Stay with me

Chapter 13 Theorems and Axioms

He did not expect to meet Omer in the corridor, but, seeing him, stopped. He looked with cold dignity and said:

"You won the battle, but not the war."

"Does my wife know that you are in love with her?" – in response, Omer asked rigidly.

"And you're shrewd," Kerem said. "But you are wrong about the main thing. My feelings are not in love... Rather... love, but not as a woman... But as a human being, a friend. I will protect her interests whether you like it or not.

"Even if these her interests are a mistake and ruin her life?"

- Defne is a smart girl. She may be wrong, but in the end, she will make the right decision. And I will support it, "Kerem answered confidently. The tone of his voice changed. "All the best, Mr. Omer." I wish you not to miss the chance that His Honor today has so generously given you.

Defne's lawyer left. And again, Omer's attention was drawn to the door, or rather the girl behind it. His patience overflowed an already shallow bowl. But when the last drop fell, and Omer pulled away from the wall to return to the room, the door opened and Defne went out into the corridor. Cold, collected and unapproachable. The Iron Lady. But she can't deceive him anymore. He knew behind this shell is his Defne. Real, warm. And she loves him!

- Well, what took so long? - He tried to take her arm.

"Let's talk on the street," Defne said without looking at him and passed by. She strode along the long, gloomy corridor and heard measured steps behind. It burned between the shoulder blades.

"Tired muscles. My muscles are just tired," she repeated, like a mantra, but the treacherous heat burned the back of her head.

- Damn it! Defne shouted at her own body. "When will you learn to obey me and not respond to his eyes?"

Omer caught up with her on the street. Strongly, but carefully grabbed her wrist with long fingers and led to the square opposite the courthouse. There he sat her on a bench and sat down beside her. Defne released her hand from his fingers and, clasping her palms together, squeezed them between her knees.

But Omer was not going to retreat. He touched her shoulder, stroked lightly and suggested:

- Let's go to you right now, pack your things and transport them to our house.

- What? - She looked at him as if he had a second head grown on him.

"You heard what the judge said - to live in the same house," Omer explained patiently. He firmly decided to be meek and docile, and for no reason to quarrel with her. But Defne seemed to have very different intentions.

"That was advice, Omer!" Advice, not a prerequisite.

- But, admit, the advice is excellent!

- An excellent one? -she asked in amazement. - To live together? As if nothing had happened? It was as if there were no lies and those terrible months after the wedding ... the dark water of the Bosphorus ... Iz and your life in Marseille? - Omer opened his mouth to object, but Defne threw up her hand in a stopping gesture and continued to say: "As if you just did not humiliate me by exposing me as an accessible girl and publicly declaring that I surrendered to you before the wedding?"

Omer was confused. He never thought of their magical, fiery nights like that ... down to earth. And today he just wanted to prove that their marriage is real.

- Defne...

She interrupted him. With a bitter rebuke in her voice, looking straight into his soul with her piercing, amber eyes, she asked: