Chapter 34Emir

Chapter 34 Emir

I scooped the last bit of horse poop off the stables floor and threw it on the wheelbarrow, leaning on my shovel. Molly nudged my shoulder and circled me, and I rubbed her mane. She was acting a lot more affectionately. Her eye looked better. Maybe the pain had made her skittish. I could certainly understand that as I rolled back my shoulders and raised my eyebrows, noting the absence of pain. It was amazing what fresh air and peace and quiet could do to your body. As well as falling in love, added a whispering voice inside me. Even if the last one would bring more pain down the road. I’d exchange the tension headache for a heartache.

I never thought I’d feel so emotional about scooping up excrement, but it was my last day on the farm. The last workday before the party. Before all the people arrived and my inner turmoil was drowned by the noise and chaos of celebration. I couldn’t have been less of a party person if I’d tried, but I didn’t want to ruin it for everyone else.

The week had been swallowed by responsibilities. My parents had returned from their trip, forcing me to rent a car and drive them around Napier, as well as hang around Aria’s parents’ place to translate for them, leaving out some of the stupid things they said to keep the peace. It was the least I could do for my brother. So far, everyone seemed to get along. My parents were sufficiently in love with New Zealand scenery and possessed enough average quality photos of mountains and lakes to torture our relatives back in Istanbul for years to come.

I’d slept three agonizing nights in Aria’s parents’ guest room, my legs hanging off the end of a short mattress, before I’d laid out my excuses for why I needed to spend the last day and night on Janie’s farm. She needed help with the farm chores. The trellis on the deck was still unfinished (it wasn’t) and I was tall enough to reach for things from the top of the cabinets, saving valuable time. I don’t know if they’d bought any of my excuses, but Mom understood the pain of sleeping poorly, so she let me go and Aria’s mom gave me a ride, dropping me off on her way to work.

Janie had been gone most of the day yesterday, driving Josh to visit the school he would transfer to, buying a new uniform and then reuniting him with his best friend. She’d given me an update late at night over the phone, sounding both happy and sad. I lay in bed for a long time after that, aching from the distance between us and the terrible mattress underneath me, wondering how badly it would hurt once we were on opposite sides of the world. Finally, the cooler night air lulled me to sleep, and I dreamed of us, together.

It had to be possible, I told myself as I dumped the pile of horse manure on a compost heap. But I had to talk to her, in private, before the party, and time was running out.

I glanced up at the house, watching for signs of life. It was 9:30 a.m. Janie must have been up already. I’d stopped at the stables to check on Molly—a habit I couldn’t shake. And seeing her floor hadn’t been cleaned, I’d got to work, giving myself a moment to think.

The house seemed quiet, but I noticed movement inside the greenhouse. A flash of peachy orange. I walked closer until I caught her scooting between the strawberry plants, slipping ripe fruit into the pockets of her bathrobe. Seeing her in that robe reminded me of the moment in the forest and I froze, waiting for her to notice me. She looked so sad. Defeated.

This was not how I wanted to leave her. I had to go away, but I needed us to have hope. I brushed wayward bits of straw and hay off my slacks and shook my shirt. I needed some farm appropriate clothes. I’d already destroyed two shirts and one pair of pants.

She jumped to her feet, letting out a shriek as she saw me. “Emir! Oh my God, you scared me!”

“I’m sorry,” I took a tentative step closer. “Are you okay?”

She stared at me, breathing heavily, her hand resting on her rising and falling chest. “I don’t know.” For a moment, her gaze flicked from the strawberries to her bare feet, then back to me. “I mean, I’ll have to be.”

The hot and humid greenhouse air enveloped us into its suffocating cloud. Everything smelled of strawberry. I picked off one particularly red and ripe one, offering it to her. “Your pockets aren’t big enough.”

I’d taken on watering the plants twice daily but had missed the last couple of days. The soil looked dry.

Janie’s laugh was a little wobbly and nervous. “I forgot to bring a container.” She looked at her feet again. “I forgot to wear shoes.”

“You’ve had a lot to deal with lately.” I guided her out of the greenhouse. It was too hot to think.

“I didn’t know you were coming back before the party. When did you arrive?”

“A little while ago. I left my bag by the back door and went to checked on Molly.”

Her face fell. “Oh, Molly! Yes, I haven’t cleaned the—”

“It’s done,” I said, catching her by her bathrobe as she lunged towards the staples. “All cleaned. Let’s go.”

“What? You shoveled shit in clothes like that?” She shook her head, scanning my outfit.

“Most of my clothes are like this. I didn’t exactly come to New Zealand to work on a farm.”

“And it doesn’t make sense to get a new wardrobe for a temporary job,” she finished, her mouth a straight line.

