Chapter 8
I already knew that party was going to be a challenge.
Not that I didn’t like socializing, but it was a celebration for young people at least thirteen years younger than me.
It was the birthday party for the niece of a friend I was close to—a friend I did a lot of drug business with. That’s why I had to attend.
Which reminded me of Eda, who was around that age, and what she did that morning in the hotel room.
The way she’d run away from me without even saying goodbye or thanking me still echoed in my mind.
She had fled. The worst part was that I had no idea why, and I felt outraged—my ego still wounded by that kind of rejection.
The music was pounding when I walked into the party, Murat close behind me.
The house was packed with lively people, laughter and conversation filling the air.
I felt a bit out of place at first, but soon I was greeted by friends and acquaintances who were just as lost as I was in that sea of young people scattered around the room.
And then, to my complete surprise, my gaze found Eda, standing on the other side of the room with a drink in her hand.
I can’t say exactly why, but my heart raced.
I knew I should stay away from her, avoid any conflict at a party. But curiosity and anger won out, and I approached, bracing myself for whatever came next.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the little runaway,” I said sarcastically, standing before her. “Hi, Eda! How are you?” I asked, my voice colder than I intended.
She turned toward me, her eyes widening in surprise as she blinked, as if processing my presence. She looked so beautiful that night, but I couldn’t let physical attraction cloud my judgment.
“Bartender, is that really you? What are you doing here?”
I could barely believe that even though she was more sober than the day we met, and could see my bearing and elegance, she still insisted on calling me a bartender and thinking I was one.
“Who else would it be?” I retorted, trying to stay calm. “I came for my friend’s niece’s birthday. What about you?”
“I thought I’d never see you again…” She glanced at the floor for a moment, then met my eyes again. “I don’t know the birthday girl, because as you know, I recently got back from Italy, where I lived and studied for years, but I came to the party with some friends.” She shrugged.
“And where are they?” I asked.
“On the dance floor,” she answered right away.
“You don’t like dancing?”
“I love it. And I’m good at it, but my legs were tired and I was thirsty, so I stopped to get a drink.”
“Careful with the alcohol, young lady. Try not to get drunk and cause trouble for someone again.”
We stood in silence for a few seconds, staring at each other, neither of us knowing what to say—both of us certainly remembering that strange night. Finally, I decided to break the ice.
“About what happened at the hotel… can you tell me what that was about? I didn’t really understand. I listened to you, worried about you, helped you, gave you advice, was kind to you—and you ran away.”
“I’m sorry if I was rude to you. I wasn’t feeling well that day, and I didn’t want anyone to see me like that. But you’re right… I should have thanked you and said goodbye.”
Suddenly, I let my wounded pride and irritation take over the conversation. It took an unexpected turn, and we started arguing over silly things.
“You thought you could just run away and never see or talk to the poor bartender again?” I raised my voice. I was losing control.
“It’s not that, bartender, I just…”
“Ayaz… That’s my name,” I said, my tone acidic. “I’m not the bartender—I’m the owner of the bar you were in.”
“Things aren’t quite the way you’re thinking. I just didn’t know what to say or do at that moment, Mr. Ayaz,” she responded, her voice a mix of regret and irony.
“You could have at least said goodbye or thanked me, even if it was just a note.”
“I know it was wrong of me, and I already apologized. What more do you want me to do? Go back in time to fix what I did and have another round of sex with a complete stranger whose name I didn’t even know? That’s impossible, you know?” She threw the sarcasm right back at me.
That wasn’t what I expected to hear. I’d braced myself for anything—except what she’d just said.
“What? You really think I would have sex with you in that state, Eda?” I asked, incredulous at her revelation.
“I have plenty of flaws—believe me, they’re many and unspeakable—but I’ve never forced any girl to be with me.
They all stay because they want to. I like being unforgettable in bed, baby, and I am.
I would never sleep with someone who wouldn’t remember me the next day.
Nothing happened between us that night. I only slept beside you because you asked me to stay when I was leaving. ”
“Nothing happened... nothing?” She seemed relieved by my statement. “I thought something had, Ayaz, and I left feeling confused and scared.”
“All you had to do was stay and ask.” My patience, already thin, was wearing out.
“I didn’t know what to do. I’d never spent the night with a man before, and I was confused and scared because I couldn’t remember anything.” She sighed and looked at me.
“I’ll never forget how you slighted me.”
The tension between us was building.
“You know, Ayaz...” she began, her voice dripping with disdain, “you seemed like a much better person when I thought you were just a bartender, without all this arrogance of being the bar owner and king of the world.”
“You don’t know who I am or what I’m capable of, spoiled little girl.” That was enough to make me lose my cool. “You can’t just treat me this way or say something like that.”
The tension was mounting between us. What could have been a friendly, even fun conversation was turning into a full-blown argument.
“Ugh, Ayaz, ugh, I do know who you are!” I froze. Had Eda really discovered my true identity? “You’re an arrogant person who can’t talk about anything without acting superior to everyone.”
“Eda, you think you know who I am.” The music pounded in my ears as we argued. “But you have no idea what atrocities I’m capable of.”
Our argument was getting heated, and I didn’t want to make a spectacle at the party, let alone reveal my identity to that insolent girl.
So I turned my back and left without saying goodbye, feeling a mix of anger and frustration, the same way she’d done in the hotel room.
I left Eda high and dry, talking to herself.
When I was invited to that birthday party, I didn’t know what to expect—maybe just a few hours of pure boredom surrounded by uninteresting kids. But one thing I was certain of: my heated reunion with Eda wasn’t what I had in mind.