40. Chapter 35
I Didn't Know
Evin
E vin stood there as if the world around her had come to a sudden stop. The wind brushed against her bare arms, but she barely felt the cold. All that mattered was this moment, this man, and the unspoken words hanging between them like heavy storm clouds.
"Evin—get in the car!"
His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut through the night like a sharp blade. No plea, no persuasion—just a command. Low. Unyielding.
Her jaw tightened, fingers digging into the skin of her arms as she fought to contain the fury burning inside her. Fury at him. At herself. At this entire situation that felt like a noose tightening around her throat.
"Why should I?" Her voice came out sharper than she intended, and she prayed he wouldn’t hear the uncertainty buried beneath it.
But Bas didn’t flinch.
He stepped closer, his presence swallowing the space between them, his icy bl ue eyes locking onto hers—daring her to listen.
"Because we need to talk."
Evin blinked, caught off guard by the rawness in his tone.
No excuses. No lazy smirk to hide behind. Just those words—clear and heavy, like a sentence being handed down.
Her heart pounded as she forced herself to hold his gaze. She wanted to challenge him, to make him back down first. But there was nothing in his face that wavered—only determination, steady and relentless, unraveling her composure.
"I’m cold anyway," she muttered, more to herself than to him.
She knew the moment she gave in, she would lose.
But something about him, about this goddamn night, pulled at her—like the tide, inevitable, unrelenting.
Before she could change her mind, she yanked open the passenger door and dropped into the seat, her movements sharp, almost defiant.
"Make it quick."
He hesitated—just for a second—and from the corner of her eye, she saw the slightest shift in his shoulders, as if he was silently celebrating a victory.
He didn’t say a word.
Just moved around the car with steady, deliberate steps—like he had just won a battle.
When he reached the driver’s side, the streetlights cast shadows over his face, carving hard lines around his mouth, his eyes.
And even though she wasn’t looking directly at him, she felt him.
Felt the weight of his presence filling the space between them
As if he hadn’t just taken control of the car. But of her own goddamn will.
The engine rumbled to life, slicing through the silence wrapped around them like an invisible thread.
Evin folded her arms tightly across her chest, her gaze locked onto the window. The city lights blurred past, streaks of color that felt like distorted memories.
Everything in her screamed at her to shut him out. To keep the walls up.
And yet—
That pull was still there.
That quiet, stubborn whisper inside her that she couldn’t drown out.
__________
Evin stormed out of the car, her footsteps striking sharply against the asphalt as she put distance between them.
The biting cold of the January night wrapped around her, but she barely felt it.
The chill inside her chest was far worse.
She held her arms tightly around her body, as if that was the only thing keeping her from breaking apart.
"Evin!" Bas slammed the driver’s side door shut, his voice slicing through the silence, but she didn’t stop. She needed to breathe, needed space, needed to put enough distance between them before the storm inside her erupted.
"What do you want?" She came to an abrupt halt, spun around, and glared at him, her eyes burning, though her voice remained cold, almost mechanical. She forced herself to stay composed, even as the anger in her veins threatened to consume her.
He closed the gap between them, his hands shoved into his pockets, as if that would somehow diffuse the tension crackling between them.
"I want to know what the hell that was." His voice was calm, but his eyes betrayed him—dark, brimming with frustration, and something that looked dangerously close to disappointment.
"What that was?" Her voice turned sharp, a whisper laced with venom. "That was the moment I finally realized what a fucking game this has been for you."
"A game?" He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head, his shoulders stiffening as if bracing himself for a fight. "You really think I’d be going through all of this if it was just a game?"
"Yes, Bas, that’s exactly what I think!" She took a step toward him, her hands curling into fists. "Because for you, everything is a goddamn game. Cat. Me. Probably a few others I don’t even know about."
"Th at’s not fair," he countered, his voice quieter now, but firm, unwavering. "You have no idea what’s going on inside me."
"No idea?" She let out a sharp, humorless laugh, the words burning on her tongue, but she spat them out anyway. "What exactly am I supposed to know, Bas? That you used me the same way you used her? That I’m nothing more than another pretty face in your collection?"
