Hakan resisted the urge to smile at the vibrant sound of her laughter and instead just rolled his eyes: as if her comments, rather than amusing him, exasperated him. "I see. So you’re going to be that kind of woman who’s had six husbands, each of them dying in increasingly bizarre circumstances?“ It was so strange - not just having breakfast with Aylin, but how easy it was to banter, how comfortable it was to genuinely enjoy her company. Not as if Hakan was going to acknowledge it out loud. Though there was a microscopic smile on his lips as he took another sip of coffee. ”You always wear me out, wife.“ But there was no bite in his tone. ”Rest assured, though, I will always find the strength to leave you satisfied.“ At least in bed. Or in whatever corner of the house he decided to mark her that time. He blinked once, thankfully putting down his coffee to focus on the bread as Aylin suddenly offered to cook him lunch. The animosity between them was long gone, the man had to at least admit that, but from there to… ”You want to cook for me.“ He recapped slowly. He looked as if he’s been slapped, not taking his eyes off her. ”And you want to play with my daughter.“ A cloud passed over Hakan’s face. Aylin had asked in the same way you might ask someone why they wore shoes instead of trainers. Just like that - an easy question that expected an easy answer. ”That’s a ridiculous question.“ He bristled at the intrusion, irritated at Aylin for spoiling a near perfect morning. ”You know how I feel about that,“ the man’s voice stayed cold - the once playful tone now hard and icy, ”I don’t want you spending time with her.“ He was being more obnoxious and abrupt than he’d intended. But Hakan would not apologize for it. ”Because you’ll leave, and I’ll be the one who has to answer later where her mom is.“ As she became more fluent with her words, Hasret was asking more and more questions. The absence of a mother figure was, and the man feared, would always be a constant: ”Stop trying to play house, Demir, will you? Or do I have to remind you that we are not a real marriage?“
“Depends on how likable the husband is. I might get lucky and settle down with husband number two,” Aylin replied, a smirk on her lips. This felt really nice, just teasing him, talking with him like this, despite the fact that they were used to doing it when they no longer had clothes on. “Good. Because I have plans for you later,” she added, letting out a satisfied hum as she took a sip from her own coffee. Aylin could feel it, though. The change in the atmosphere, the look in his eyes, the words that made her blood run cold. The smile on her lips immediately dropped and she carefully placed her cup of coffee down, to hide the fact that her hands were shaking from the sudden change, as she merely stared at Hakan, her husband, trying her hardest not to show the hurt on her face. For a few beats that felt like an eternity, Aylin kept quiet, letting him say what he needed to say, every word hitting harder, only speaking when she was sure her voice wouldn’t shake with the promise of tears. “I don’t need you to remind me of anything, Hakan. If this marriage is starting to feel like such a hindrance for you, my dear husband--” She paused, making sure the venom could be heard in her cold words, allowing her hurt to twist her features into something resembling disgust when just a few minutes ago, she had been calling him her husband in a completely different tone. “Then that’ll be the first thing I’ll take care of when the storm passes and I get to leave here,” Aylin said, the finality of her words leaving the air around them heavy. The plans she had made for tonight, for tomorrow, for the day after that and the day after that going up in flames with the words she couldn’t take back. She didn’t even know at that point if she wanted to.
Stupid, she thought to herself. She had allowed herself to be cocooned in this belief that everything between them was alright, that they could just keep doing whatever it was they were doing without having to deal with the consequences. Months. That’s how long the marriage had been going on at this point, and before today, Aylin had made no move, said no word about wanting it all to end, and it was like the glass was shattering right before her eyes and she cursed herself for letting herself believe she was strong enough to not let anything he did or say bother her. Somehow, somewhere along the way, the walls she had built came crumbling down bit by bit and Aylin scrambled to build them back up again. “I’m not trying to be her mother. I’m not that fucking stupid. The only reason I wanted to is because I’m stuck here with you and I was trying to make the most out of a shitty situation,” she said, her voice clipped as she looked away from him, pushing her chair back so she can stand, unable to stay in this room with Hakan any longer. “What was I supposed to do, huh? Just ignore her completely? Would that have been better?” She asked, fixing her confused glare at him. “You can cook yourself lunch and don’t bother calling for me. I lost my appetite,” Aylin said, shaking her head as she started to walk away. “You know,” she started to say as she turned back around, the anger and indignation in her eyes making way for the hurt that she felt. She shouldn’t have felt surprised. She’d been tossed aside her entire life by the people she thought would never do it -- her parents. Why should she be surprised when someone who didn’t even like her to begin with did the exact same thing? “I was truly starting to believe you weren’t such an asshole,” Aylin said with a scoff of laughter. “But I guess some things never change. Don’t worry, Hakan. I’ll get out of your hair as soon as I’m able to and you can go back to doing whatever the fuck you want.”
