And he again hit her.

Nothing special to her. She had gotten used to his beatings over their three years of marriage. She was in pain, but she wasn't strong enough to stand for herself. She never did that.

Zerah stood up on her wobbly feet and headed to the bathroom. As she stopped in front of the mirror, her eyes fell on her bruised face.

She wasn't allowed to leave home because of these bruises. Her abusive husband was too much concerned about his image.

She took first aid box from the cabinet and began aiding her injuries.

No matter how much aid she did, the scars and bruises won't fade away without medical attention. But again, her abusive husband was too much concerned about his image.

BOOM!

All of a sudden, she heard a loud noise from outside. Noise of a gunshot.

Her heartbeat rose in fear. She was contemplating on whether go out or stay in the bathroom. She chose the later one. And stayed rooted to her place for the next fifteen minutes. Drops of sweat were sliding down her temple. The utter silence was haunting her. Even if she could hear nothing, except for the eery sound of silence, she knew someone was waiting for her outside. She had this gut feeling.

But the humidity was making her nauseous. Her head was spinning in all directions. And darkness was momentarily blurring her vision. She was about to black out. If she blacked out there, her health will only get worse. Her husband won't bother helping her, he will only increase her pain. So she took a deep breath and with remaining strength walked out of the bathroom. She took quick steps towards bed and fell down on the mattress. As her head met the soft sheets, she felt some sort of comfort. Her eyes closed on their own.

Now she felt a bit better. She slowing opened her eyes. She looked past the room's door that was left ajar.

“Blood...”

The floor was painted in bloody shades.

She jerked up and took calculative steps towards the door. As she neared the door, her husband's dead body came into her view. She slowly moved forward towards him.

She didn't scream or cry. She felt almost numb. Looking at his dead body, she felt calm. The thought of becoming a widow didn't bother her. At least, she won't face abuse anymore. She was thankful to whoever killed her husband. Because he had earned it by making her life a living hell.

But who killed him?

And suddenly she felt someone standing behind her. She slowly turned around. Now she was scared for herself.

Her eyes met with a masked man. He was tall and muscular. From his physique, he seemed very familiar. And when she looked into his brown eyes, yes, he was familiar.

But before she could connect the dots or even be happy to meet him after so long, something sting the side of her neck. And she blacked out, falling next to her dead husband.

🍁🍂🍁🍂🍁

Zerah opened her eyes after a long sleep. She yawned lazily and sat straight on the bed. Her eyes moved around the room she was present in. It wasn't her home. She was somewhere else.

Yet she wasn't scared.

First, because her tormentor was dead. And second, it was Him who brought her here.

But she was curious.

She got up from the bed, she felt dizzy so sat back down and waited for the black dots in front of her eyes to disappear.

When she felt normal, she stood up again, this time more carefully.

The room... the suite, was enormous and of her taste. Shades of white and blue adorned the articles and furniture, giving it a Turkish vibe.

And then it clicked her mind, “I am in Turkey.”

To confirm the doubt she moved to the curtained window. Pushing aside the blue curtains, her eyes noticed the vast water bodies. At a distance, a Turkish flag was flaring at the top of a tower.

“Mehraba.”

The voice startled her.

She turned around and saw a young woman with a tray of food in her hands.

“I am Derya, caretaker of the house.”

Thanks to the fact that Zerah had done her degree in criminal psychology from Istanbul, she could understand Turkish language very well.

“Mehraba, Derya. I am Zerah.”

“Here's your breakfast. The wardrobe has been updated a few hours ago, you may freshen up and eat. But restrain yourself to this room only. You need rest.”

“I have a question.”

“Please ask.”

“Where is he?”

Derya hesitated, as if trying to find a reply that reveals the least about the said He.

“He will come to see you soon. That's all I am allowed to tell you.”

“Alright, you may leave.”

Derya nodded and after putting the tray on a side table, she left.

Zerah moved to the closet, and yes, it was full of clothes, accessories and makeup. She pulled out an ivory sweater and leggings and entered the ensuite bathroom.

Undressing herself, she let the warm water sooth her body and senses. It felt grateful, to be away from her abusive husband. She felt alive, again.

When she stepped out, in the room, she saw him reading a book while sitting on a couch.

As he sensed her presence, he looked up, straight into her eyes, and smiled.

There was nothing special about his smile. Except that it was radiating affection and calmness. But there was a tiny blood stain on the collar of his coffee-brown shirt. Tiny, but noticable for her sharp eyes.

There was silence in the room. Both of them were confused how to begin. It was ironical, awkward and emotional, all at once.

Four years ago, he all of a sudden walked away from her life. He wasn't meant to come back. Or at least that's what he had promised to her and himself. That he'll never come back. That it's for her good.

“Why did you come back?” She asked.

He put down the book he was reading, and stood up from the couch.

“I walked away for your good. I didn't want to drag you into my world. A leap of four years and I got to know that my absence brought you to the worse. Abusive husband, a miscarriage, and a life-long trauma.”

“So you finally decided to make me a part of your world?”It felt like a taunt.

“It's your choice, Zerah. You are not a part of it yet.”

“I want to go out.” She wrapped her arms around herself and looked away from him.

“Are you sure?” She still had scars on her body, she needed some rest.

“I have been carrying wounds for last three years, they don't bother me anymore.”

“As you wish, then.”And moved to open the door for her.