Good Novel
Chap 81
Flavia gazed at a magnificent building in front of her. The building, located in Istanbul, Turkey, was completed in 1616. The towering forty-three-meter towers looked majestic with their five-meter diameter concrete columns.
“Beautiful,” that was the word that came to her mind as Flavia observed the sturdy structure. Passing through flower gardens and lush trees, Flavia made her way to the ablution area.
Silk carpets lined the mosque’s floor. Blue ceramics adorned its walls. The ceramics decorating the mosque walls featured motifs of leaves, tulips, roses, grapes, pomegranates, or geometric patterns. With two hundred and sixty windows inside the mosque, imagine the tranquility and coolness of this house of God.
An essential element of this mosque was the marble mihrab carved with stalactite decorations and double incritive panels above it. The surrounding walls were filled with ceramics. The mosque was designed so that even in its fullest condition, everyone inside could still see and hear the Imam.
Flavia, visiting the beautiful country, now felt moved by the joyful news she had just received. Unconsciously, Flavia stood up, tears streaming down her face, feeling grateful for all the kindness of her God after all the trials she had endured.
A young woman, perhaps disturbed by her sobbing, approached. “Iyi misin?” The woman asked in Turkish, which means ‘Are you okay?’
Flavia smiled and nodded. She replied that she was okay in the same language, albeit hesitantly. Flavia wasn’t very fluent in Turkish, but little by little, she knew some from learning from her uncle.
The woman then asked where Flavia was from. Flavia said where she was from. “Can you speak English?” She asked after feeling quite dizzy with her father’s language. The woman smiled kindly and nodded.
“So, are you here for vacation?” The woman asked again.
“Yes. Visiting some places and learning at the same time,” Flavia answered honestly.
They continued strolling around the Blue Mosque. Ayesha, the woman’s name now acting as her impromptu guide, took Flavia around and told her about the history of the Blue Mosque.
Ayesha then took her to a nearby restaurant from the Blue Mosque. After finishing their meal, Flavia bid farewell after sharing contacts with the friendly woman.
Flavia entered the Aristocrat Hotel, its outer part dominated by silver ash with white window leaves. Greeted warmly by the receptionist, Flavia smiled back and entered the elevator to her room floor. Her uncle Erhan was already inside, busy with his work.
Yes, this uncle of hers occasionally visited Turkey for family business matters in the hotel and culinary fields.
“Enjoy your walk?” Her uncle asked without raising his head. Square glasses adorned his sharp nose. This uncle’s age wasn’t far from Claire, Flavia’s stepmother, and also a close friend of his wife Altezza, Adaline. The woman married to Gian Quirino was a model who chose to take a break from her world and now switched professions to become a clothing designer.
Flavia placed her bag on the queen-sized bed and nodded. “Don’t tire yourself too much,” her uncle advised, to which Flavia responded with a smile.
“Uncle,” Flavia uttered softly. Erhan now looked up and gazed at his niece. He took off his glasses and gave Flavia his full attention.
“Yes?” He asked.
“Do you think I did something wrong?” Gian leaned back on the sofa. His right leg propped on his left, now swinging, while his hands clasped together, resting on his thigh and knee. “Which part do you think was wrong?” Her uncle asked back.
Flavia sighed. “Everything,” she whispered. Gian smiled, patted the left side of the sofa, and asked his niece to come closer. Flavia obeyed, moving closer and entering her uncle’s embrace.
“You’re a grown woman. You surely know what you believe is wrong and what you believe is the best choice. I accepted the reasons you gave me when you came to me, and I hope Gladwin does too. But,” he paused. “running away is clearly not an answer. Marriage isn’t always about the husband and wife. In other words, when you marry him, you indirectly have to accept his family as well, and vice versa.
“I am proud of you. Proud of your resilience and patience in facing the trials that God has given to you both. But you also have to remember that when you want to calm yourself, there are others who need calming too. When you want to fight, there are other people who also need to be fought for.
“I’m not defending anyone. What Julie Hampton did to you wasn’t right, even though her reasons might seem understandable. But instead of running away, it’s better for you to approach her and try to persuade her. It will indeed hurt with every rejection and coldness she shows. But eventually, I believe everything will get better.
“You should show your grandmother that you’re the one who deserves to be by Gladwin’s side. If ‘that woman’ should be the one to leave your life, it’s your grandmother and also Gladwin.
“Believe me, the rottenness will eventually be smelled. Insincerity will bear bitter fruit in the end. And…” Gian said with a tighter embrace. “you must always believe that the goodness we sow will also reap goodness. Don’t expect repayment from humans, because God has promised that He will repay it. If not now, then in the hereafter, our goodness will bear sweet fruit.”
Flavia returned her uncle’s embrace tightly, hugging his abdomen and leaning against his chest. Gian and Altezza had become another father figure for Flavia without displacing Antony. The three men were individuals whom Flavia admired and cherished. Their love for their wives and children was something Flavia always wanted in her own life. And Flavia was confident that Gladwin possessed what they had: love, affection, and attention.
That evening, Flavia stood in front of her hotel room window. Her uncle invited her back to his residence, but Flavia refused because she wanted to be alone. She ‘needed’ to be alone.
Flavia gazed at the traffic below. The twilight lights twinkled into her room. Beautiful. If only her husband were here, she wanted to share the good news with him.This is property © of NôvelDrama.Org.