you okay?"

Aylin's breath caught.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard.

Was she okay?

No.

Did she want him to know that?

Also no.

So she typed:

💬 Aylin: "Yeah. You?"

The Lie Between Them.

💬 Emir: "I'm fine."

💬 Aylin: "Good."

Silence.

She could almost picture him, phone in hand, hesitating.

Just like she was.

Just like they always did.

Then—

💬 Emir: "I feel like I lost you."

She clenched her jaw, blinking rapidly.

She should ignore it.

She should block him.

But instead, she typed:

💬 Aylin: "You didn't lose me, Emir. You let me go."

One Word, One Chance.

💬 Emir: "Aylin..."

She waited.

Just one word.

That was all he had to do.

Tell her to come back.

Tell her he loved her.

Say something.

But the message bubble remained empty.

Seconds stretched into minutes.

And that was her answer.

She turned off her phone.

And for the first time since meeting Emir—

She let herself picture a life without him in it.

But Here's the Thing About Almosts…

They don't just disappear.

They linger.

Like an unfinished sentence.

Like a door left slightly open.

Like a text message with no reply.

And deep down—

She knew this wasn't over.

Not yet.

The Bosphorus Bridge – A Meeting That Shouldn't Happen.

Aylin wasn't sure why she texted him again.

Maybe she needed closure.

Maybe she wanted to see if he'd fight for once.

💬 Aylin: "Meet me. The Bosphorus Bridge. 10 PM."

She watched the screen.

The dots appeared.

Then disappeared.

Then appeared again.

💬 Emir: "Okay."

The Wind, The Water, And Him.

Istanbul stretched before her like a dream.

The Bosphorus Bridge stood tall, its lights shimmering over the water.

The Marmara Sea below was restless, waves crashing like unsaid words.

She pulled her coat tighter around her.

It was cold.

Or maybe—

Maybe she just felt cold.

Footsteps.

She turned.

And there he was.

"You Came."

He looked... different.

Or maybe she was looking at him differently.

"Of course I did," he said, stepping closer. "You asked me to."

Her heart twisted.

That was the problem, wasn't it?

She always had to ask.

He never came on his own.

The Words She Couldn't Hold In Any Longer.

"You know what's funny?" she whispered, staring at the sea.

"What?"

"I used to think you were different."

Emir's expression hardened. "Aylin—"

She shook her head. "No. Let me talk."

He closed his mouth.

She inhaled.

"You made me feel special. Like I mattered. Like I was—" She stopped, shaking her head. "It doesn't even matter anymore."

"It does," he said, his voice urgent.

She laughed bitterly. "Then tell me. Tell me why I mattered."

Emir exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "You just do."

"That's not enough," she said, voice breaking.

Silence.

He looked away.

And that?

That told her everything she needed to know.

The Final Question.

"Did you ever love me?" she whispered.

Emir's hands clenched. "Aylin—"

"Just answer."

He closed his eyes.

Then—

"I love you," he said.

She froze.

"But not in the way you want me to."

And Just Like That—Her Heart Shattered.

Her breath hitched.

She turned away.

The waves below roared, the city lights blurred.

She should have seen this coming.

She should have known.

And yet—

It still felt like dying.

He Tries to Fix It, But It's Too Late.

"Aylin, please—"

She stepped back. "Don't."

"I never meant to hurt you," he whispered. "I swear, I didn't know you were this vulnerable. I didn't know I was—" He exhaled. "I never wanted this."

She swallowed the lump in her throat.

"You were everything to me," she said. "But I was just—what? Someone close to your heart?"

Emir looked like she had stabbed him.

"Aylin, I can't lose you." His voice cracked. "Please."

She stared at him.

And for the first time—

She didn't know if she could forgive him.

The Wind Carries Their Goodbye.

She turned back toward the sea, her fingers trembling.

"Do you think the city will remember us?" she whispered.

Emir looked at her, eyes filled with something she couldn't name.

"Always," he said.

But the thing about Istanbul?

It had seen love stories like theirs before.

And it would see them again.

And That's The Thing About Almosts…

They don't just disappear.

They stay.

Like a city skyline at night.

Like the ghost of a touch.

