The retreat is in an isolated location, surrounded by rustic cabins, a serene lake, and trees that seem to hold secrets. Zeki planned several games for us to bond. I observe Deniz; she's distant, with a melancholy and lovestruck look that almost reminds me of my own reflection. Ezgi is overflowing with excitement, and Osman... well, he remains devoted to me, though I still haven't managed to tell him the truth.
Suddenly, Jan's truck appears on the dirt road. From the passenger side, a stunning woman steps down: long legs, blonde, with thick straight hair and vibrant green eyes. She must be Polen. Jan approaches our group with a serious expression, fixing his gaze on Osman as he greets him.
"Merhaba, Osman, Aylla, Deniz... and this is?"
"Ezgi, my best friend," I reply.
"I've heard a lot about you, Ezgi," Jan says, and my friend smiles, flattered.
"Merhaba, my name is Polen, Jan's girlfriend," she says, interlacing her arm in his.
I greet her with a seriousness that tries to hide the torture of seeing that scene. Jan and I don't stop looking at each other; it seems he has no idea how much it hurts to watch them together. "Can we see our cabins, please?" I end the conversation, dragging Osman with me and leaving the others behind.
"Aylla, are you okay?" Osman asks, always attentive to my signals.
"It's nothing, Osman. I just discovered I'm allergic to pollen," I reply, and I actually sneeze, as if my body were confirming the lie.
Later, Zeki gathers us for a guessing game. He walks around the circle like a sergeant dictating the rules: someone will be blindfolded and must guess who the person in front of them is just by touch. He stops in front of Ezgi and looks her up and down with obvious interest.
"Merhaba, I don't think we've met. I'm Zeki," he extends his hand clumsily.
"Merhaba, I'm Ezgi," she laughs, but I notice a spark of admiration in her eyes.
"Shall we start? This sun is scorching," Polen complains impatiently. I start sneezing repeatedly. Jan approaches quickly, holding my arms and making me face him with concern.
"Aylla, are you okay?" Our eyes lock for too long. I look at Polen, swallow hard, and repeat:
"I found out I'm allergic to pollen."
I'm the first one blindfolded. I identify Deniz, Ezgi, Osman, and Layla by touch. Then, my hands reach someone with a beard and hair tied in a bun. The texture of the beard makes my heart race, reminding me of... no, it can't be.
"Emre," I say at last. I take off the blindfold and see Jan in front of me.
"He's not even in the game!" Zeki exclaims.
Jan stares at me, looking frustrated and upset. Was he expecting me to recognize him? Polen pulls him away, and they disappear for hours. My mind betrays me, imagining them doing things as a couple in love.
At dinner, I watch them from afar. Polen caresses Jan's hand while he gives her all his attention. Without realizing it, I crumble the bread on my plate into tiny pieces.
"Aylla!" Osman calls me, alarmed.
"What happened?"
"The bread was hard..." I lie.
"I know what's going on," Osman says, looking discreetly at Jan and then at me. "You're in love with him."
I lower my head. The truth hurts.
"I didn't want to hurt you, Osman." He takes my hand and kisses it affectionately.
"Aylla, I love you. But to love is to desire the happiness of the other, even if you are not a part of it. I wish for you to be happy."
"I truly love you, Osman... but as a brother," I confess, relieved.
"I know. But you should tell Jan how you feel before it's too late."
I look at their table, but Jan is already gone. I find out at the reception that he and Polen checked out early. The rest of the retreat is calm. I managed to settle things with Osman without any hard feelings. On Sunday, heading home, Ezgi won't stop talking about how "stylish" Zeki is and how his clothes perfectly match his well-groomed mustache.
"Ezgi, if I didn't know you, I'd say it was love at first sight," I tease.
Deniz remains quiet, watching the scenery. She told me she needed to confess something that was weighing on her heart, but she still hasn't found the courage to reveal the secret.