107

Later that afternoon, they stepped into the streets of the town. The sun was gentle, casting golden light over stone buildings and cobbled walkways. Turkey had an old-world charm that took her by surprise; sun-bleached walls covered in climbing vines, the distant call to prayer echoing softly in the air, and small shops selling spices and handmade crafts.

Ioannis walked beside her, hands in his pockets, occasionally pointing things out; an ancient archway here, a mosque with sweeping domes there, but mostly, he let the silence stretch.

Yalda appreciated the effort, but she didn’t know what to do with the quiet anymore.

Her fingers twisted the hem of her sweater. “You’re different here,” she said after a while.

He glanced at her. “How so?”

“Quieter. More…” she searched for the word, “settled.”

He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “This place has a way of humbling you. It reminds you that life existed long before you, and it’ll go on long after. Everything we think is urgent becomes small here.”

Yalda didn’t know how to respond to that. So she just nodded.
"And, I'm giving you some time to make peace with your thoughts."

They arrived at a modest home nestled at the end of a narrow street, ivy spilling over its white walls. As Ioannis knocked, she took a deep breath and tried not to think too hard.

The door opened, and a woman with glowing olive skin, curly black hair tucked into a loose bun, and expressive eyes lit up.

“Hey you!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him.

Yalda blinked at the sudden display of affection, she seemed so vibrant, so full of life, and she hugged him like a.... brother.

“Noulifa,” he said with a laugh, hugging her back.

“You didn’t say you were bringing someone.” Noulifa stepped back and eyed Yalda with interest and something far too warm to be threatening. She wasnt like the bunch of ladies that flocked around Alexander, she didn't have that underlying meanness to her. “You must be Yalda. He mentioned you.”

He did?

Yalda smiled politely. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You’re so pretty,” she said, ushering them inside without missing a beat. “Come in, come in. Aslan is asleep, but my husband is out back with the grill.”

The scent of roasted spices and grilled meat filled the comfortable house. The interior was cozy, lived-in. There were toys in a corner of the living room, framed photos on the walls, and books stacked everywhere.

Yalda sat awkwardly at the edge of a couch while Noulifa breezed through the room, bringing tea, snacks, and warm chatter. She talked to Ioannis about work, people she didn't know, and how her son, Aslan always asked of him.

"He's like five now, yeah?" Ioannis asked, smiling.

"Six." She replied, and he smiled even more.

“Ioannis never brings people here,” Noulifa said, seating herself with a flourish. “And by people, I mean women.”

Yalda laughed, nervously. “Well, I didn’t exactly plan to be here.”

She was uncomfortable here though it was warm and cozy, but what if she had misjudged Noulifa? What if she ended up being mean? She truly couldn't deal with that at the moment. Plus, she felt out of place here.
Noulifa paused and studied her, she gave her a look filled with quiet understanding before smiling warmly. “Life rarely goes according to plan.”

Yalda nodded. She agreed fully.

Ioannis asked for a photobook and it wasn't long before they were looking at pictures. There was a photo of Noulifa with a child on her lap, both of them laughing under the sun. Another with her husband, his arms wrapped around her as they stood in front of a market stall.

A framed drawing in crayon, presumably from their son.

Yalda’s heart clenched with a quiet ache she hadn’t expected.

She could almost picture it, her own life, different than the one she’d lived. A little boy with her eyes and Alexander’s smile. A husband who adored her. A house filled with laughter instead of silence. Warm meals instead of cold boardroom dinners. The simple, sweet normalcy of it.

For a fleeting moment, she wanted that life more than anything else in the world.

Not wealth. Not power. Just peace. A family. She blinked the thought away and sipped her tea.

“You’re quiet,” Noulifa noted gently.

“I’m just… still taking everything in,” She replied with a soft smile. "You have a beautiful home."

"Why, thank you. You're so sweet."

When they moved out to the back garden where Noulifa’s husband was manning a small grill, Ioannis stayed close but didn’t hover. She appreciated that. He wasn’t trying to insert himself into her discomfort. He just let her exist, even when she didn’t know how to.

"They're such a lovely couple." She said quietly.

He nodded.

"They are. They both left their families to be with each other, to be at peace." He told her. "The wealth, power, expectations and people, they couldn't deal with it anymore."

Yalda stared, awed by their strength and simplicity.

Lunch was delicious. Grilled lamb, fresh salads, roasted vegetables with spices that made her tongue sing. She found herself laughing at something Noulifa’s husband said, and Ioannis shot her a small smile from across the table, like he was proud of her for simply being present.

Maybe he was.

After the meal, Noulifa pulled her aside while the men cleared the table.

“He likes you,” she said, no preamble.

Yalda looked at her, startled. “I… don’t know what to do with that.”

“You don’t need to do anything. Just don’t run from it.”

“That seems to be my thing lately.”

Noulifa chuckled, resting a hand on Yalda’s shoulder. “I don’t know what your story is, but whatever happened, it didn’t destroy you. You’re here. That counts for something.”

Yalda swallowed past the lump in her throat. It was easy to think it didn't destroy her because she had learned to put on a facade like Alexander, if only she knew how shattered she truly was. "Thank you.”

By the time they left, the sun had begun to dip. As they walked back through the town, she felt… quieter. Still thoughtful, but lighter somehow.

“I liked her,” she said eventually.

“I knew you would.”

“She’s happy,” Yalda murmured, as if to herself.

Ioannis didn’t respond right away. “She’s fought for that happiness. Nothing about her life has been simple. But she chose to stay and build something anyway.”

Yalda nodded, her thoughts far away.

He looked at her. “Would you want that someday?”

“I....don’t know.” She turned her gaze up to the darkening sky. She wasn't even sure she deserved that. She has done too many horrible things to hope for anything good at this point.

“Fair enough."

She looked at him, then away again. “Thank you."

He arched a brow at her, an unspoken question.

"For everything." She clarified.

They kept walking, silence stretching again. But this time, it wasn’t heavy. It was tho
ughtful.

She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. But for the first time in a long while, she didn’t dread the idea of it.