Like the whisper of a name in the wind.

She walked away.

And this time?

He didn't stop her.

Chapter 9: "Love, But Not Like That"

Some Goodbyes Are Not Meant To Be Gentle.

There were no fireworks when things fell apart.

No screaming. No accusations thrown like knives.

Just silence.

Just a quiet kind of breaking.

The kind that seeps into your bones,

The kind that leaves you haunted.

It Started With A Message.

💬 1 New Message

From: Emir.

"We need to talk."

She should've ignored it.

She should've let it sit in her inbox, unread, gathering dust.

But she didn't.

Instead, she found herself at their usual café, fingers wrapped around a cup of coffee she wasn't drinking, waiting for a boy who had already broken her heart in ways he'd never understand.

And when he walked in—

She told herself to feel nothing.

To be indifferent.

But her hands trembled under the table.

Because no matter how much she tried—

She was never indifferent when it came to him.

"What Do You Want, Emir?"

He sat across from her, gaze searching.

She was different.

Quieter.

Calmer.

Like a storm that had already torn through everything and had nothing left to destroy.

"Aylin," he started, but she cut him off.

"What do you want, Emir?"

Her voice was steady, but there was exhaustion beneath it.

He exhaled. "I miss you."

She laughed, a hollow, broken sound.

"You don't get to say that," she whispered.

His brows furrowed. "Why not?"

"Because you don't love me," she shot back. "You just don't want to lose me."

Silence.

He didn't deny it.

And that silence?

It was louder than any confession.

"I Love You."

It was barely above a whisper.

But it was there.

It was real.

Her breath caught.

For a second, the world stopped.

But then—

"But not like that."

That Was It. That Was The Truth.

Her heart cracked in places she didn't know were still breakable.

She let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head.

"There it is," she murmured.

Emir looked away.

"I love you too," she admitted. "But I love you in the way that ruins people. I love you in the way that stays."

Her voice wavered.

"And you? You love me in the way that leaves."

A Goodbye That Was Never Meant To Happen.

Emir clenched his jaw. "That's not fair."

"Fair?" she repeated, stunned. "You think this is about fairness?"

She exhaled sharply, shaking her head.

"Do you have any idea how much it hurt?" she asked, voice quiet but sharp. "To love someone who only ever meets you halfway? To beg for the bare minimum?"

His hands curled into fists. "I never meant to hurt you."

"But you did," she said, voice breaking.

"I thought—" he hesitated, rubbing a hand over his face. "I thought we were happy. Even if it wasn't—"

"Even if it wasn't what I needed?" she interrupted.

He had nothing to say to that.

And that hurt the most.

"Tell Me The Truth, Emir."

Her voice was shaking.

"Did you ever think of me that way?"

His throat bobbed.

"I—I don't know."

She flinched.

Because not knowing was worse than a no.

She nodded, eyes stinging.

"That's all I needed to hear."

"I Never Wanted To Lose You."

His voice cracked.

She swallowed.

"You don't want to lose me," she repeated softly.

Then she looked up—really looked at him.

"But you never wanted to keep me, either."

And that?

That was the difference.

The Breaking Point.

He stood up. "Aylin, wait—"

"No, Emir."

She inhaled sharply.

"I'm done waiting for you to love me the way I deserve."

He reached for her wrist, but she pulled back.

She had spent years letting him hold her in place.

Letting him string her along, just close enough to feel wanted, but never enough to feel loved.

Not anymore.

Some Endings Are Needed.

She smiled—soft, heartbreaking.

"You already lost me."

Then she turned away.

And this time?

She didn't look back.

But Emir?

He sat in that café for a long time after she left.

Because for the first time—

He realized what it truly meant to lose her.

And for the first time—

He wasn't sure if he would ever get her back.

The City Still Remembers.

She walked home through the empty streets of Istanbul, the Bosphorus lights reflecting off the water.

Her heart ached.

But she didn't regret it.

Not this time.

Because love wasn't supposed to be one-sided.

And she was tired of bleeding for someone who would never bleed for her.

And yet—

She turned back, one last time.

Because even when she walked away,

Some part of her would always wonder—

Would he ever chase after her?

