From the Author:
After Merve and Büşra left, Furkan took Rumeysa inside. His thoughts wandered to the same questions yet again—no matter what he did, this girl kept becoming a part of his life. She shouldn't have stayed in his mind. As much as he let himself feel, one thing always held him back: his Lord. He whispered prayers of forgiveness and sat at a table he had picked in the café. Rumeysa followed and sat across from him, visibly nervous. This was something she never thought possible, yet here it was—they were about to embark on a journey together. Rumeysa had liked Furkan for as long as she could remember, though her feelings were far beyond just liking him.
"What would you like to drink?" she asked, fearing her voice might tremble and betray her nerves. She didn't want to embarrass herself in front of Furkan.
"Plain coffee will do," Furkan replied, deliberately avoiding eye contact.
"Okay. Excuse me!" Furkan raised his hand to call a waiter, who approached quickly.
"Yes, sir?" The waiter noticed Furkan rubbing his forehead, as though trying to gather his thoughts.
"One plain coffee and a tea, please," he ordered. The waiter jotted down the drinks and left.
Once again, Furkan was lost in his thoughts. Should he wait for the drinks to arrive, or should he get straight to the point? He didn't want to drag this out any longer.
"Rumeysa, I don't think we need to prolong this."
Rumeysa's heart skipped a beat. She didn't want to prolong it either—she wanted clarity and commitment without delay.
"I agree. My dad even talked to me about it yesterday. He said if it's going to happen, let it happen."
Furkan froze momentarily. This wasn't what he meant.
"I think you've misunderstood me. I'm really sorry, but I can't do this. I don't want to keep your family waiting either."
Rumeysa couldn't believe her ears. His rejection stunned her. She felt a sting in her chest as her tear-filled eyes met Furkan's.
"But I don't understand. Why?"
Furkan didn't want to hurt her.
"Do you really need a reason?"
For Rumeysa, there was no reason this shouldn't happen. She wanted to know the cause.
"Of course, there must be a reason."
Before Furkan could answer, the waiter returned with their drinks.
"Rumeysa, I've never seen you that way. The only reason I agreed to this meeting was to avoid upsetting my mother. I thought you felt the same, so I felt at ease. But honestly, my feelings haven't changed. I still don't see you in that way."
Rumeysa had reached her limit. She felt it was her turn to speak.
"It's that girl, isn't it?"
Furkan was caught off guard. He didn't immediately understand what she meant.
"I'm sorry, who?"
Rumeysa's eyes burned with anger.
"You love her, don't you?"
Furkan felt the conversation was heading toward an unpleasant direction.
"Rumeysa, who are you talking about?"
"Merve." Tears began streaming down her face. Furkan was startled to hear Merve's name.
"Please don't cry. I'm sorry—"
Rumeysa interrupted through her sobs.
"Don't deny it. Did you think I didn't notice? She stayed at your house twice, she watches you from the wall outside your home every morning. And during that last incident, I realized it for sure. It's because of her that you don't want me, isn't it? Even when I was there, you couldn't stop looking at each other! Furkan Solmaz, you and Merve—" she paused to gather her courage, "—if it weren't for others, you'd be shouting your love for each other from the doorstep!"
Her voice rose dramatically with her final words.
"Watch your tone, Rumeysa," Furkan said firmly, though he tried to remain composed.
"Am I the one who's out of line here?" she retorted bitterly.
Furkan realized it was time to end the conversation.
"I don't think there's any point in continuing this discussion. I was kind enough to explain things to you, but you've left me no choice. Listen carefully: don't ever come near me again. I didn't want it to come to this, but you've pushed me here. I'm sorry."
Neither of them noticed that someone else had overheard their conversation. Büşra, realizing she had forgotten her phone on the table, had returned and inadvertently caught the entire exchange. Stunned, she quietly retrieved her phone and left to rejoin Merve, pretending she hadn't heard anything.
