TWO BIRDS OF A FEATHER

The difference in caring...

To ease Sanem's mind, Leyla decided to switch gears. She tried a new topic. She mentioned their parents. The time had finally come when
they needed to make up and put an end to their spousal feud. Once and for all. And Leyla had a plan - one that actually ended up in the most precious success. Whether Mevkibe and Nihat fought with one another or not, their love never ended because they mattered to each other. Rain or shine, hail or snow, in sickness or in health, Mevkibe and Nihat knew there was something that was more important than broken promises, mistakes, or aching hearts. And that was their love.

As soon as Sanem let Nihat know that Mevkibe needed his help, and as soon as Leyla advised Mevkibe that Nihat was in danger, they dropped everything and rushed home. Only to be locked inside. With a table set romantically for two, complete with candles, balloons, and rose petals. Though their minds were still wrapped up in a storm, their hearts knew it was time to forgive one another. They spent the evening looking through many old photographs their loving daughters purposefully laid out before them on the dining room table. The fact that Sanem and Leyla went through such lengths just to remind them how much they cared and how much they loved each other, meant everything. They had made it thus far by holding on to each other, and they knew they would do so for all of their lives. And the fact that Nihat decided to use his flirtatious charm made Mevkibe bring on her calming charm herself, so much so that she reminded him that he was her blue eyed lion. They spent that evening holding on to their memories and on to each other...

On the other side of the town, Sanem stood at the doorstep to Can's house. She was still filled with doubt and worry. Even seeing Can open the door did not ease the knotts in her stomach. They actually twisted even worse. Can could not pinpoint what was going on in her head, but he knew something wasn't right. Something was off. Whether Sanem was willing to admit it or not. Instead of demanding answers, he held her close. He wanted his peace and calm energy to transfer to her. It worked, though only for a heartbeat. Because the moment he held her close the doors to the house opened, and none other Hüma herself waltzed in as if she owned the place.

Can was livid. Forget about being speechless. He was completely livid. And he let Hüma know how he felt about seeing her, but more importantly about seeing her suitcases. The fact that Emre agreed with her sick plan to stomp back into their lives as if nothing ever happened bothered him even more. The only good thing about that moment was Sanem. She brightened up his mood with one bright smile, which she offered to him even after Hüma made her put away her coat, as if Sanem was a servant and not his beloved.

The evening ran smoother than it began when the rest of the Fikri Harika employees arrived. They joined their thoughts and ideas about the next step of the campaign. And again, Sanem's thoughts and concentration were galaxies away. When Can asked her what she envisioned for the campaign, she offered a response that resulted in Deren rolling her eyes. She scolded Sanem for the lack of any idea that actually made sense. But, much to everyone's shock, Sanem's defense came from the most unlike source. Hüma. Sanem's head turned in a double take, so did everyone else's. But not Can's. Then, soon after Hüma asked Sanem for a cup of her çay, Hüma offered another compliment to Sanem for her skilled hands and a gift in çay brewing.

Though Sanem was thrilled, Can knew better. No one knew Hüma like he did. He saw right through her vague smile and insincere words. He tried his best to convince Sanem that it was pointless for her to try to win Hüma over. That Hüma's politeness was artificial. That her sweet words were filled with her sickening venom. And he did not need to wait long for affirmation of his words. He wasn't even surprised to see Ceyda waltz in and right into Hüma's wide open arms. He was surprised that they knew each other, but not at all surpised that they chirped together like happily cheerful vultures, awaiting their prey.

To Can, the evening soured to its limits. He was done, literally. When Deren approached him and asked if their meeting could end, he could not have agreed with her more. Everyone was leaving, and so was he. Hüma immediately voiced her opinion, right after Ceyda. Why didn't that surprise him at all? He almost laughed at the idea of Hüma and Ceyda's synchronized gestures and almost xeroxed facial expressions. If Hüma thought for a split second that he would have preferred their company, she was wrong. Completely wrong.

After Can dropped Sanem home, he drove to his mountain home. While Sanem enjoyed moments filled with love, happiness, and a sense of belonging to a family that cared about each other, he spent the rest of the night alone, and achingly lonely. The mountain home that was always his refuge now stood dark, cold, and unwelcoming. Turning on the lights did not help one bit. Deciding to gather courage, he reached for an old tin box. That box contained his entire childhood. Sanem may have grown up in an underprivileged family, but she was the lucky one. Where Sanem had an entire trunk full of happy memories, positive thoughts, and toys that still brought a smile to her face, Can only had a handful of items that meant something to him.

The tin box contained a few items Can had chosen to keep to remind him of his childhood. Among the few glass marbles, a toy car, and a toy figurine, there was a photo. A lone photo. An only photo he kept of his mother. He had sworn to himself long ago that he would never look at that photo with any emotion other than indifference. Indifference rooted in pain. Pain he felt when she left. And now pain felt because she had returned. Because, underneath it all, there was one constant and painful reminder of the difference between his mother and him. One painful difference. A difference in caring...