28. Nina #2
Blink.
Evren is suddenly there—warm arms wrapping around me, grounding me with his body as I collapse into his chest.
He doesn’t say a word.
Just holds me, fiercely, like he’s afraid I’ll shatter.
And maybe I already have.
Because I don’t understand.
I don’t understand how someone could look me in the eye, say everything I’d ever hoped to hear, and then try to die minutes later.
And the worst part is that the rot in my chest whispers that it’s all my fault.
That my anger, my demands, my very existence turned her love into a weapon—and she aimed it at herself.
I did this .
And I don’t know how to undo it. I don’t even know if she’s still alive to undo it.
I gag and bend over, the taste of acid burning my throat as everything in me empties out. My hands tremble, as Evren holds my hair back without a word. One of his hands rubs slow, steady circles on my back, anchoring me to something real.
The waiting room reeks of antiseptic and stolen last words. And God, the heartbreak. It hangs as thick as smoke, clogging my throat worse than tears. I want to claw it out of me, this weight that isn’t mine but lives in my chest now, borrowed and rotting.
A nurse makes her way to us and says, “Ms. Martin is stable and has just been transferred to a room. You can see her if you want.”
She gives me directions and I tell Evren to wait here, that I need to talk to her alone. Her room is at the end of the hall, and I stop just before the door.
Mom laughs and I freeze.
“I needed revenge,” Mom says, her voice light, amused—like she’s discussing the weather, not her suicide attempt. “How could my daughter give me up like that? Turn her back on me after everything I’ve done for her? Stupid, stupid girl.”
My stomach flips.
“She really thought I was going to get clean,” she adds, louder now. “It was the perfect punishment. Let her live with that guilt for a while.”
The nurse doesn’t respond, but there’s the sound of a blood pressure cuff unfastening. A drawer being opened. The rustle of paperwork. But I barely register it because all I can hear is her voice, and those words.
The perfect punishment?
A hot, vibrating silence roars in my ears.
She did it on purpose?
Not to change. Not to end her pain, but she did it to hurt me.
I step back, dizzy. My spine hits the wall and I let it hold me up. My hands shake, and vomit rises in my throat once again. Every cell in my body screams at me to lash out, to make her feel the razor-sharp edges of this pain she’s carved into me.
When my body moves, it’s forward. My newfound anger propelling me through the door and toward her.
The nurse is still there, writing something down on a paper, and Mom’s eyes widen in surprise when she spots me. Just for a second. Then they slide into that smug, syrupy mask I know too well.
“Niiina, baby,” she says, all sugar. “You’re here?—”
“Don’t,” I say, my voice hard, unfamiliar. “Don’t lie to me again.”
She blinks. “I’m not lying. I didn’t know you were standing there.”
“That’s not what I meant.” My pulse is a drumbeat in my ears. “I heard you. I heard everything.”
Silence.
“You tried to kill yourself,” I say, “to make me feel guilty. To punish me for walking away and setting boundaries. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Her expression hardens, like a curtain dropping. “You’re the one who abandoned me,” she spits. “After everything I’ve done for you?—”
“You mean the trauma?” I laugh, sharp and bitter. “The gaslighting? The manipulation? The way you made me your parent before I could drive?”
“I gave you everything!” she snaps. “I sacrificed?—”
“You sacrificed me.” My voice cracks, but I keep going. “Over and over. You used my love as leverage. You weaponized your pain until it was a grenade in the middle of my life.”
She opens her mouth, but I hold up a hand.
“I’m done,” I say quietly. “I’m not playing this game anymore. You want to destroy yourself? Fine, but I won’t be in the blast radius.”
“You’re walking away again?” she sneers. “Of course. Go ahead. Leave me alone. Like you always do. Like everyone always does.”
“Yeah? I wonder why. Maybe it’s because you burn every bridge with a smile on your face.”
She scoffs, gaze narrowing. “You’ll come back. You always do.”
I look at her. Really look at her. Pale, thin, bitter. There’s no remorse, just calculation.
And I realize that she’s right about one thing—the past.
I have always come back .
But not this time.
I take a slow breath and straighten my spine.
“I really hope one day you get help,” I say, quiet and calm. “But I can’t do this anymore. You’ve crossed too many lines to count.”
She’s still silent as I step back, my hand on the door.
“I love you.”The words scrape raw from my throat, bloody with a price I didn't know they carried.“But I’m done letting that love hurt me.”
I back out of the room to the nurse saying to Mom, “I’m going to bring in our social worker so they can explain your options.”
I guess that’s not my problem anymore.
I hold it together as I keep backing up and bump right into Evren’s chest. His eyes are black fury, jaw clenched tight enough to splinter teeth. He must’ve heard everything.
I catch his wrist before he storms inside the room.
“Not here,” I say, dragging him through fluorescents and fire exits and into the parking garage.
“Are you okay?” he asks when he buckles me into his car.
“Yes? No? I don’t fucking know anymore. All I know is that I’m really done this time. No more reacting. No more rescuing. Whatever she does from now on, I won’t let it pull me under.”
“You did everything you could.” Evren crouches next to my open door and pulls me into his arms, his voice low, steady. “You offered her a lifeline. She made the choice not to take it.”
“Yeah…” The word scrapes out of me, half-breath, half grief. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe there’s nothing left to salvage when it comes to Mom. But right now, I have to choose something I’ve never chosen before.
Myself.
I have to love myself enough to see this for what it is—not loyalty, not duty, but a cycle. One built on manipulation, guilt, and need. And I deserve more than that. More than scraps and silence and apologies that never come.
I let myself lean into Evren and press my cheek against his chest. For the first time, I start to let go. Let the weight of years slide off my shoulders, piece by piece, like armor I no longer need to wear.
All because Evren taught me what real love is like.