Furkan left the table, paid the bill, and got into his car. His mind was consumed by Rumeysa's accusations.
"Is she really watching me? Why? God, protect me from these temptations. Help me, Lord, keep me safe from Satan's whispers!"
He pulled his car over and stepped out, catching a glimpse of the backseat. Merve's stammering voice suddenly echoed in his mind. A faint, bittersweet smile crossed his lips as he closed the door. These feelings had been in his heart for so long. They were wrong—hopeless, even—but still, he couldn't stop a seed of hope from sprouting deep inside him.
"Lord, guide my heart. You brought her into my life. If that day I hadn't sought solace in You, we would've never met. I asked You for peace, to help me forget my pain, and You gave me something that feels like peace itself. But I must not find peace in what is forbidden. If I seek it in sin, peace will forever be forbidden to me. Yet it feels as if my peace is hidden in her smile. God, what am I saying? Furkan, pull yourself together. Lord, please keep me on the path You want me to walk."
He stopped speaking, feeling more exhausted than ever. All he knew was that his Lord never created anything in vain. Comforted by this thought, he began walking toward the mosque. He knew that when he stood before his Creator, everything would fall into place. True peace lay there. Furkan's only aim was to feel the same peace he experienced in prayer at every moment of his life. That was all he asked for, and he believed it had already been granted to him.
At the most serene hour of the morning, Furkan woke up to the sound of the Divine Call. He got dressed and stepped outside, heading to the mosque for the dawn prayer. Knowing that Uncle Ahmet was likely at his shop, he decided to pick him up as well. Ever since Uncle Ahmet had lost his wife, he missed her dearly. He found it unbearable to stay in the house filled with her memories and instead spent most of his time in his shop.
As Furkan approached the shop, a shiver ran from the roots of his hair to the tips of his toes. At first, he dismissed it as the cold weather, but he soon realized his breath had quickened, and he couldn't make sense of the strange feelings stirring within him.
Peering through the door, he called out, "Peace be upon you, Uncle Ahmet."
In that moment, Furkan's gaze involuntarily shifted to the girl standing nearby. He froze in place, overwhelmed by the sheer difficulty of his trial. Their eyes met only for an instant, but it was enough to make him think he needed to ask his Lord for forgiveness a thousand times for the mistake.
"And peace be upon you, Furkan, my boy," Uncle Ahmet replied, snapping him out of his thoughts.
"Aren't you coming? We'll be late for prayer."
"I'm coming, I'm coming. Just a moment. Daughter, you had brought the money earlier."
Once again, Furkan made the same mistake—he looked at her. This time, his gaze lingered longer. He knew he shouldn't look, but he couldn't understand why he felt so weak. He was supposed to be stronger than this. Merve abruptly left, just as stunned as he was. Without answering her friends' questions, she retrieved the money from her car and returned to the shop, leaving it on the counter before turning to leave in haste.
"Wait, daughter! You forgot your change," Uncle Ahmet called after her.
Merve stopped in her tracks but couldn't summon the strength to turn back. She replied without facing them, "No need, keep it…" and walked away.
"Glory be to Allah! Never mind, I'll put the extra money in the donation box at the mosque. Let's go, Furkan. We're already running late."
Furkan nodded silently. What could he say? He was still overwhelmed by the emotions gripping him. When they arrived at the mosque, Furkan recited supplications of forgiveness and stood in the presence of his Lord. After the prayer, he raised his hands in supplication.
"Oh Allah, I don't know what has happened to her, but guide her to the right path. Protect her from falling into the clutches of Satan and save her from being a slave to her desires, my Lord."
Once again, Furkan sought refuge in his Lord. Who else was there to turn to? He didn't know what was happening, but his only wish was for her to grow closer to her Creator. His heartbeat was just as intense as it had been on the first day. He now knew for certain—she was a gift from Allah to him. And in alignment with Allah's approval, he knew what he needed to do.