Chapter 10 – "A Mother's Love Is Also Protection"

The rain drummed softly against the windows of their apartment in Bebek, the gray Istanbul skyline reflecting Aylin's hollow stare. She sat curled up on the couch, her phone resting lifelessly beside her, the last messages from Emir staring back at her like ghosts of a love that never truly belonged to her.

💬 Emir: "Aylin, are you okay? You've been quiet." 💬 Emir: "Talk to me. Please." 💬 Emir: "Aylin?"

She hadn't replied. She couldn't. Not after the conversation she had with her mother just hours ago.

"Aylin, I need to talk to you."

Her mother's voice was steady, but something about it sent an unsettling chill down Aylin's spine. She looked up from her tea, the warmth of the cup doing little to ease the cold creeping into her bones.

"What is it, mumma?" she asked, trying to keep her voice light.

Her mother sighed, sitting down across from her. "It's about Emir."

Aylin stiffened. The name alone was enough to make her heart tighten, a thousand memories flashing before her eyes—his laughter echoing by the Bosphorus, the way he would steal glances at her when he thought she wasn't looking, the comfort of his voice on lonely nights.

Her mother reached for her hand. "You need to let him go."

Aylin's breath hitched. "What?"

Her mother's eyes softened, but there was no room for negotiation in her tone. "You've already been through enough, Murat. First, that boy who used you and left you shattered, and now this? I see it, Aylin. The way you look at him. The way you are breaking piece by piece because he doesn't love you the way you love him."

Tears burned at the corners of Aylin's eyes. She pulled her hand away. "But he—he cares about me."

Her mother's expression hardened. "Not in the way you need him to."

Silence.

Aylin swallowed the lump in her throat. "So what? You want me to just erase him from my life like he was never there?"

Her mother's voice wavered for the first time. "Yes."

A single tear slipped down Aylin's cheek. She shook her head, almost laughing at the absurdity of it all. "You don't understand. He's not like the last guy. He's different. He—he never meant to hurt me."

"That doesn't mean he didn't," her mother said quietly. "Love should not leave you feeling like this, Aylin. Look at yourself."

Aylin exhaled shakily, running a hand through her hair. "Mumma, I can't just stop talking to him. He's… he's my best friend."

Her mother's voice broke slightly. "And that is exactly why you need to."

Aylin stood up abruptly, pushing the chair back with a screech. "You don't get to decide this for me!"

"I do when I see my daughter crumbling before my eyes!" her mother snapped. "I see the way you stay up at night, waiting for his texts. I see the way you pretend like it doesn't kill you when he calls you his closest friend instead of something more. I see everything, Aylin. And I refuse to watch you go through this again."

Aylin's shoulders trembled, her breath ragged. "I love him," she whispered, as if saying it out loud would make it hurt less.

Her mother's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "And that's exactly why you need to let him go."

Aylin stared at her mother, her chest tightening until she could barely breathe.

She wanted to fight. She wanted to scream.

But she had no words left.

The weight of that conversation lingered in her bones as she sat on the couch now, her phone still lifeless beside her.

💬 Emir: "Aylin?"

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. Every part of her wanted to reply, to tell him she was still here, still waiting, still hoping for something—anything.

But instead, she turned off her phone and let the rain drown out the sound of her breaking heart.

Chapter 11 – "Confessions Under a Dying Sky"

Aylin had never struggled to breathe more than she did now. The walls of her chest felt like they were caving in, but she had to do this. She had to tell Emir everything. Every dark, hidden scar. Every secret she never dared to share. If she didn't now, she never would.

The streets of Istanbul stretched endlessly in front of her as she made her way to him. The Bosphorus winds whipped against her face, tangling her hair, but she barely noticed. The weight in her heart was heavier than anything the sky could throw at her.

She found him waiting near the dock, his hands in his pockets, his face unreadable. His usual teasing smirk was absent, replaced by something she couldn't quite decipher. Was it worry? Guilt? Pain? Maybe all of it.

"I didn't think you'd come," Emir said quietly as she stepped closer.

She let out a breathless laugh. "Neither did I."

They stood there in silence for a moment, the distant honking of ferries and murmuring of the city around them filling the void. Then, Aylin spoke.