We stopped by the small orchard, under a plum tree heavy with ripening fruit. “Nothing about this is temporary. Or a job. When something changes the course of your life, it’s a forever thing. You’re my forever thing, Janie. I’ll never be the same.”

She looked at me from under wet eye lashes. “In a good way?”

“In a very good way,” I confirmed.

“I… I love that. But it doesn’t mean we can build a life together. I can’t leave, and I can’t ask you to drop everything, tear up that flight ticket and stay… can I?” She blinked and tears spilled, uncertainty and hope flickering behind the gloss of emotion. “I mean, if you could imagine that I’d share everything I have. It’s not much, but I think we could have enough. We could live off the land. Maybe we could sell that documentary and work on it together. I downloaded the footage on my laptop yesterday and started playing around with it. There’re some compelling shots, especially yours. They’re beautiful, Emir. You could build a career as a photographer…”

My stomach dropped. “Janie. I want to be with you, but I can’t be your farmhand or photographer. I’ve inherited a business. There’s so much inventory, these treasures my father’s buried in there… He’s a hoarder and not very organized. And I know there’s so much potential. I can’t walk away from it.”

I couldn’t walk away from my chance of having something to my name. Something tangible, measurable. I couldn’t come to her empty-handed. She deserved so much more.

“I understand.” She wouldn’t look me in the eye anymore.

“But it doesn’t mean we won’t see each other ever again. It doesn’t mean I’m giving up on us.”

“Emir. I can’t do long distance. I can’t do this.”

“You don’t have to. I’ll take my chances.” As much as I hated the idea of her meeting someone else, I couldn’t ask her to wait. I could only hope.

Her eyes burned with fire and hands trembled. “What do you mean? You can’t keep up a one-sided, long-distance relationship. You need to go home and move on. We both have to move on.”

“No. It’s my choice. I’ll be yours, even if you can’t be mine. I’ll turn that shop around, make it profitable and sell it. I’ll make sure my parents are okay. Cem will help. He’ll be there over this summer, maybe even longer. And then I’ll come back. I’ll set up business here and—”

“Emir. You’re talking about something that can take years. Is it even in your hands? I’ve been reading more about the economy in Turkey, and it sounds dire. Be honest with me. Be honest with yourself.”

I had to meet her gaze. Those bottomless, blue-grey eyes I couldn’t hide from. “It won’t be easy, but no one’s more committed than I am. If I set my mind to it, I’ll make it happen. In two years, I took my brother from a B-list soap actor to an international star. He had a shot at something big. He blew it, but I made it happen. When my father was still in charge, I couldn’t change the course of the antique shop. But now, it’s mine and I can turn things around. I can make something of myself, build something that’s mine. And then I’ll come back, I promise.”

Her sigh was so deep it shook her whole body. “Do what you must do, Emir. I understand. I never thought I could keep you.”

“But—”

She raised a finger onto my lips. “No. There’s nothing more we can say. You need to take that flight and when you do, it’s over. The only question is, what do we do with the little time we have left?”

I saw the blaze in her eyes, blue flames licking dilated pupils. I cupped her face, tracing my thumb along her jawline. She was right. We couldn’t let the sadness of our uncertain future steal away these moments. I had to store them like nuts for the winter. I would need every little memory to carry me through the next few months. I refused to think it could take years.

“Where’s Josh? Still sleeping?”

“I think he’s up. I left some breakfast out for him. But I’ll drive him to town this afternoon and he’ll stay a couple of nights at his friend’s house. He doesn’t want to be here for the party.”

I could imagine that.

“So, we have the house to ourselves tonight?” My body woke up at the thought.

I grabbed the belt of her open bathrobe and yanked her against me. The short silk pajama felt cool against my chest, until I felt her body heat coming through. I buried my face into her neck, inhaling her scent, my lips caressing her collarbone. The things I would do…

“That’s right.” I heard the smile in her voice, punctuated by a sniff. “I need everything you can give me.”

I kissed her, long and deep. It was instant. That hungry, electric crashing of tongues that triggered an erection I couldn’t be seen in public with. The way I craved her was unsettling.

With great effort, I released her. “Well, in that case, I’m going to take a long nap.”

She licked her lips, panting, cheeks rosy and hot. “Whatever you need. Be my guest.”

And that’s what I was. Her guest.

I’d be more than that, one day. I’d make my fortune and come back. I’d be worthy of her. But I had to make sure she didn’t forget me. I had to give my future self a chance.

I walked away, letting the soft, peachy bathrobe belt slip between my fingers, leaving the end of it resting against the ground as she stood there, arms hanging by her sides, a startled smile on her face.