Egemed spent the day with his family, bustling about the house, preparing food and decorating the rooms in anticipation of the Christmas celebration. The hours slipped by quickly, and by the afternoon, everything was ready. Just as Jerelr had promised to pick him up at five, he arrived at Egemed's house—earlier than expected.
Egemed's mother spotted him standing at the door while Egemed was still fussing with chairs and tables in the dining room.
"Egemed, Jerelr is here," she called.
"I haven't dressed yet, Mother. Please, talk with him for a while," Egemed replied, hurrying off to change.
He emerged moments later, dressed impeccably in a long maroon coat and hat, black leather gloves, a black vest over a beige shirt, and polished black shoes. His mother's eyes widened in astonishment.
"Wow! You look incredible," she said.
"Thank you, Mother. It's new—Father bought it for me," Egemed replied, turning to Jerelr with a smile. "Shall we go?"
"Yes, of course," Jerelr said.
"Mother, I'll be back soon," Egemed added, picking up a small bag filled with presents. Together, they walked toward Jerelr's home, a half-hour stroll through the crisp air.
"Brother Ege, you look great today," Jerelr said.
"You look good too, Jerelr," Egemed said, glancing at him. Jerelr wore a long grey overcoat, almost identical in style to Egemed's, though differing in color and design. A black winter scarf was wrapped neatly around his neck, while Egemed opted for a hat without a scarf, completing his own ensemble.
"Our tastes are similar, but you never wear a hat like me."
"Do you want me to wear one?" Jerelr teased.
"Well, your choice," Egemed smiled.
When Jerelr's mother saw them approaching, she rushed out with a warm smile, greeting them enthusiastically.
"Merry Christmas, Mother!"
"Merry Christmas, Egemed!"
Egemed handed her the bag of gifts, then picked out one wrapped differently in black and handed it to Jerelr, pulling him into a tight hug.
"Merry Christmas, my only best friend. I'm happy to have you in my life," he whispered.
Jerelr's mother watched the two with a tender smile, silently acknowledging the bond they shared, before opening her arms to invite them inside.
Inside, Jerelr's father sat with two children, a boy and girl around the age of Heryl, Egemed's younger brother. They greeted Egemed warmly, shaking his hand with bright smiles.
"Merry Christmas! We're so happy to have you here," they chorused.
Egemed's heart swelled—he hadn't expected such warmth from Jerelr's family. It felt as though they were his family too.
Jerelr's mother continued chatting, teasing Jerelr about never bringing anyone home, noticing the two standing together, she teased with a playful smile, "You know, Jerelr never brings anyone home… well, except that one girl when he was sixteen.
Jerelr's face turned bright red. "Mother! Please… don't tell him that! I'm embarrassed!"
Egemed chuckled at the sight of Jerelr's red face.
"It's fine, Mother. He'll tell me when he's ready," Egemed said softly.
Jerelr finally leaned toward him. "Come, I'll show you my room. Remember, I promised you something yesterday."
"Yes," Egemed nodded, following him upstairs.
Jerelr's room was a revelation: vast, lined with books, walls adorned with paintings and short stories pinned up, candles scattered across the floor. It was a sanctuary of creativity, a stark contrast to Egemed's own room filled with sharp objects and sorrowful quotes almost like a torture cage. Here, every painting depicted happiness—smiling people, flowers, a train with two figures gazing at each other.
While Egemed walked slowly through Jerelr's room, taking in the books, paintings, and scattered stories pinned to the walls, he suddenly stopped.
His eyes froze on a painting tucked among the others—a man standing in a crowd, the date Thursday, 19 August 2009 written atop the frame.
Egemed's heart skipped a beat. Could Jerelr have painted him? No… it couldn't be. But the date—the first day they had met—pulled at a memory buried deep. Conflicted, he leaned closer, studying the figure, trying to convince himself he was mistaken.
Before he could ponder further, Jerelr stepped forward and gently draped a white cloth over the painting.