He stepped closer, the tension in his face hardening. "Stop saying that. You know that’s not true."
"No, Bas. I don’t know anything anymore." Her voice cracked, but she recovered quickly, standing taller, forcing herself to meet his gaze without wavering. "Do you have any idea what it feels like to lie awake at night, wondering if you even matter? If you’re just there because he’s bored?"
Her hands were shaking now, and she crossed her arms over her chest, holding onto herself as if that would keep her from falling apart, as if that would stop the anger that was no longer just simmering beneath the surface, but breaking free.
He wanted to interrupt her, but she didn’t let him.
"And then I see you. With her. On the phone. With that look, Bas! Like I wasn’t even there. How many girls like me have there been? How many thought they were different?"
He looked at her, his eyes narrowing, and for the first time, he actually looked hurt.
“First of all—none of them were anything. Hook-ups, that’s it. If they thought it meant more, that’s on them, not me.” His voice dropped lower.
"But you, Evin?" His voice was quiet, dangerous. "Are you going to tell me that Ben and Sergej meant nothing? That they were just… what were they? Distraction? Revenge?"
She flinched, but her anger left her no choice.
"Ben was always just a friend. And Sergej…" She stopped, her voice faltering for a moment, but she clenched her jaw and forced herself to continue. "Sergej was a mistake. But at least I am honest enough to admit it."
"Honest?" He took a step closer, so close now that she could feel his breath. "Do you have any idea what it felt like to watch you like that? To see him near you, to know you chose him, Evin? Him. Not me."
She took a step back, but her shoulders remained tense, her posture defensive.
"That wasn’t my choice! You were never really there, Bas. Not completely. Always halfway in, always with one foot somewhere else."
"I was never there?" His voice rose, his gaze locking onto hers with burning intensity. "Evin, I wanted you. I sent you a voice message. You heard it—and you never answered. What else did you need to hear?"
The words hit her like a punch. She blinked, staring at him, and suddenly, there was no more anger in her eyes. Just pure, unfiltered shock.
"The message…" she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath.
Her chest tightened, her breath caught, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to stand still.
She remembered it now. Clearly.
He took a step back, shaking his head, his fists clenching at his sides.
"Yeah, the fucking message!"
Bas stepped forward again, his eyes burning with frustration and something deeper—something raw.
"I told you everything in that message, Evin! Everything I couldn’t say when I was standing in front of you. And you… you just stayed silent. Nothing."
Evin felt the panic tighten around her ribs, her breath coming faster, and the freezing night air did nothing to cool the heat rising in her cheeks.
"I…" She shook her head, but the words refused to come.
"What else did you need to hear?" His voice was sharper now, his frustration spilling over. "I apologized. I told you what I felt, and you ignored me. You didn’t even give me a chance!"
"You don’t understand!" she burst out, her eyes shining with unshed tears she refused to let fall.
"I didn’t finish listening to it!"
His brows furrowed, his steps slowing as he came to a halt. "What?"
"I didn’t finish listening to it!" Her words tumbled out fast, her voice shakin g. "Sergej was there, he wanted to hear it, and I… I didn’t want him to… I didn’t want you to matter." Her hands trembled as she pressed them tightly against her sides. "I deleted it, Bas. I have no idea what you said."
He stared at her as if she had just struck him.
"You deleted it?" His voice had dropped to almost a whisper, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
"Yes." She swallowed hard, looking away. "I thought… I thought it was just an apology. I didn’t know that…"
"That I told you I loved you?"
He held her gaze, his eyes searching hers, but she kept hers lowered, unable to face him.
"That I told you you meant more to me than I’ve ever told anyone? That I tried to be honest with you even when I’ve never been honest with myself?"
His voice cracked, and he exhaled sharply, trying to pull himself back together.
Evin closed her eyes, her nails digging into her palms.
"I didn’t know, Bas." She lifted her head, and when she finally met his gaze, hers was filled with pain and regret.
