Defne rose from her seat and stared at Mrs.Turkan as insane.
- Grandma, what are you saying? My home is where you are and I have no other!
The old woman stood, straightening up and militantly pushing her chin forward. Having stamped her foot firmly said to her granddaughter:
- You got married. Your home is now where your husband is. You are a family!
Defne grabbed her head in horror with both hands and asked:
- Grandma, what family? We weren't family even a day. Omer filed for divorce. I signed the documents. There is no family.
"There is," said Mrs.Turkan. - Omer refused to divorce.
- I didn't refuse! Cried Defne and grabbed her grandmother's hand. Pleadingly looking into the eyes, she asked: - Don't do it! Please don't. I promise I won't stay with you for long. I will find work and an apartment away from our area and leave. But now let me go home.
"No," Mrs.Turkan remained adamant. "You go to your husband's house, period.
Iso, who was stunned to observe the strange behavior of aunt Turkan and the scene that could not be logical, went up to Defne and took her by the elbow.
- Defoe, don't be nervous. You can live with me.
Turkan looked at the guy and waved her hands.
- Look what you thought up! And as whom does a married woman come to live in your house? Do you want us to completely recover from shame? We still have Esra. Who will marry her after such a story?
Esra, for whom marriage was a very distant and vague prospect, and her sister's happiness was important and necessary, played along with her grandmother and pitifully twisted her lips.
Black eyes-olives were filled with tears, which sobered Defne. Grandma is right. There is Esra. The clever and golden child. She should not pay for her sister's mistakes. Defne understood that she had no right to cast a shadow on her reputation and future. She closed her eyes and sighed. Then she looked at her determined grandmother and said:
"You buried me and left no choice." Good. I will not aggravate the situation.
Mrs.Turkan smiled triumphantly and praised her granddaughter:
"Here is a clever girl," then she looked around the family and ordered: "Well, are you frozen?" We were convinced that everything was fine with Defne, she was discharged, her husband is nearby and takes care of her. Now we go home.
Throwing her head back, she proudly sailed out of the room. Behind her, smiling at Defne apologetically, Nihan and Serdar also went out. Iso, with an encouraging gesture, squeezed his Defoe's hand and recalled:
- I am your friend. Don't forget about it. If you need me, just call me.
Defne nodded.
Following Iso, Esra came up. She looked at her sister in the eye and hugged her tightly. Defne stroked her black-haired head and kissed the top of it.
- Run. Grandma is waiting.
Esra smiled her bright smile and ran after her family.
On the street, Serdar stopped his grandmother by the hand and looked into her face.
- Why? Omer caused Defne so much suffering. She almost died because of him. Why did you give him a chance?
Mrs.Turkan face was distorted from pain. She looked into her grandson's eyes and answered:
"Because he took her from death." He brought her back to life. He returned her with his love. What have I done? Allowed her to die. I agreed to turn off the device. If it weren't for Omer... How can I forgive myself?
Serdar silently embraced his grandmother and stroked her slender shoulders with his big hand.
Omer and Defne remained in the room together. He still could not believe in the reality of the scene that broke out here a few minutes ago. Мrs.Turkan completely sided with him. She pointed Defne to the threshold of his home. She left her no choice. Such a decision shocked him. Yes, he asked for help but did not think that it would be so harsh. But be that as it may, Defne goes to his house. To their house. They will live together, and he will find a way to convince her of his love.
He went up to the girl frozen in a stupor and put an arm around her shoulders. She woke up. With a motion of the shoulder, she threw off his hand, took her bag from the nightstand and left the room. Omer hurried after her.
Defne did not utter a word either in the corridor or in the elevator. On the street, she went down the steps of the porch and headed past the car park to the road. Adrenaline and anger gave her strength and made her forget about weakness in her legs and fog before her eyes.
Omer caught her hand.
- Where are you going?
"To the bus stop," she said through gritted teeth.
- Defne, don't be silly. What bus stop? We are going home.
- You are going. And I'm going to look for an apartment and a job.
- What kind of eccentricity? You're just out of the hospital, you're weak, you're barely on your feet. And how are you going to look for an apartment without money?
"It doesn't concern you," Defne snapped and tried to pull her hand out. But Omer held tight.
She had some money. On the card that was in the pocket of the handbag brought by Nihan. There was also her passport. But she was not going to talk about this to Omer. Angry with her obstinacy, he grabbed an almost weightless figure in his arms and carried it to the car. At the same time, he didn't forget to inform her.
- It concerns me, my love! Very much. We are going home.