"Sorry, brother… you can't see this one. It's very expensive—someone gifted it to me."
Egemed blinked, unsure what to believe, the image lingering in his mind like a whispered secret.
Egemed nodded, he remembered the day, three years ago, when they first met. Could it really be him in the painting?
"It… it looks like me, Jerelr," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Jerelr stepped closer and gently shook his head. "No, it was me. You always wear a hat, right?"
Egemed's mind raced. He remembered clearly that the day they first met, he hadn't worn a hat. But it had been so long that doubt crept in. He let out a small, nervous chuckle.
"Oh… sorry. I must have thought too highly of myself," he said, trying to brush it off.
Jerelr only smiled, a quiet understanding in his eyes.
Egemed gaze then fell on three books neatly stacked on the desk—J. Myers embossed on their covers. Before he could speak, Jerelr called him over, seated on a gray fur mat with a present in hand.
"Come, sit. I have something for you," he said, even locking the door behind them. Egemed's heart fluttered uneasily.
Jerelr handed him the gift, smiling through the tears in his eyes.
"Open it, Brother Ege."
Egemed hesitated. "Do I need to open it here?"
"That's why I wanted you here," Jerelr replied.
Inside, Egemed found an exquisite quill and a thick book bearing his full name. At first, he was bewildered.
"Open it inside," Jerelr prompted.
The pages were blank, except for a golden envelope marked J. Myers. Egemed opened it carefully, revealing a handwritten letter:
To Brother Egemed,
I wrote this letter not out of pity, but from the bottom of my heart. There are so many things I've never told you, and I want you to know them now.
From the very first moment I saw you at the market, something inside me stirred. My soul longed to know you more, to understand you. After that day, you appeared in my dreams every night—but always with a shadow over your smile, always with tears hidden on your cheeks. Whenever I reached out in those dreams, you vanished. For three long years, those dreams haunted me, weighing heavy on my chest.
Every week I searched for you in the market, hoping to find you. And then, finally, near the park by the hospital, we met again—and the dreams stopped. Seeing you again, knowing you were still here, was the greatest relief I've ever felt.
I know I might have seemed distant when we first spoke again, but I needed to see your smile, the genuine one that lights your soul. And now, here we are. I cannot bear the thought of losing this connection again, so I asked for your number—to always stay in touch.
I've seen your thesis on your desk. At first, I couldn't understand it, but the more I read, the more I realized your mind sees beyond the ordinary, beyond what others can grasp. Your thoughts are sharp, sometimes too sharp for this world, and I know they've burdened you. But Ege, I am here to lift that weight, not to belittle it.
You have the talent to write, to show the world your thoughts, your truths, your visions. I've been a writer for six years, quietly building a life I love. And I want the same for you. I will support you, even if your family cannot. I want you to trust that you are not alone. I will always love you, as a friend, a brother, a family. No matter what happens, you will never face life without me by your side.
This blank book is yours. Fill it. Rewrite your story. Let your life, your struggles, your triumphs become the words only you can write. And whenever the weight becomes too much, I will be here. When you cry, I will cry with you. When you suffer, I will suffer. When you smile, I will smile. We will face it all together.
"If you have no umbrella on a rainy day, I will come and bring one to you.
If the sun burns too bright and you have none, I will still bring one.
If there is only a single umbrella, we will share it.
If the wind tries to sweep you away, I will build walls so strong that not even the fiercest gust can reach you.
If you must walk through a storm alone, I will craft a boat so sturdy that not a single drop will touch your clothes.
And if I can walk beside you, I will sail with you—through everything, always."
You have given me joy I never thought I would find, Ege. You are my light, my hope, my family. I will always be here, and I want you to begin your new life with that knowledge in your heart.
Always by your side,
J. Myers
Egemed held the envelope with trembling hands. His vision blurred, tears streaming down his cheeks, but he couldn't stop reading. Each word from Jerelr's letter pierced his heart, warmed it, and lifted a weight he had carried alone for years.
