I snapped out of my thoughts, tears flowing down my cheeks, devoid of any escape plan from this relentless despair. All my strength, efforts, and faith seemed obliterated once again, forcing me to find a way to save myself, yet clueless about where to begin. I hugged the fluffy pillows and fell into a deep sleep.
Baris retreated to his room with a satisfied smile. I discovered that Joy couldn't handle spicy food, and the memory of her struggle brought a hearty laugh to Baris's mind. He summoned his trusted chef, Mr. Irshad, a 50-year-old Sri Lankan man who had been Baris's culinary maestro for two decades. Irshad, well-versed in Baris's culinary preferences, received swift instructions. Two minutes later, Baris, exhausted from the day, drifted into a deep slumber.
Morning dawned with an unexpected visitor as Baris was jolted awake by his doorbell at 9:30 am. To his surprise, it was his imposing grandfather, Master Coj, accompanied by bodyguards. Baris, with a mix of reverence and trepidation, confronted his grandfather, wondering about the purpose of this early visit.
"What are you doing here, old man?" Baris questioned, a hint of tension in his voice.
"Good morning to you too, son," the man replied nonchalantly. Dealing with this man proved to be challenging.
"It's too early in the morning, Grandpa, you should be resting in your bed now," Baris urged, attempting to comprehend the situation.
"I am fine, thank you for asking. And yes, I am happy to see you too, son!" The old man continued, answering his own questions, paying little heed to his son. He proceeded directly to the dining room where breakfast was being prepared. Baris, feeling increasingly desperate, followed him, unsure of what else to say.
"Where is she?" Master Coj inquired, catching Baris off guard.
"Who?" Baris responded, feigning ignorance.
"I cannot leave my bed in this cold weather to just come and see an ugly fellow, Baris. I might be old, but I am not gay. I came here to see the chocolate beauty who will soon be my daughter!" He declared, fixing his gaze on his grandson.
"I might be anything else, but ugly is none of it," Baris argued.
"And yet you've been unable to attract women for 32 years!" Master Coj retorted with a grin.
"Women dump their men just for looking at me. Others will go to the length of killing each other just to get to me," Baris bragged.
"Yet at thirty-two, you are single," Master Coj cut him off.
"Maybe I am just following the footsteps of my role models. How long have you been single again, Grandpa?" Baris provocatively prodded, but Mr. Coj seemed oblivious, mesmerized by the view of someone from the guest room's direction.
I woke up early the next day, my face reflecting the aftermath of the previous evening. The makeup, once flawlessly applied, had succumbed to my tears, leaving streaks of black mascara on my cheeks. Hastily removing the wig that had slipped down my forehead, I sought refuge in the bathroom. A long shower revived my senses, followed by the application of moisturizer to my skin. I combed my hair into an Afro ponytail and added a touch of foundation, shaping my eyebrows with gel and applying lip gloss.
Opening the closet revealed a pleasant surprise – an array of new dresses and shoes perfectly tailored to my size. Choosing a long peach dress with a v-neck and a ribbon at the waist, I marveled at the elegant simplicity in the mirror. Pairing it with beige flat shoes that complemented my silver necklace, I lingered in the room, momentarily escaping the weight of my troubles.
Deciding to venture out, I approached the dining room, only to encounter two men engrossed in conversation. The first, unmistakably my kidnapper, and the other, an older man with silver hair. Uncertain, I hesitated, caught in the silver-haired man's sharp gaze, who seemed surprised. He exchanged words with my kidnapper, maintaining his focus on me. As my captor turned to look at me, my heart skipped a beat.
Frozen under the intensity of his gaze, my kidnapper gracefully approached. Surprising me, he took my hand, raised it to his face, and kissed the back of my arms. Stunned, I felt immobilized as he bent down to hug me, whispering, "Meet Mr. Coj, my grandfather. You are my fiancée; we've been dating for six months, and you live in Diyarbakir. Be a good girl."
With a swift transition from his girlfriend act, he pulled back, smiled, and led me to the table, introducing me to Mr. Coj.
"Mr. Coj, unlike you, I am not single. Meet my fiancée, Joy. Joy, this is my grandfather."
"Good morning, sir. It's nice to meet you," I said, attempting a smile. I bent slightly as a sign of respect, my hand extended in front of me, my kidnapper gently holding my shoulder, silently urging me to calm down.
The old man rose, a warm smile adorning his face as he kissed my forehead and enveloped me in a hug. He continued, "Oh my God, you have no idea how nice it is to meet you," brushing my hair gently with his hands. "Please, have a seat. Let's have breakfast." My kidnapper courteously pulled out a chair for me, taking his place beside me. The chill in the air sent shivers through me at this point.