Ahce had no choice but to take a leave of absence. The decision weighed on her chest like a stone, yet it was the only card she could play.
Fortunately, she had accumulated fourteen days of leave credits, a small mercy amid the quiet storm unraveling inside her. She filled out the paperwork as soon as she could, packed a few essentials, and crafted a story convincing enough to keep her parents from asking too many questions.
She told them her editor needed her in City X, urgent deadlines, revisions, and the usual chaos of the publishing world. It was a believable lie, something her parents would accept without suspicion.
What she didn't tell them was the truth.
She didn't tell them she had suddenly acquired a husband.
She didn't tell them that her husband had been in an accident.
She thought the lie would contain everything neatly within its walls. But then her phone rang, and with that single vibration, her illusion began to crack.
"Mom?" she answered too quickly, her voice trembling beneath the thin veil of calm.
"You will go to City X, right?" her mother asked. Her tone was soft but steady, the kind that carried quiet authority, one that already knew the answer.
"Yes, Mom." Ahce's response was careful, cautious.
There was a pause. Then came words sharp enough to pierce through her composure.
"Can you check on Rj?"
Her breath caught in her throat. "Rj?"
"Richard," her mother clarified, her voice softening as she spoke the name.
And just like that, Ahce felt as though cold water had poured over her. The name alone ignited a rush of fragmented images. The photograph she had seen online, the comments, the haunting truth that lingered just beyond her grasp.
Richard...
How did she...
He wasn't just anyone. He was her mother's student. Her father's favorite, too.
Ahce's fingers tightened around the phone until her knuckles turned white. "Richard was in a car accident?"
"Yes. Can you check up on him?" Her mother's voice held a thread of worry. "I think you can access the hospital where he was admitted."
Ahce closed her eyes, her chest constricting.
"Okay," she murmured. The word came out hollow, detached, like something spoken from a distance.
Then her mother added, her tone dropping to something gentler yet heavier with meaning. "What stays in the past will stay there. Ahce, you're his friend too, not just his ex. I don't know what happened between you, but you're important to him, too. Take care of him for me. Lower your pride for once."
When the call ended, the silence of Ahce's apartment felt deafening.
Her parents didn't know about her memory loss. She had hidden it carefully, locking the shame away as if concealing a flaw too heavy for them to carry.
But now, her mother's words confirmed the truth she had feared. Something had indeed happened between her and Richard. Something significant enough that even her mother, who rarely intruded on her personal life, spoke of it with gravity.
I was Richard's ex?
When?
Ahce searched her memories, but the harder she tried, the more everything blurred. She remembered breaking up with Patrick in May 2024, every bitter argument, every tear, and every hour of emptiness afterward.
But beyond that, her mind became a fog. She could recall faint traces of laughter, of late nights with friends, of music and crowds and fleeting faces, but no detail stayed.
Something must have happened between her and Richard. But what? And why would her parents, always so careful, have accepted him despite the eight-year gap between them?
The next day, the sterile scent of disinfectant and the faint noise of hospital machinery surrounded her as she sat beside his bed. Richard's chest rose and fell with a steady rhythm, his complexion pale beneath the soft light. She adjusted his blanket, checked the IV line, and wiped the sweat from his brow.
Still, he didn't stir.
The air in the room was heavy, the silence almost sacred, until the door creaked open.
Ahce turned, startled.
A familiar face peeked in, wearing a grin that lit up the dim corridor beyond.
"Big sis! Why are you here?"
She blinked, her mind scrambling. "Do you… know me?"
The young man frowned, as though she had insulted him. "Are you joking? Big sis, don't prank me like that! We haven't seen each other for years, how could you forget your cute brother?"
Brother?
The word echoed in her head, sharp and foreign.
She had only ever had one sworn brother, Nazaree. That was it. So who was this young man, and why did he look at her with such certainty, such warmth?
"I don't remember," she admitted, her voice fragile.
His playful expression melted into disbelief. "Big sis… are you saying you have amnesia? That's impossible!"
Ahce averted her gaze, shame burning beneath her skin.
"Can you tell me about the past?" she asked quietly. "Let's talk somewhere else."
He hesitated, torn between teasing and concern. Finally, he nodded. "Alright, Big sis. I'll tell you everything you forgot."
But there was a shadow in his eyes, a subtle warning she couldn't quite decipher.
Outside, they found a bench beneath a cluster of acacia trees, their yellow blossoms trembling in the faint breeze. The scent of hospital disinfectant mingled with the sweetness of the blooms. The young man returned from the vending machine carrying a paper cup of coffee and a small slice of cake.
"Here," he said, handing them to her with an easy smile that suggested this was routine, something they used to share.
Ahce took the cup, their fingers brushing briefly. The warmth of the coffee seeped into her palms, grounding her.
"When did I meet you?" she asked after a long silence.
He studied her face, searching for a hint of recognition. When he found none, his smile faltered.
"Summer of 2024," he said finally, his voice softer now. "Big sis, you really don't remember?"
She shook her head slowly, staring at the rising steam from her cup. "I remember nothing."
His brows drew together. "Did Aunt know?"
"Aunt?" she echoed, confused, then realized he meant her mother.
"Yeah..."
"No," she said, her voice low. "I never told them anything."