"Don't call me that," she demanded, angry at his perseverance and her impotence.
"I'll call you as I want," he snapped.
Sukru was already waiting for them at the car and immediately helpfully opened the back door. Omer set Defne deeper into the salon and sat next to her, clutching his muscular, hot body to her, fragile and cold. She immediately moved to the opposite door and turned to the driver:
- Brother Sukru, hello! Kindly give me a lift to any inexpensive hotel.
The man's face tensed, and he looked bewildered at the boss. Omer soothingly patted his shoulder and declared:
- Don't mind Sukru. Defne is joking. Let's go home.
The driver breathed a sigh of relief, smiled and started the car. Defne squeezed her lips angrily and turned to the window. Omer, not paying attention to her protest, got comfortable and turned to Sukru:
" Zehra isn't too busy right now?" I wanted to ask her to come every day and help out in the kitchen. Defne needs to gain strength and good homemade food will be very welcome. Yes, and there will be more work in the house. After all, it's not a bachelor who's going to live in it, now it's a family.
Defne understood that Omer provoked her with his reasoning, but persistently tried to hold on and not react to his words. Only her left hand involuntarily clenched into a fist. Omer, as if by habit, gently stroked it and squeezed it with a warm palm. Defne angrily pulled out and crossed her arms over her chest. And this arrogant insolent man only smirked knowingly.
Sukru, not guessing about the hidden intentions of the boss, innocently answered:
"Of course, Mr. Omer!" Zehra will be happy to come every day. Defne needs care - she's so skinny. As if the wind would blow her away.
"So through and through," Defne muttered indignantly.
"Sukru is right," Omer stood up for the driver. "You are very thin and pale." In addition, you herself heard what the doctor said: positive emotions and good nutrition are what you now need. And I'm going to do it right up close.
"Not worth it," Defne said, still looking out the car window.
She felt like Alice in the Looking Glass. The familiar world turned upside down. What she considered unshakable fell apart like a house of cards. Grandmother, always loving and merciful, closed the doors of her home in front of her. With her own hands, she pushed her towards Omer. What for? After all, that was ... Tears lumped in her throat, but Defne held them back. She will no longer show her weakness. Neither to Omer nor anyone else. And she also does not want care. From no ones. Especially Omer's. Now she has no choice and will have to live in his house for several days, but as soon as she finds an apartment and work, she will immediately leave and begin to build a new life.
Omer, trying not to pay attention to her stubborn detachment, also mentally made plans for a new life. Home, breakfast and dinner together, the return to Passionis, where Defne will be again in his sight. Her office, fenced off by its glass wall, is already waiting for its mistress. And there will be evenings and nights. He decided to hold on to thoughts of the latter. First Defne must finally recover, gain strength, and also listen to him and understand that he has changed. It takes time, but he agrees to patiently wait for as long as necessary.
The car stopped in its usual place at the gate. Defne got out of the car and looked at the house. Everything is as tall, slender, dark as its master. Noting has changed since the moment when the simple-minded Defne saw it for the first time. But she is now completely different. There is no longer a naive enthusiastic fool who looked with her mouth open at the house and Omer.
She barely had time to get around the car, when her legs lifted off the ground, and again she was pressed to a wide chest covered in blue cotton."Omer, I'm not disabled," she said indignantly. - Put me on my feet.
But he seemed not to hear. He thanked Sukru and asked him to open the door. He stepped with his burden through the threshold and smiled broadly.
- Here you go! Everything is as it should be. The mistress came into the house - he brought Defne to the living room, sat her on the sofa and knelt before her. He caught her eye and looked deeply into her eyes, asked: - I'm sorry that because of my anger and pride we lost so much time. I promise to compensate every day. Just say what you want and I will do everything. Do you want to go to mom's house or the sea? Izmir, Bodrum, Belek - choose what you want. Or maybe, as we dreamed, we will fly to Bali? - Omer immediately frowned and shook his head. - No, Bali is a bad idea. You do not need long flights and a different climate now. So what about Belek?
Defne looked at him like he was insane. What's he talking about?
"You didn't hear me at all yesterday?" What Bali? Which Belek? I was left with no choice, and therefore I am here. For a few days. As soon as I find an apartment, I will immediately move.
Omer frowned and rose to his feet. Stepping aside, he took off his blue linen jacket and threw it on the back of the sofa. He pulled out his blue T-shirt and firmly ordered:
- Forget it. You are my wife and you will not leave this house.
"Allah-Allah," Defne was indignant. - In what century do we live?
- It doesn't matter.
