Stay with me

Chapter 8 - Farewell

"You woke up ... How good!" Let's forget everyone and go back to bed.

He tried to turn Defne's face and kiss her lips, but she twisted from his arms and pulled away. Without looking into Omer's eyes, she said:

- I need a shower. And you have to go to work.

Omer caught her and wrapped her in a hug again.

"Allah Allah," wailing jokingly, hid her in his arms and pressed his cheek to the top of her head. - I married the cruelest girl in the world. She doesn't love me at all.

"Do you love me?" Shouted everything inside, but Defne silently removed his hands and went to the door of the bedroom.

"Defne," Omer's voice behind her sounded guarded.

- Is everything okay?

Without turning, she nodded her head and left. And only in the shower, making the water as hot as possible, gave vent to tears. She believed again ... and again made a mistake. Her life doesn't teach her anything.

Omer looked in bewilderment after his wife. What's the matter with her? At night she was like a living fire, and in the morning turned into an ice cube.

Allah! Yes, she is embarrassed. His shy girl!

Smiling, he decided to himself that shyness should be fought, but gradually. Now he will give her time to get used to the idea that he is her husband and making love - it is wonderful and nothing to be ashamed of. Biting his lip, Omer exhaled and went to get dressed.

He prepared breakfast, set the table, and Defne still didn't come down. Measuring the living room with steps, Omer pulled up his sleeve and looked at his watch. After half an hour, he needs to go to work, but he still didn't see his wife. He didn't see enough, didn't breathe, and didn't get energized by her. Stopping at the bottom of the stairs, he called out loudly:

- Defne! Where did you go? Breakfast is getting cold.

The bedroom door slammed and she appeared on the stairs.

Wearing jeans and a simple T-shirt with hair tied in a ponytail, Defne looked more like a teenage girl than the wife of the owner of a huge company. But Omer could not take his eyes off her. And he felt out of place in his expensive and impeccable suit. While Defne was descending the stairs, he had the thought of forgetting everything, changing into jeans, putting Defne in the car and rushing away from Istanbul. To the mountains. The thought was very tempting, but sober reasoning crushed it. Passionis needed his creative director. He ignored work for an unacceptably long time, and this could be a blow to the firm. He will tolerate it until the weekend. Just some three days.

Defne went down the stairs and walked past to the dining table.

- Hey! - Omer was indignant. "And the morning kiss?"

He caught up with her and bent to kiss her on the lips, but she turned her head away and the kiss fell on her cheek.

"You said breakfast was getting cold," she recalled and sat down at the table.

"You are right," Omer agreed easily, and before he sat down in his place, he poured tea into a fine glass and stirred sugar in it.

His concern made her sick. Defne picked up a fork and stuck it in an omelet. Appetizing in appearance, it tasted to her like wood sawdust. She swallowed half of her portion with difficulty and picked up

her glass of tea. The aromatic drink was exactly the way she loved - strong and sweet. It calmed the shaky nerves and the rebellious stomach a little. Wiping her lips with a napkin, she looked at Omer. He ate with great appetite and looked cheerful and contented with life.