"There's something you need to know," she said, her voice steady, despite the storm inside her. "You don't know me, Emir. Not really. And it's not your fault—I never let you."

He frowned, shifting his weight. "Aylin—"

"No. Listen. You once told me I didn't know anything about you. And I believed that. But now I realize… you don't know anything about me either." She swallowed. "But you deserve to."

Emir's jaw tightened, his fingers twitching like he wanted to reach for her but didn't dare. "Then tell me."

Aylin inhaled sharply. "I wasn't always like this. I wasn't always this… guarded, this distant. I loved once. Or at least, I thought I did. There was a guy before you—he made me believe I was special, that I meant something to him. But I was just a game to him. He used me and threw me away like I was nothing. And the worst part? I let him. I was so desperate to be loved that I ignored every red flag, every warning sign."

She forced a shaky laugh. "You know what the funny part is? My friends saw it coming. They told me he would break me, and he did. But I still let him. And when he left, I promised myself I'd never let anyone in again. Until you."

Emir's expression darkened. "Aylin—"

"Wait," she said, her voice barely above a whisper now. "There's more."

She clenched her fists, bracing herself for the hardest part. "My father… he's not the man people think he is. He's controlling. Manipulative. He—" she sucked in a breath, blinking rapidly, "—he once accused my mother of cheating. She never did, Emir. She never even looked at another man. But he convinced himself otherwise, and one night, he… he hit her. And when I tried to stop him, he hit me too."

The words felt foreign on her tongue, like she had never said them out loud before. Maybe because she never had.

Emir's entire body went rigid. His fists clenched at his sides, his breath uneven. "He hit you?" he asked, voice trembling with barely contained rage.

Aylin nodded, biting her lip to keep it from quivering. "It wasn't the first time. It wasn't the last. My whole life, I've been trying to escape it, trying to pretend that if I just behaved, if I was good enough, he'd stop. But he never did. And now, I realize that no matter what I do, he never will."

Silence.

Then, Emir exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Aylin, I—" He stopped himself, stepping closer, his voice raw. "I don't deserve you."

She blinked. "What?"

He looked at her, his eyes filled with something indescribable. "I don't deserve you. I've hurt you too, haven't I? Maybe not like him. But I made you believe something that wasn't true. I made you think I felt something I didn't. I didn't know I was doing it, I swear, but that doesn't change the fact that I did. And now, hearing all this, knowing everything you've been through… I feel like I've committed a sin against you."

Aylin opened her mouth to protest, but he shook his head. "No. I should've seen it. I should've known. And I am so, so sorry, Aylin. For everything."

Tears welled in her eyes, but she didn't let them fall. Instead, she forced a sad smile. "You were the only thing that made me feel alive again, Emir. Even if it was temporary. Even if it was an illusion. And for that, I can never hate you."

Emir let out a shaky breath, his gaze burning into hers. "Then let me do something right for once. Let me be here for you. Let me take care of you."

Aylin looked away, the weight of the moment crushing her. "That's not how this works, Emir."

"Then tell me how it works," he begged. "Tell me what to do."

She sighed. "You can't fix me, Emir. You can't take away the past. And you can't change the fact that… I'm leaving."

His breath hitched. "Leaving?"

She nodded. "For good. I got accepted into a university in Paris. I leave in a few weeks."

The pain in his eyes was unbearable. "You weren't going to tell me?"

She smiled, a single tear slipping down her cheek. "I am now."

And just like that, the world around them felt smaller, heavier. Like it was closing in on them, demanding an answer to a question neither of them wanted to ask.

Because what do you do when the person who made you feel whole is about to become a memory?

Chapter 12 – "The Bridge Between Us"

The Bosphorus stretched infinitely beneath the night sky, waves crashing softly against the shore as if whispering their own goodbyes. The city lights reflected in the water, mirroring the chaos in Aylin's heart. This was it—the final goodbye, the last time she would stand beside Emir before leaving Istanbul behind.

She stood at the edge of the bridge, her fingers gripping the cold railing. The wind toyed with her hair, whipping strands into her face as she fought back the tears threatening to spill. The weight of the moment pressed down on her chest like an iron fist, suffocating, unbearable.