As he cried, a shaky whisper escaped him, "I thought… this might be a letter where we have to part ways."
But it wasn't a farewell. It was a promise. A light in his darkest days.
With a trembling hand, he took the quill pen Jerelr had gifted him and wiped his tears to clear his vision. Then, on the blank pages of the back of the letter, he began to write—his heart pouring out in every stroke.
I, Egemed, vow the same for you, Jerelr.
If you don't have an umbrella on a rainy day, I will come and bring you one. If you don't have an umbrella on a sunny day, I will still bring you one. If there is only one umbrella, we will share it. If the wind tries to blow you away, I will build walls so strong that even the wind cannot touch you. If you must walk through the storm alone, I will build a boat so strong that not a single drop will touch your clothes. And if I can walk beside you, I will sail with you, through everything, always.
No matter what happens, I will be there for you. When you are happy, I will smile with you. When you cry, I will cry with you. When the world feels heavy on your shoulders, I will help carry it with you. You have given me light in my darkest days, Jerelr, and I promise to be that light for you too.
I will protect you, support you, and love you as a friend, a brother, a family. Nothing in this world can change that. If life tries to pull us apart, I will find a way to bring us back together. If you stumble, I will be there to lift you. If you soar, I will cheer the loudest.
This is my promise to you.
Always by your side, too
E. Mychen
Egemed set down the quill and held the book to his chest. He turned to Jerelr, who had been watching silently, tears shining in his own eyes. Without words, they embraced—two souls bound by unwavering trust, love, and promises that would last a lifetime.
"Thank you," Egemed whispered into Jerelr's shoulder. "Thank you for coming into my life."
Jerelr only smiled, holding him a little tighter. No words were needed. The quiet warmth between them said everything.
Jerelr wiped his own tears and smiled. "Brother Ege, if you decide to do as I told you, you can start anytime."
Egemed was silent...
Jerelr leaned closer, his eyes soft, voice gentle and filled with care.
After a brief silence...
"You know… recently my mother mentioned a girl I brought home," he said with a quiet chuckle. "She was just a friend—well, not even close. We'd only known each other for five months."
He rubbed his palms together, the memory tightening his voice.
"One day she asked if she could visit my home. So I took her. And my mom… she teased me, saying we looked like a good match." His expression darkened. "But I didn't like the girl. I only brought her because she wanted to see the house."
Jerelr's breath hitched, fingers gripping his thigh.
"I suddenly got mad, and I—I said it in front of her. 'I don't like her. I'd rather stay alone than be with her.'"
He winced.
"It hurt her. She stood up and left without a word. I didn't stop her. I didn't even apologize. And after that, my mom kept teasing me… calling me heartless."
Egemed listened quietly, the corner of his lips curved in an amused, sympathetic way.
Jerelr continued, voice softer now:
"The next day at school, I tried to apologize… but she had already sided with a few boys. Two, three of them. They beat me up—badly. They avoided my face, but my whole body…" He shook his head. "I never told my mom. If she knew, she wouldn't have joked about it all these years."
A faint smile tugged at him.
"Since then, I stopped talking to people. I stayed alone, played alone. I only spent time with cousins, siblings… but even with them I wasn't close.
He lifted his eyes to Egemed. "Except you."
Egemed's voice softened.
"I'm sorry you went through that. They didn't leave any scars, did they? I hope they didn't."
Jerelr shook his head.
"No. Everything's long gone. I forgave them, even though they never apologized."
A small pause. His gaze drifted toward Egemed's gloved hands.
"By the way… what will you do when winter ends? You can't wear gloves forever."
"May I see your hand?" he humbly requested, each word deliberate, carrying nothing but concern.
Egemed froze, his heart pounding. Fear surged like a storm in his chest, and for a moment, he couldn't move. The thought of showing Jerelr his hand—his scars, the evidence of his pain—made him feel vulnerable in a way he hadn't felt in years. His mind raced, desperate to find a reason to refuse, to hide...