He wasn’t waiting for anyone—at least, not anyone who was coming.
The café was small, tucked away in a corner of Istanbul where the scent of roasting coffee fought with the salty breeze of the Bosphorus. Kerem sat by the window, watching the rain blur the world outside. Opposite him sat an empty chair and a cold cup of tea. Bi Seni Sevdim Birde Seni Sevmeyi
He realized he wasn't mourning a loss anymore. He was celebrating a capacity. He loved her for who she was, and he loved the version of himself that was capable of staying true to a feeling, even when the wind changed direction. He wasn’t waiting for anyone—at least, not anyone