Emir stood a few feet away, hands stuffed into his pockets, his jaw clenched so tight it looked painful. He had been quiet ever since she asked him to meet her here. He always had so much to say, always had a teasing remark or a smug grin to offer. But now? Nothing. Just silence.

She took a deep breath, steadying herself before speaking.

"I'm leaving," she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper, yet it sliced through the silence like a dagger.

"I know."

Aylin turned to look at him, searching his expression for something—anything—that might make this easier. But all she found was the same restraint, the same carefully controlled mask he always wore when he was struggling with emotions he refused to name.

"Is that all you have to say?" she asked, almost desperate now. "I'm leaving for Paris. For good."

His gaze flickered to hers for a second, something dark and unreadable behind those stormy eyes. Then he looked away, exhaling sharply. "What do you want me to say, Aylin?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "Maybe that you'll miss me. That this—" she gestured between them, the invisible string tethering their souls together, "—meant something to you."

Emir finally turned to face her, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something. But then he hesitated. And that hesitation hurt more than any goodbye ever could.

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "God, you're so frustrating, Emir. You act like I'm special to you. Like I mean something more than just a friend. And then—" her voice cracked, but she pushed through, "—when it actually matters, you shut down. You push me away."

"I'm not pushing you away," he muttered, his voice tight.

"Aren't you?" she shot back. "Then why does it feel like you are?"

He ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. "Because if I say it—if I admit that I need you, that I don't want you to go—it won't change anything! You're still leaving, Aylin."

She inhaled sharply, his words hitting her like a tidal wave. "So you do need me."

Emir's shoulders slumped, defeated. He looked down at his hands, then back at her, his gaze softer now. "Of course, I need you. You were the only one who ever made sense in this goddamn world."

A tear slipped down her cheek, and Emir stepped closer, hesitating before gently wiping it away with his thumb. She leaned into his touch for the briefest moment, memorizing the way it felt. Because after tonight, she would never feel it again.

"Then tell me to stay," she whispered, barely audible.

Emir sucked in a sharp breath, and for a moment, she thought—hoped—he might actually say it. That he might fight for her the way she always wished he would.

But instead, he dropped his hand and stepped back.

"I can't," he said, his voice broken. "I won't be selfish like that."

Her heart shattered into a million pieces.

The silence between them grew heavy, unbearable. She swallowed the lump in her throat and forced herself to nod. "Then this is goodbye."

Emir looked like he wanted to say something else, but before he could, she turned around and walked away. Each step felt like another crack forming in her soul, another wound that would never fully heal.

She didn't look back.

Not even when she reached the airport, not even when she boarded the plane.

But as she sat by the window, staring at the city that had once been her entire world, she finally allowed herself to break.

The plane took off, and Istanbul disappeared beneath the clouds.

And so did the love she had left behind.

Prologue – "Some Goodbyes Are Not The End"

The call had ended. The plane had taken off. Istanbul had become a memory, but not a forgotten one.

Aylin sat by the window of her small Parisian apartment, staring at the city lights that, no matter how bright, never felt like home. The streets below buzzed with life, couples walking hand in hand, the distant sound of laughter floating through the night. And yet, her heart was still stuck in another city, another moment, another person.

She wondered if he still stood by the Bosphorus Bridge at night, watching the sea, tracing the constellations they once named together. Did he ever turn his head, hoping to see her there? Did he ever reach for his phone, only to stop himself from calling?

Memories of their last conversation echoed in her mind—the hesitation in his voice, the unspoken words that hovered between them like fragile glass waiting to shatter. She had left, and he had stayed. But did that mean it was over?

Her phone buzzed. Her heart stilled.

💬 Emir: "Aylin… do you think the city still remembers us?"

She exhaled, a soft, broken smile on her lips. Maybe time had taken them far apart, but some connections were meant to defy distance. Maybe, in the grand design of fate, their paths were not meant to stay parallel forever.

Her fingers hovered over the screen. A thousand things she wanted to say, a thousand ways she could answer. But in the end, she chose honesty.

💬 Aylin: "I think… it always will."

She hit send and closed her eyes. The city of bridges had lost one, but maybe, just maybe, it could still build another.