A Heart That Beats True

Prologue

The pain in her chest dissipates as she posts the story to her Instagram and all she does for the next five minutes is close her eyes and breathe in and out. She absolutely knows that it's the calm before the storm, that soon enough Nilay would see it and she would, without a doubt, knock on her door to check on her.

She knows she can put up a brave face and that it no longer hurts as much as it did weeks ago when she found out about Murat's adventures behind her back, that her eyes no longer water at the thought of three years that she threw down the drain, wasted on someone that never even cared. Someone that lied to her face and that made her feel so little.

"You can't blame yourself for this and you know it. He was there when it mattered and sometimes—sometimes we get blinded by little actions and don't realize what's going on around us."

Gamze's words echo in her head whenever she's alone and Hande isn't sure if she remembers them in an effort to comfort herself about everything she'd ignored so that she could stay with her ex for so long, or if it's because, deep down, she still blames herself for a lot of it.

She'd threw herself in his arms when her mother passed away and immediately after, Hande made herself focus on her job, started to hit the gym regularly. Murat was busy on tour, but he called every night and when he was in town, he was the perfect boyfriend. She'd let herself feel like she couldn't get over her pain without him and that she owed it to him; she owed him to stay with him, to be there.

Even when she no longer felt that way.

That's why weeks ago when someone sent her pictures of him with another woman, Hande cried and let it all out. But she wasn't sure if her tears came from relief or the betrayal. He had lost it over the phone and yelled at her that night when he went to her house and she'd packed up all his belongings in a box.

She's not surprised by the relief that surrounds her after she posts the story, even when she knows that the questions will start coming, that people will comment on her photos asking about it, that she will no longer get asked questions about her job. It will all be about the break up, about the rumors.

The knock comes less than a minute later and she unlocks her phone, trying to look busy and prays to God that it's not the one person that she's almost embarrassed to see right now. She doesn't even want to think about him looking at her like everyone else does when she tells them that she's single again. Not him. "Come in,"

It's Dilara who comes in with two cups of coffee in her hands.

"Did you just drive all the way from your house after I told you I'm fine?" Hande questions with a raised eyebrow, trying to hide the smile on her face.

"Girl, what do you think? I'm not leaving you alone right now."

Hande just laughs and sits up, taking the iced coffee from her hands and taking a small sip as she checks Instagram again, checking her notifications. She almost chokes on her drink when she realizes that he deleted a story he posted earlier that day.

"What?! Are you okay? Please tell me this asshole said something or did something; give me an excuse. That's all I want." Dilara says, trying to peek at her phone.

Hande shakes her head. "Kerem deleted his story."

"Doesn't he do that all the time?"

"No. I mean, yes. But there was nothing wrong with this one. He was just trying to convince me about—"

Knock, knock.

Someone is at the door again. "It's open!" She calls out, setting her phone down on the seat next to her.