Ayse Teksen
B.U. Now that he was gone, everything seemed to be restored for now. She had tried so hard to convince him to leave her apartment. He was insistent, though. He kept saying that he loved her and that he was the one who deserved her love back. After dinner, Serdar had dropped her home. She had spent the whole night explaining to him that she saw a friend in him and nothing more. He was attractive, yes, and it would be so nice to have him in her arms. She could imagine the jealous looks of the other women when the two would be passing by hand in hand. Her parents adored him, too. There was literally nothing wrong with him. She was the one who was wrong. He had to understand this. All night, she was busy listing those things to her desperate lover. She was wearing her favorite red dress tonight with Christian Louboutin sandals. She knew she was going to meet Serdar tonight. She wanted to impress him. She liked being the one in control. Getting men’s attention and relentlessly refusing them was one of the few things that made her life enjoyable. She convinced herself she had done the right thing. Serdar had left her apartment with crumbs of hope in his heart. Shutting the doors forever was for no one’s good, especially hers. When she closed the door behind Serdar, she let out a deep breath. She went through the dark corridor into her bedroom, turned on the light on the dresser, and got in front of the mirror on the left side of the room. She started to undress. First, she took off her ruby earrings, then her golden bracelet, which had her initials on it: a B and an U, a gift from her deceased mother. Then she took off her shoes and tossed them to the other corner of the room. She let the red dress slide down her shoulders. With the red dress, so did her confidence. She was shaking a bit. This was no surprise to her. The chilly weather of this late September night finding its way into the room through the open window was not the one to blame. She was told this was probably due to some psychological reaction she was having to her situation. She sighed and moved her small hands up to her head. She stroked her own hair, got closer to the mirror and leaned into it. She took her chin in her hands and stared into her dark eyes to catch a glimpse of joy. There was none. In a sudden fury, she moved back, pulled her hair, and all of it came to her hands in a bulk. She tossed it at the mirror, turned away and went to the window,
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