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His honest, unvarnished words hit me hard, and tears well in my eyes again.
"Then I met you, and, and I wanted to change, but by then, I was past helping even myself. I didn't know how to stop. I loved you, and still, I blew it."
I try to keep my composure as he continues, “I should never have left you that night, but honestly, I didn't even realise that you weren’t with me.”
“Oh, that’s just charming.”
He grimaces at my sarcasm. “I know that's not something anyone wants to hear. I couldn't think about anything else but getting to Blair. By the time the plane landed in London, I was piss drunk. And I stayed drunk. I was drunk when I saw you at Brazen.”
He takes my hand, and I feel the warmth of his skin as he brings it to his lips. I want to pull away, but I can’t. “I know.”
“I need to make amends for how I treated you.”
A snarky remark escapes my lips before I can stop myself. “So, is this part of your 12 steps, Kaan? Step 3: Admitting you’re a walking rock-and-roll disaster? Step 4: Apologising to all the pour souls whose hearts you’veshattered?”
Yes, the word shattered is dripping with sarcasm.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t disrespect the program.”
“In a way, you’re right.” Kaan chuckles, shaking his head at my cutting remarks. “Making amends is an important part of my journey towards recovery, but there’s only one heart that matters to me right now and it belongs to the person standing in front of me.”
His words hang in the air. Part of me is hopeful, longing to believe in his sincerity and his desire to change. But there’s also a tinge of fear, a lingering uncertainty about whether I can truly trust him again. The scars from the past still ache, reminding me of the pain he caused.
“I’m the one who’s sorry,” he continues, “It’s not enough, but it’s all I have. I need you to understand that I was lost. I didn’t know how to deal with the guilt that I felt about Blair, and I needed to numb the pain. But it only made things worse.”
“I collapsed after the funeral.” He takes a deep breath, his voice trembling slightly as he opens up about his darkest moment. “My mother found me on the bathroom floor, choking on my own vomit. It was a wake-up call, a harsh reminder of how far I had fallen. She saved my life that day, and I will be forever grateful to her for that. She checked me into rehab, and it was one of the hardest and ugliest things I’ve ever done, but it was worth it.”
As Kaan bared his soul, a chill ran down my spine. The possibility of losing him, of him slipping away from my life entirely—I was completely unprepared to face such a devastating reality.
“The doctor told me something that changed everything. He told me that I was allergic to alcohol, that it is a poison to me. I can and never will be able to control it and if I didn’t stop drinking was going to destroy me.” He pauses for a moment, his eyes searching mine for understanding. “I made a choice, I chose to live, really live, without the crutch of alcohol.”
His voice carries a newfound confidence, each word spoken with a sense of purpose and determination. “It’s been 327 days since I took that leap, and I’ve been sober ever since.”
“Which is amazing. I’m really proud of you.”
“It’s been hard, but yeah, it’s good.” His voice is tinged with a hint of determination. “I made a decision to reclaim my life, and once I did, winning you back became a top priority.”
“It’s always good to have goals.” My playful tone mirrors his.
“Before I met you, my life was empty of what truly mattered. But then you came along, and you threw yourself at me—”
"I did no such thing!"
"You latched onto me like a squid and knocked me clear over!"
"You slammed into me like a ten-tonne truck!"
"Damn, I've missed you." Chuckling, Kaan engulfs me in a tight, bear-like embrace. “I need you to know that loving you, and being loved by you, has been the best thing I’ve ever done, Meg.”
As my name escapes his lips, a wave of emotions rush through me, causing tears to well up in my eyes. “You just called me Meg.”
“I did.” Kaan laughs and squeezes me even tighter. “But let’s face it, Meg sounds like any regular old name. Nutmeg, on the other hand, has that extra dash of spice. You’ll always be Nutmeg to me.”
Time seems to have come to a standstill wrapped in the warmth of each other’s embrace. Gently pulling away from his chest, I raise my gaze to meet his eyes, baring my soul in my words. “I’m sorry too, Kaan. I struggled to believe that your feelings were genuine. I tried everything I could to stop myself from falling for you. I should have been there for you, beside you. I’m sorry that I wasn’t.”
As the weight of our apologies hang in the air, a sense of healing begins to replace the lingering pain.
“It’s okay,” Kaan says, his voice gentle. “I pushed you away and made it impossible for you to help me.”
