My Lucky Star: Fake dating Turkish celebrity romcom by Enni Amanda

Author:Enni Amanda [Amanda, Enni]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lumi Publishing
Published: 2023-06-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

Aria

TRUST ISSUES. THAT couldn’t be right. I’d never been betrayed or cheated on. Discarded, yes. Exchanged for something better, also yes. But not really betrayed. To betray someone, you had to first commit to them, and people didn’t commit to me.

I shook my head at the thought as I leaned against my car. “Things work out... for other people.”

“But not you?” Cem cocked his head.

I felt a stirring in my gut, a desire to be more open with him, to see what he could handle if we really were friends. I hadn’t seen my Auckland friends in months and felt so alone I would probably end up dating Felix just to have someone to talk to.

I nodded at my car. “Let’s go for a drive. I want to show you something.”

Cem was sitting in my Toyota before I even made it behind the wheel, grinning at me like a Labrador who’d been promised a walk.

“Aren’t you going to ask me where we’re going?” I cast him an amused glance as I reversed down the driveway and steered up the road, away from the town center.

“I like surprises.”

“In that case, close your eyes.”

He did.

I laughed. “Are you sure? It’s a twenty-minute drive.”

“You don’t think I can keep my eyes closed for that long?”

I turned on the radio, searching the channels for something mellow to match my mood. I settled for Ed Sheeran.

“I know this one,” Cem exclaimed, humming along.

He had a lightness to him I craved, as if he was buoyed by life where I was getting sucked under. I felt jealous yet elated to be near him. With Cem, I couldn’t sink any deeper. He had so much good luck and optimism, almost enough for both of us.

We drove in silence, listening to the music. After ten minutes, I noticed Cem had fallen asleep. I’d heard jet lag lasted 24 hours for each time zone crossed, and coming here from Europe, you crossed half of them. How would I cope with the flights if we went to Istanbul? What if I fell asleep in the middle of one of those public outings? It’d be awful, but not the worst outcome I could imagine.

Maybe I really did have trust issues. I couldn’t trust anything to work out and not only relationships. For seven years, I’d made rejection part of my weekly routine. I’d told myself I needed to keep putting myself out there, to develop a thicker skin. And to an extent, it worked. I got used to the turndowns. In the end, I hadn’t questioned why I only scored two-line parts, or why my boyfriends wanted to keep things casual, or why I had so many superficial friendships that meant more to me than the other person. I’d accepted that I wasn’t the one people committed to or banked on. I was the one they used for a while, so that’s what I became good at; being useful. If I didn’t expect too much, it hurt less.

I glanced at Cem.

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