27. Love The Way You Lie
27
LOVE THE WAY YOU LIE
I sit in the harshly lit waiting area, the sterile white walls and buzzing fluorescent lights doing nothing to calm my nerves. The clock on the wall ticks agonisingly slow, each second dragging on as if time itself is mocking me. I glance around, trying to focus on something—anything—other than the heaviness in my chest. The soft murmur of Turkish voices hums in the background, punctuated occasionally by the sharp click of a keyboard. I keep fidgeting with my hands, squeezing them together in a futile attempt to stop the trembling.
Aydin stands at the front desk, speaking rapidly in Turkish to the officer behind it. His posture is rigid, his tone serious. Though I can’t understand the words, the tension in his voice and the way his body shifts uneasily tells me everything I need to know: Heath is in deep trouble.
Is it wrong to feel relieved? A part of me knows it’s not, that it’s human nature to want to feel safe after everything he’s done to me. And I know enough about Turkish prisons to understand they’re not places anyone would want to end up. But for me, it means something more. It means, for now, he can’t reach me. I’m safe—even if it’s only for a little while.
Aydin glances back at me, his expression calm but stern, offering a silent reassurance. He’s got everything under control, even if I don’t. I nod, trying to take comfort in that, but the unease in my stomach won’t settle. My mind keeps racing ahead, imagining all the ways this could still go wrong.
Across the room, I spot Heath. He’s slouched in a chair, his hands cuffed behind him, looking more miserable than I’ve ever seen him. His face is pale, his usual cocky demeanour completely stripped away. I stare at him for a long moment, trying to reconcile this image of him with the man I once knew. The Heath I remember was always so confident, always in control, always a step ahead of everyone else. Now, he looks deflated, as if he’s finally realising that this isn’t a game he can charm or manipulate his way out of.
He notices me staring and shifts in his seat, his eyes locking onto mine. For a fleeting moment, something flickers in his expression—regret, maybe? Fear? It’s hard to tell, but whatever it is, it’s too little, too late.
Before I can tear my gaze away, the officer at the desk taps Aydin on the shoulder, speaking quickly in Turkish. Aydin responds in a measured tone, but again, it’s all in a language I don’t understand. I sit there, feeling out of place, disconnected from the entire situation. The only thing I can grasp is the uneasy churn in my stomach. I just want this to be over. I just want to go home.
Aydin turns to me, his face unchanged, still calm. “They’re going to finish processing Heath,” he says softly. “You’re safe now, Saffy.”
I nod, though the word “safe” feels foreign on my tongue. It’s hard to believe that safety is something I can just have now, after all these months of looking over my shoulder, always bracing for the next outburst, the next explosion of anger. The idea that Heath could be locked away, that he won’t be able to hurt me anymore—it feels too good to be true.
Suddenly, I hear movement. Heath is on his feet, escorted by two officers toward the back of the station. But before they lead him away, he looks over at me one last time, his eyes searching mine.
“Saffy.”
I hesitate for a moment before taking a step closer, against my better judgement. There’s something I need to hear—something I need to confront. Aydin gives me a look, but he doesn’t stop me.
Heath looks tired, his voice rough and strained when he speaks. “I’m sorry. I never wanted it to come to this. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just… I just lost control.”
I cross my arms, keeping as much distance between us as I can. The anger inside me simmers, sharp and cold. “You always lose control, Heath. That’s the real problem.”
He winces, his shoulders sagging under the weight of my words. “I just wanted to keep us together… I thought if I could make you see?—”
“Make me see what?” I snap, cutting him off. “That you could control me? That you could force me to stay with you?”
“No… it’s not like that.”
“It’s exactly like that,” I say, my voice unwavering. “You don’t get it. You never have.”
His eyes darken, the pleading vanishing as something harder, angrier, takes over. “You think you can just walk away from me?” His voice rises, the quiet control slipping. “After everything?”
“Yes.”
His expression hardens, and I see the anger boiling beneath the surface. “You’ll regret this, Saffy. You don’t get to just leave me like this.”
I don’t flinch, my eyes locked on his. “Is that what Jacinta tried to do?”
He jerks his shoulders, the cuffs on his wrists rattling. “You’re just like her. Trying to pin this all on me.”
Before I can respond, one of the officer’s steps in, gripping Heath’s arm tighter and yelling something in Turkish. Heath’s face twists in fury, his eyes wild as they lock onto mine. “You’re going to regret this,” he growls, his voice low and menacing. “You think you’re done with me, but you’re not. I swear to God?—”
The officer pulls him back sharply, another stepping in to help restrain him. Heath struggles for a moment, but it’s pointless. They drag him toward the back of the station, his threats still echoing in my ears. He glances over his shoulder one last time, his eyes burning with anger.
I need to tell someone what Heath said about Jacinta. It’s like his words are on a loop in my head, the way he hinted at something... something awful. He didn’t come right out and say it, but it felt like he was admitting it, like he knows exactly what happened to her.
But who do I tell?
Do I go to the police here?
Would they even listen to me?
They’re focused on today’s attack, but this... this is way bigger, and it happened back in London. I don’t even know if they’d care about that.
Or do I wait until I’m back home?
But that could take weeks, maybe longer if I end up staying with Ginny and Aydin for a bit.
Can I really sit on this? Just... pretend like I don’t know what Heath might’ve done?
My chest tightens, anxiety creeping in.
What if keeping this to myself means Jacinta never gets justice?
What if Heath gets released, free to come after me again? Or hurt someone else?
Aydin walks over, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Let’s go home.”
Together, we walk out of the station and into the cold night air. I close my eyes for a moment, letting the crisp breeze wash over me. It feels like the first breath I’ve taken in ages—like freedom.
Maybe it’s not over, not completely but standing here, with Aydin by my side, it doesn’t feel as overwhelming. It feels... manageable.
I open my eyes, glancing up at the stars barely visible through the haze of city lights, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I allow myself to hope. Hope that things can get better. Hope that maybe, just maybe, I’m stronger than the fear that’s been chasing me.
“You okay?”
I nod, feeling the truth of it settle inside me. “Yeah, I think I will be.”
Tonight feels like the beginning of something different. Something better.
And for the first time in a long time, I’m ready for it.