A Doll for the Boss

Oh no, damn it! When he left the room, I swore I cried, cried for real, like a child when she loses her mother. Like a child whose most precious treasure has been stolen! But I also cried like an adult whose life was taking away all her dreams. I cried with intensity and pain, feeling broken. I had reached these extremes! I gave myself to two strangers, compromising my dignity and trampling on my femininity, valuing a man more than myself.

I wanted to turn a blind eye and believe that Serkan could fall in love with me, but there is no worse blind person than the one who doesn't want to see. He always treated me distantly, coldly. The few times he was affectionate, there were always people present. He was pretending, as if he was making me pay for something, but I had no idea what the reason was. Serkan Ferner was the devil himself who had come to make me pay for each and every one of my sins, regardless of whether his own blood was growing inside me. Although I sincerely wished that wasn't the case, I didn't deserve anything from him.

The next morning, I woke up with an incredible headache. Today was my graduation and I didn't feel like going, but it was my duty, as I would give the opening speech. I couldn't write anything, nor rehearse. Whatever I would say in the ceremony would be whatever came to my mind in that moment.

I took a quick shower, trying to calm the screams of my soul, but it was impossible. I was hurt. When I was ready, I walked straight to the mirror and sat down, searching for my things in the drawers. I had to cover those dark circles and put some color on my cheeks. Something simple but elegant. Then I styled my hair, putting it up in an Italian bun with some volume in the front, giving myself the look of a movie star.

When I finished the first part, I walked with determination towards the closet. In the center of the room, right where the couch was, there was a huge white box with a red ribbon. I approached it, mostly out of curiosity. My name was written on a small note. I took it in my hands and read: "Forgive me, Serkan Ferner." I crumpled the letter with anger, throwing it to the floor. I took the ribbon and tore it apart, opening that huge box abruptly.

Inside it was that beautiful white dress he bought for me in London. I wanted to cry, but I didn't have enough tears left. He had taken them all. I took the dress in my hands, throwing it to the floor. I liked it very much, but I wouldn't wear it. If I do, it would be like accepting his apologies and that wasn't true. I searched through all my clothes, but nothing pleased me. Just when I was giving up, I looked at his clothes. Inside his shirts was a beautiful dress, in an electrifying blue tone, one that made you vibrate.

The dress was a royal blue worthy of a wedding party or a bridesmaid. It had a wide, straight neckline, lace, and long tulle to the floor. The back completely uncovered. I was in love with that piece of clothing, I didn't care if it wasn't mine, this would be the one I would wear.

I put on the garment and looked at myself in the mirror. The fabric had adhered to my body like a second skin. I felt sexy, powerful, just what I needed. I carefully went downstairs, wearing matching heels, but too high. That was the idea, I was sure I would steal a few glances.

As I reached the entrance of the house, the driver approached me, looking at me astonished.

"Mrs. Ferner, I was waiting for you. Please, get in the car."

I stared at him. He wasn't to blame for my misfortunes, but he also had to take a sip of my venom.

"No, thank you. Someone is waiting for me at the entrance. I would appreciate it if you followed my orders. I am your boss's wife, not a prisoner. Don't make me behave worse, understood?"

There was no truce between his gaze and mine, so I decided to raise my tone.

"Do you understand or not?" I shouted as the man paled.

"Yes, ma'am."

I didn't wait for any further response and walked towards the exit. I had lied, no one was waiting for me, but I would take a taxi. Just as I was leaving the mansion, a car that I was already familiar with parked in front of me.

"God must love me too much. I came to pick you up and put you in the door. There's no need for me to kill anyone," he said laughing.

"Omer, what are you doing here?" I asked as I saw him get out of the car to open the passenger door. I think God loved me more than him, for putting him in my path to help me with my plan.

"I wanted to see you, I remembered that today is your graduation. And your husband? Where do you want me to take you?"

"Take me to the university. My husband is busy," I lied. "He will arrive at the theater later."

He seemed to accept my answer, so he stayed silent. The trip was quick and comfortable. I realized we had arrived because Omer opened the car door, extending his hand to help me get out. "Thank you so much, Omer," I sincerely thanked him.

"You don't have to thank me. I hope you don't mind, but I came to stay. I want to see you succeed, I will find a place among the guests. Don't forget that there, in the crowd, is someone who loves you."

His words washed over my body like a wave of cold water.

"What did you say?" I asked, still unable to believe it.

"What you heard. This time I won't leave. I don't care if that madman comes to kill me. Go on, go and meet your classmates."

I followed his advice and walked in search of my gown and mortarboard, greeting everyone I had shared these years with. Earning some looks of hatred and others of admiration. Indeed, this dress was stealing the looks.

I took my place in the fifth row, being the ninth one in my class. After an hour, the ceremony began. I didn't bother looking for anyone among the family and guests. I didn't expect anyone, only one person was there for me and that was Omer. The principal started with his repetitive and boring speech, but everything changed when a phrase came out of his mouth:

"Dear students, to start off our ceremony and diploma presentation, we will first listen to the words of our most important scholarship donor at the faculty of architecture, architect Serkan Ferner."This text is © NôvelDrama/.Org.

Oh no, damn it!