"I thought it was just… I thought it was nothing. And that makes it even worse because I…"
She trailed off, her voice failing her, pressing her lips together like she was trying to hold back the words.
"Do you have any idea how hard this is for me?" His voice cut through the silence. "Do you think it’s easy for me to open up? To trust you? To trust us?"
He shook his head, letting out a bitter laugh, like he was laughing at himself. "I’m not a fucking saint, Evin. You know that. You knew it from the start. I’m not perfect, and I never will be."
"That’s not what I’m asking for!" Her voice was suddenly loud, almost a scream that echoed through the darkness.
"But how am I supposed to open up when I always feel like I’m fighting alone? When everyone laughs at me the second I’m even a little bit kind to you? W hen I’m constantly afraid that you’ll just… drop me the second you get bored?"
His eyes narrowed, and he stepped closer, close enough for her to feel the warmth of his body.
"You think this is a fucking joke to me?" He shook his head, his hands balling into fists at his sides.
"You just don’t get it, Evin. I want you. Only you. And it took me a long time to understand that. But I do now. I know it."
Her knees felt weak, and the cold crept over her arms.
She wanted to believe him. She wanted to collapse into his arms and say everything she had kept bottled up for so damn long.
But something inside her still fought against it.
"I don’t know how much longer I can do this."
Her voice was barely a whisper, and her shoulders slumped as if the weight of everything was finally pressing her down.
He pulled her to him, his hands firm at her waist, his forehead pressing against hers.
"I will do anything to keep us together. You are mine. And if you let me, I’ll be yours." He paused, searching her gaze for an answer she didn’t give.
"But please… don’t expect me to be the perfect boyfriend. I’m not, and I never will be."
Evin closed her eyes, a single tear slipping down her cheek.
She hated herself for how much she wanted him, despite everything.
And she hated how little she was able to show him just how much she did.
"I don’t want you to be perfect," she whispered.
"I just want you to be honest."
But I can’t.
Evin pressed her lips together, avoiding his gaze.
The cold of the night wrapped around her, but inside, she was burning.
"I need time," she finally forced out, her voice barely more than a breath.
She wrapped her arms around herself, searching for protection she couldn’t find. How am I supposed to tell him that there’s something I can’t even f orgive myself for?
Bas looked at her, confused, before stepping even closer.
"Time? For what? So I can keep waiting while you hold me at arm’s length?"
His eyes flashed, but his voice remained steady.
"I’m not holding you at arm’s length," she countered, meeting his gaze.
Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "I just don’t know if I can give you what you want."
He deserves better than me…
"What I want?" He shook his head, a bitter smile pulling at his lips.
"What I want is for you to stop tearing yourself down like you’re not enough."
She closed her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"I'm not enough, Bas. Not for you. Not for this."
Her voice broke, and she turned slightly away from him, but he grabbed her arm, refusing to let her go.
"Bullshit." The word was sharp, and she looked up at him, startled.
"You are more than enough. But you won’t let me in because you’re scared."
"Can we at least take it slow?" she started, her voice quieter now, as if she was trying to reason with herself as much as with him.
This past year had drained her completely, left her raw in ways she wasn’t sure she could recover from. Somehow, she had to stall him. No matter how much she wanted him, no matter how badly her body ached for him… deep down, it wasn’t just the fear of hurting him that haunted her.
It was the fear of being hurt by him.
If that happened again, she wasn’t sure she’d survive it.
"Of course, I’m scared!"
The words burst out of her before she could stop them, her anger flaring.
"It’s almost like—it’s your world against mine."
His grip on her arm didn’t loosen. Instead, he pulled her closer, holding her firmly against him. A rush shot through her veins, her pulse hammering in response to his nearness.
Her gaze dropped to his chest as he gently lifted her chin with his finger, tilting her head up.
"I get it," he murmured, his icy blue eyes locking onto hers. "We’ll take it slow."
Then, he leaned down and kissed her—softly, tenderly.
His lips were warm, familiar.
He tasted like he always did.
Like him. Like safety. Like home.