🌸 Is There No Loyalty in Love?
- Sasteria
- Oct 7
- 5 min read
Updated: Oct 11
Introduction
Love is meant to be eternal, a promise that holds families together through hardship and joy. But when trust is broken inside a home, the wound can last for generations. This story, inspired by Emine Şenlikoğlu’s Sevgide Hiç Vefa Yok mu?, tells of Elif, a girl whose world is shattered when her mother betrays her father. Through her journey of bitterness, silence, and eventual healing, she must confront the question: Can loyalty and forgiveness exist after betrayal?
The Story
🌱 Childhood’s Shelter
Elif was ten years old when her safe world began to unravel. Her father, Ahmet, was a quiet man, respected in their neighborhood for his honesty. Her mother, Leyla, was vibrant, always humming while she worked in the kitchen, always smiling when neighbors visited. To Elif, their small home in Konya was a sanctuary.
But then she began to notice changes. Leyla’s laughter on late-night phone calls carried a different tone—secretive, unfamiliar. At dinner, Ahmet grew silent, his eyes fixed on his plate while Leyla avoided his gaze.
One night, muffled voices grew into sharp arguments. Elif hid behind her bedroom door, heart pounding.
“You’ve betrayed me, Leyla,” Ahmet’s voice broke.
“Don’t call it betrayal!” Leyla snapped back.
For Elif, those words were like glass shattering. That night she realized her mother, the woman she adored, had torn their family apart.
🌑 A Father’s Silence
In the days that followed, Ahmet did not leave. He endured. He went to work, paid the bills, prayed in silence. But his laughter never returned.
To Elif, her father’s silence was confusing. Was he too weak to fight? Or was his patience a form of strength beyond her understanding? She pitied him deeply, yet ached at his quiet suffering.
⚡ A Mother’s Shadow
Leyla tried to mask the fracture. She cooked Elif’s favorite dishes, asked about school, and offered forced smiles. But to Elif, every word from her mother tasted of betrayal.
Once, Leyla tried to explain:
“Life isn’t as simple as you think, Elif. People… make mistakes.”
Elif turned away, her eyes cold. “Some mistakes destroy everything.”
That wall between mother and daughter grew taller with each passing day.
🕊 The Family’s Judgment
Relatives poured in with opinions.
Her grandmother, Fatma Hanım, sharp-tongued and proud, scolded Ahmet.
“You should have been stricter! A man must protect his honor.”
Her uncle, Mehmet, took another view. “Patience, ağabey. Don’t break the home apart. Endurance is strength.”
Her aunt, Aysel, tried to comfort Elif. “Your mother is still your mother. Faith calls us to forgive.”
But their words only deepened Elif’s bitterness. How could they ask for forgiveness when her heart still bled?
🌪 Bitterness Growing
As Elif entered her teenage years, her mistrust hardened.
Her classmates whispered about crushes and dream weddings. Elif laughed bitterly.
“Love? Loyalty? They’re illusions. Nothing lasts.”
Inside, though, she was not laughing. She was wounded, carrying her mother’s betrayal like a scar that refused to fade. Every smile from a boy, every promise from a friend, felt like a lie waiting to reveal itself.
🌷 The Friend’s Voice
In this storm of bitterness, she found her anchor in Zeynep, a kind-hearted classmate.
Zeynep listened without judgment. When Elif poured out her anger, Zeynep didn’t argue. She simply asked:
“Elif, do you want to carry this weight forever?”
Elif frowned. “What choice do I have? My life was broken before it even began.”
“Maybe you can’t change what happened,” Zeynep said gently. “But you can decide what kind of woman you want to be. Do you want betrayal to define you—or will you define yourself?”
Elif stayed silent, but the words echoed in her heart for weeks.
🌌 A Night of Reckoning
One evening, Elif sat by her window, the streets below glowing in the soft light of lanterns.
She thought of her father—Ahmet, still quiet after all these years. Was his silence weakness, or was it the strongest kind of endurance? Maybe loyalty, she realized, sometimes meant carrying pain without letting it destroy you.
She thought of her mother—Leyla, not just the betrayer, but a woman with her own flaws, regrets, and wounds. For the first time, Elif saw her not only as the enemy but as a fragile human being who had stumbled.
And then she thought of herself. She had carried anger for so long it had become her identity. Without it, who was she?
Tears slid down her cheeks. If I hold on to this forever, I will never be free, she whispered to herself.
🌄 Choosing Freedom
The next morning, Elif did not wake up magically healed. But something had shifted.
When she looked at her mother, she no longer saw only betrayal. She saw a broken person who had made choices, lived with consequences, and carried guilt.
Forgiveness didn’t come overnight, but Elif began to loosen her grip on hatred. She realized forgiveness was not for Leyla—it was for herself.
Her faith reminded her that God’s loyalty never falters, even when people fail. Zeynep’s friendship reminded her that love, though fragile, still exists.
Slowly, Elif’s heart began to heal.
Conclusion
Elif’s story is not a fairy tale of perfect reconciliation. Her parents never returned to what they once were, and the scars of betrayal remained. But she learned something even more valuable: betrayal does not have to define a life.
By choosing forgiveness, Elif chose freedom. By daring to believe in love again, she chose hope.
And perhaps the truest loyalty of all is not what others give us, but what we carry inside our own hearts when we refuse to let bitterness win.
Lyric
يا قلبي… اصبر
(Ya qalbi… usbur – Oh my heart, be patient)
نورك باقي
(Nūruka bāqī – Your light remains)
Once I was broken by shadows of home,
Love turned to silence, a heart made of stone.
Promises shattered, the night felt so long,
But pain taught my soul how to grow strong.
I carried the chains, I carried the fire,
حُبٌّ يَشْفِينِي
(ḥubbun yashfīnī – Love heals me),
My heart still aspires.
From the ashes I rise,
يا الله، اهْدِنِي
(yā Allāh, ihdinī – O God, guide me),
Through the dark to the skies,
Set my soul free…
Loyalty lives where the faithful stand,
Your mercy lifts me, Your guiding hand.
Mother’s mistakes, a father’s deep sigh,
I searched for a truth that would never die.
Betrayal was heavy, but hope still remains,
Love is the freedom that breaks every chain.
أنا حُرّ… أنا حُرّ
(Ana ḥurr… ana ḥurr – I am free, I am free)
بِحُبِّكَ أَطِير
(biḥubbika aṭīr – With Your love, I fly)
From the ashes I rise,
يا الله، اهْدِنِي
(yā Allāh, ihdinī – O God, guide me),
Through the dark to the skies,
Set my soul free…
Loyalty lives where the faithful stand,
Your mercy lifts me, Your guiding hand.
حُبٌّ لا يَمُوت
(ḥubbun lā yamūt – A love that never dies)
Forever inside… I’m free.
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