A Turkish Summer I Will Never Forget, a Forbidden Love, and a Secret I Couldn't Hide

Part 1: The Summer That Changed Everything

I will never forget the summer of 2015. That year, I finally broke free from a toxic relationship — although I wasn’t officially divorced yet, my heart had already left long before the paperwork would. When I was offered a job as a tour guide in Turkey, I accepted without hesitation. At that time, I was ready to do anything, go anywhere, just to escape my almost-ex-husband and the weight of a life that no longer felt like mine.

I landed in Alanya full of hope and hunger for freedom. It was a season of scorching sun, sparkling sea, and — oh my God — breathtakingly handsome Turkish men. I didn't go there searching for love. I went to breathe, to live again, to feel beautiful and wanted. And in a place like Alanya, that came easily. The attention was overwhelming — every man I met wanted something serious. Marriage proposals came faster than the ink could dry on a first name.

But I didn’t want any of it. At least, that’s what I told myself.

Part 2: The One I Couldn’t Ignore

Tour guides worked endlessly — 15, sometimes 20 hours a day, with no days off. We lived between buses, airports, hotels, and excursions. The only people we truly got to know were the drivers we worked with. And then one day, I saw him.

I don’t remember if I had even showered that day. I’d just come off one tour and was heading straight to another. But the moment I saw him, I froze. I’d met many handsome men that summer, but he was different. It wasn’t just his looks — though yes, he was tall, athletic, with a stylish haircut and striking wing tattoos on his elbows — it was his charisma, the way his serious, quiet demeanor pulled me in.

He didn’t flirt. He didn’t chase. He simply looked at me with eyes that saw straight through. And for once, I couldn’t just let that pass.

Part 3: The Lie I Told for a Chance to Know Him

That day, after the tour ended, drivers began taking guides back to the staff hotels, sometimes over 50 km away. A good driver would never leave a guide stranded — and he was one of the good ones. He offered to take me back.

As we got ready to leave, my colleagues began calling, asking if they could catch a ride with us. I lied. I told them my driver wasn’t going my way. I just… I needed that ride to be ours, alone. I knew if anyone else came along, this fragile spark between us might vanish.

When the last tourist stepped off the bus and the doors closed, we were finally alone. He spoke to me. Nothing flirtatious — just conversation. There was one problem: he didn’t speak English. I didn’t speak Turkish. Yet somehow, through a chaotic mix of Russian, Turkish, and broken English, we understood each other. Or maybe I just heard what I wanted to. Either way, I didn’t want the ride to end.

As we pulled up, he asked for my number. And if he hadn’t, I would’ve found a way to give it to him anyway.

Part 4: The First Date — and the Magic of Something Real

And then… silence.

For days, I waited. My heart thudded every time my phone buzzed. I tried to pretend I didn’t care, but the truth was — I really did. A week passed. I gave in.

I messaged: Hi, how are you?

He replied: Good, and you?

I asked: What are you doing?

He said: Having dinner at a restaurant.

Then I asked: What are you doing tonight?

And he said the words I’d been dying to hear:

Tonight, I’m going out with you.

We walked hand in hand through the warm Alanya night, down the Cleopatra beach and the moonlit dunes. He didn’t even try to kiss me. He didn’t make any moves. He just held my hand and listened. It was the most romantic night of my life — not for what happened, but for what didn’t. He respected me. He made me feel like the most important person in the world.

That night, something shifted. We weren’t just two strangers anymore. We were something more. And I was terrified.

Part 5: The Secret I Couldn’t Say

He made me feel safe. Seen. Cherished.

But the more serious our connection became, the heavier a weight began pressing on my chest. Because I hadn’t told him everything. I hadn’t told him I’d been married. I hadn’t told him I had a son.

In the beginning, I didn’t say it because I thought we’d just share a few days, a summer spark — nothing that needed deep truths. But then… it did become something more. And now I was trapped. Every meeting with him was sweet and exciting — but tinged with guilt. I felt like I was betraying him by keeping something so big from him. Yet every time I tried to open my mouth, the words got stuck. What if he changed? What if he walked away?

I was falling for him more with every passing day, and that made it harder to tell the truth.

Part 6: A Promise Before Goodbye

August came quickly. Too quickly.

It was the time of Kurban Bayram, one of the most important holidays in Turkey. He told me he was going home to Izmir to see his family — and that he was quitting his job. But then he said something I didn’t expect: After the holiday, I’ll come back. Just for you. I want to be with you.

And in that moment, I knew — I couldn’t hide anymore.

But I waited until the very last day. I was too scared to ruin what we had. I wanted just one more perfect moment. One last night. Even if it was the end.

Then a storm came.

Part 7: A City in Darkness

The night of our goodbye, Alanya was hit by a violent hurricane. Power was out in the entire city. Hotels went dark. Streets were deserted. It looked like the end of the world. And it was... but only for me.

None of the staff were allowed to go outside — it was too dangerous. But I had to see him. I had to say goodbye. Cameras were off, lights were down, and I ran through the blackness of the city to meet him, knowing I could lose my job if I was caught.

When we finally found each other, we didn’t speak. We just sat, holding each other in silence. He was sad. I was broken. I knew what I had to do. And I knew I might lose him forever.

Part 8: The Truth

I couldn’t find the words. So I showed him a photo — the picture of my son.

He looked at it. Confused. Then asked softly, Who is this?

I whispered, This is my son.

He was silent. I explained, I wanted to tell you… I just didn’t know how. I was afraid.

He didn’t get angry. He just looked at me and said honestly:

My family will be against this. But I am with you. Always. I will come back.

Then he hugged me tighter.

That was the last time I saw him.

Part 9: He Didn’t Come Back

He flew to Izmir. He stopped calling. He stopped writing. I kept hoping. I watched the calendar. I told myself maybe the phone would ring on the day he said he’d return. But it didn’t.

A few days later, I ran into his best friend. He told, Do you know that he won't come back?

I looked away. What can you do? It must be so, I said.

That day, I knew it was over.

Part 10: And Yet… He Did

I tried to forget. I told myself it was better this way. That it was just a summer story. But it wasn’t.

And one day — a few weeks later — he did come back.

But it was already too late. Because I did my best to forget about him and I forgot, for some time.

And we would meet again. And say goodbye again. But this is another story that I will tell you later.

Part 11: A Poem of Goodbye

This story stayed with me for years. Every summer breeze, every flash of Turkish sun in my memory, brings him back. I carry that summer in my chest like an old wound — beautiful, but aching.

And so I wrote a poem for him.

A piece of my soul, wrapped in words.

My love I know I have to say goodbye.

In another sky, your star will shine so bright.

Without me, you’ll walk into a new day.

And our past we have to give away.

I knew that I would lose you in this game.

What can I feel? It's only endless pain.

But I was there to help you in hard times.

And now I know I have to say goodbye.

We hadn’t met for ages. Feels like this.

But on my lips, I still taste your last kiss.

I can't just leave you. What else can do I?

Just deep inside I knew you won't be mine.

My dreams and hopes of our life just crashed.

And what remains of our love is ash.

And I will scatter it to the world again.

So that the wind will bring to you my pain.

If You Felt This Story…

If you’ve ever had a summer that changed you…

If you’ve ever fallen for someone you could never keep…

If you’ve ever carried a goodbye in your heart for years...

Then leave a comment. Leave a heart.

This story is mine — but maybe it’s yours too.

And if you’d like to know what happened next…

Let me know.

There’s more.

He came back. But better he wouldn't...