Beyond the game

The week after their dinner had passed in a blur. Azra had tried to keep things normal, diving back into her routine at the orphanage and the few shifts she worked at the supermarket. Life was simple, structured—and that was how she liked it. There was little room for distractions.

But then came the phone calls.

Yuzarsif's name flashed on her screen again, and a strange tension settled in her chest. It had been three days since they'd shared that quiet evening together. Three days of him sending polite, pleasant messages, and her responding with the same amount of distance. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy their conversations; it was that she couldn't ignore the nagging thought that there was more to him than just the charming businessman. Something about him felt like a puzzle she couldn't quite solve.

She hesitated, fingers hovering over the screen, before accepting the call.

"Hello?" Her voice was measured, but there was a slight edge to it.

"Azra," Yuzarsif's voice was warm, familiar, with just a hint of amusement. "How's your day going?"

"I'm fine," Azra answered curtly. "What's up?"

He chuckled, clearly not fazed by her short tone. "I was thinking of stopping by the orphanage today. I have something for the kids. It's nothing big, just some toys and supplies."

Azra's heart skipped a beat. She hadn't expected him to show up at the orphanage again. Of course, he had made a generous donation once before, but this felt different—personal, even.

"Yuzarsif," she said, her voice careful. "You don't need to—"

"I know I don't have to," he interrupted, his voice turning serious for a moment. "But I want to. It's important to me, Azra."

She paused, unsure of what to say. There was something about his determination, the sincerity in his words, that made her hesitate. She didn't want to be charmed, didn't want to get too close to him. But she also didn't want to shut him down completely.

"Alright," she finally said, after a long silence. "But don't expect any special treatment."

He laughed, the sound light and easy. "I wouldn't dream of it. I'll see you soon."

The call ended, leaving Azra standing there, staring at her phone. She wasn't sure what to make of this. Yuzarsif had a way of complicating things without even trying.

---

A few hours later, Azra found herself walking toward the orphanage. The cool breeze of the early evening ruffled her hair as she made her way through the familiar streets. As she neared the entrance, she could already see Yuzarsif's car parked nearby, sleek and polished as always.

He was leaning against the vehicle, waiting, looking entirely at ease. When he saw her approach, he straightened, flashing her that same confident smile that had both intrigued and annoyed her from the beginning.

"You came." His tone was soft, like a statement of victory.

Azra didn't respond immediately, instead nodding and walking past him toward the entrance. "The kids are waiting," she said simply, trying to keep things casual.

Yuzarsif followed her without a word, carrying the bags of supplies. Inside, the children were gathered in the common area, playing, chatting, or doing homework. When they spotted him, a few of the younger ones excitedly ran over, their faces lighting up at the sight of the toys and gifts he had brought.

Azra watched the scene unfold, her heart softening just slightly. She had to admit, Yuzarsif's gestures were generous—and he didn't seem to want anything in return. There was no grand show, no need for recognition. He simply did it because he wanted to.

"Thank you," she said quietly as she turned toward him, her arms crossed.

Yuzarsif smiled at her, his expression softening. "It's my pleasure. I know you care about these kids more than anything."

Azra met his gaze, her eyes narrowing. "What exactly do you want from me, Yuzarsif?"

His smile didn't falter. "Nothing," he said simply, though his tone suggested there was more to it. "But I'd like to think we could be friends. That's all."

Azra exhaled through her nose, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. She wanted to dismiss him, to brush him off like all the other people who had tried to get close to her. But something about him—about the way he spoke, the way he acted around her—made it difficult.

"Well, I don't make friends easily," she said, her voice cold but not unkind. "But thanks for the donations. The kids appreciate it."

Yuzarsif didn't seem disheartened by her response. Instead, he nodded and turned to the kids, who were now gathered around him, showing off their new toys and supplies.

Azra turned away, needing space to collect her thoughts. She stepped outside, leaning against the wall just outside the orphanage. It was moments like this—when she felt vulnerable—that she hated the most. She couldn't afford to get attached to anyone, especially not someone like Yuzarsif.

Yet, as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow across the city, Azra couldn't shake the feeling that Yuzarsif wasn't the type of man she could easily ignore.

---

Later that evening, as Azra returned to her apartment, she found herself thinking more about the man she'd just seen. It wasn't just the gifts, or his charm—it was his consistency. His persistence in trying to be part of her life, even in the smallest of ways.

She hadn't expected to enjoy his company, but she had.

Azra stood in front of the window, staring out at the city lights. She couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to let someone like Yuzarsif in. What if she was wrong about him? What if there was more to him than the polished exterior, the confident smile, and the wealth?

Her phone buzzed, cutting through her thoughts. She glanced at the screen and saw his name again—Yuzarsif.

She hesitated for a moment before answering.

"Hello?" she said, keeping her voice neutral.

"Azra," he said softly, "I was thinking of grabbing some coffee tomorrow, if you're free."

She bit her lip, fighting the urge to say no. It would be so easy to brush him off, to keep her distance. But something inside her—something she couldn't quite identify—compelled her to reply, "Sure. Coffee sounds fine."

"Great. I'll pick you up at 10?"

Azra smiled despite herself, despite the walls she was so determined to keep intact. "I'll see you tomorrow."

As she hung up, she allowed herself one last look at the night sky. It felt like the beginning of something. Something she wasn't sure she was ready for.

But there was no turning back now.

---