love you (more and more each day)

three

Feraye wakes up to the sound of her alarm, but when she tries to get up, she's hit with a wave of dizziness so staggering that she has lay back down until it passes. She breathes in and out, trying and failing to keep her panic in check.

That's when the first wave of pain hits her. She keens, hunching over until it passes. "Ateş," she calls out once she's able to speak. "Ateş," she says louder, and he jerks awake.

"Feraye?"

Her eyes well with tears as she looks into his concerned ones. "Something's wrong."

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Ateş helps her get dressed quickly, then grabs his keys, wallet and phone. They make their way down the stairs carefully, and Ateş keeps her close, supporting her with an arm around her back. She stumbles on the last step when another cramp hits, this one longer and more intense, but he catches her. She falls into his arms easily, crying silently because she knows what this is. She knows what's happening, and she's helpless to stop it.

His arms are tight around her. "Should I call an ambulance?"

She shakes her head immediately, and makes to stand up. He helps, not saying a word as she is barely able to stay upright. They slowly make their way out of the house, and two steps away from the car, she feels a wetness slide down her legs.

She doesn't want to look down. It's the last thing she wants to do. But she knows she has to, so she does.

Her heart nearly stops, and her knees buckle. She doesn't fall to the ground, because Ateş catches her before she does. She's still crying when he swiftly picks her up and carries her in his arms, one arm under her knees, the other cradling her shoulders. She knows the exact moment he sees the blood, because his breath stutters in his chest, and he freezes for a few seconds. She tightens her arms around his neck, and he presses a kiss to the top of her head, lips lingering there. "I'm so sorry," he whispers, anguish clear in his voice.

Weirdly enough, it brings her some comfort.

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Ateş doesn't leave her side the whole time they're in the hospital. He holds her hand through every moment, he strokes her hair when she cries. The doctor and nurses treat her kindly, obviously sympathetic, but the she doesn't have the capacity to feel grateful right now.

After hours and hours in the hospital, they finally tell her she can go home. Ateş does the paperwork while Feraye sits in the bed, and she tries desperately not to think about Yağmur. Her daughter who didn't get the chance to grow into her little body, her daughter who died before even taking her first breath. She closes her eyes, determined not to cry until she's in her room, in her bed, and alone.

There's a knock on her door, and she sits up, thinking it's Ateş. It's not. It's one of the nurses who had been with her earlier. "Hi," she says to the older woman.

"Hello, sweetheart," she greets her, a kind smile on her wrinkled face. She takes Feraye's hand in hers and clears her throat. "If you don't mind, I'd like to tell you something a little personal."

Feraye nods, confused but willing to listen.

"When I was two years older than you, I had my first miscarriage. A year later, I had another, and then another two years later." Feraye closes her eyes. "But now, nearly thirty years later, I have three beautiful children who are all grown up and out into the world."

Feraye's eyes well with tears.

"Allow yourself to feel this pain," she tells her kindly. "But do not give up. Your husband seems to be a good man," the woman says, the end of the sentence more of a question than a statement.