Defne ignored the last sentence. She was not going to prove anything. Meaningless disputes only took away her strength, and she did not have too many of it. She got up from the couch and headed for the stairs.
- Where are you going? Omer asked.
"I want to take a shower," Defne answered and, seeing that Omer was heading towards her, put her hand forward with her palm up and minted: "Alone!" And I will go up to the bathroom on my feet.
Her gaze was so prickly and decisive that Omer did not argue. He only sighed.
- Well, be your way. Your clothes are in the dressing room, underwear in the middle drawer of the chest of drawers. Don't close the door to the bathroom.
Defne silently turned away and went upstairs. Each step was given to her with difficulty. Her legs gave way and there was fog in her eyes. She tried her best to block the memories, but they zealously returned and excited the mind. There were so many happy and sad and each whispered:
"Remember? You were happy ... "
"Remember? You were in pain..."
"Remember? He took off the ring ... "
She turned around and looked at Omer from the flight of stairs. He did not leave. He stood at the bottom of the stairs and looked directly at her. The palm of his left hand rested against the wall. An engagement ring gleamed on the ring finger. A symbol of endless love and fidelity.
"In Marseilles ... did you take off the ring?" - She did not want to ask. She didn't want to. But the words themselves flew off the tongue.
- No.
She nodded and slowly turning continued to climb the stairs.
In the bedroom, the first thing that caught her eye was the bed. New and beautiful. For some reason, its appearance touched her heart warmly. She even smiled for a moment, but then she remembered the veil on the red carpet, the crying grandmother, the road she looked at day after day, and the ice crust around her heart regained its integrity.
Defne entered the dressing room. Her clothes, which she bought before the wedding with such unbridled joy and hope, were neatly placed on hangers and shelves. But there were things that she did not recognize. Evening dresses and suits from fashion brands, each of which cost several of her salaries. Frowning, she turned away, took the first T-shirt and shorts that came across, and went to the dresser. She opened the middle drawer and stared in shock at the contents. What is this? She didn't buy that. And never wore it. Defne picked up a black lace bra with her finger. Even without trying on, she understood that it would fit perfectly. It will emphasize the beauty of the breast and the whiteness of the skin. Turns her from a homely mouse into a fire lioness. So that's how Omer wanted to see her? Such as ... Iz. Defne, squeezing her lips, threw off her lace thing and rummaged in the depths of the drawer and found what she bought herself - a simple but cute set of linen. Grabbing everything she went to the bathroom. And again she was surprised. Next to men's shampoo and gel, there are women's. On the stand, there were two toothbrushes. On the side shelf lay a powerful hairdryer and hair styling devices. It seems she was expected here. But why?
Shaking her head, she threw off her treacherous thoughts and pulled up a green T-shirt.
Warm water relaxed and added strength. Defne, closing her eyes, stood for a long time under its streams. Then she reached for the shampoo. It smelled delicate and expensive. Not at all like those floral aromas that she herself used. Having told herself not to think about it, Defne generously splashed the pearl liquid in her palm.
She did not straighten her hair, only dried it with a hairdryer, and gathered curls into a high tail. The shorts, like all her clothes, were too big and, instead of sitting on the waist, went down to the hips. Defne tried to pull them up, and then she waved her hand and decided that there was nothing criminal in the strip of bare skin between the edge of the T-shirt and the belt of the shorts. Without really looking at herself in the mirror, she got out of the bathroom and immediately ran into Omer. Dressed in shorts and a T-shirt for home, with his arms crossed on his chest he supported the wall with his shoulder.
As soon as he saw Defnе, in one second his bored glance was lit up by a fire.
- Do you need the bathroom? She asked suspiciously squinting.
"I need you!" He answered mentally and walked closer.
- No, I was waiting for you.
- What for?
She was as small and feeble as a child. But her skin no longer seemed bluishly pale. She turned pink. Like her lips. So beautiful, soft. Omer could not take his eyes off them. His lips tingled with the urge to kiss them. But he was afraid. He was afraid that Defne would even more deeply wrap himself in her ice cocoon and then he would never be able to reach her.
Avoiding the temptation, Omer looked from her lips to her hair. He touched and twisted a copper lock on his finger. Defne frowned. With her hand, she freed the lock of hair and threw it behind her. And then she said in exasperation:
"If you are not going to answer, then let me pass."
"I'm going tо," he did not budge. He stood with his legs wide apart, scorching her with eyes and preventing her from passing by with her head held high. She is not a mouse to sneak through. With her eyes, Defne measured the distance between the wall and Omer. "You didn't go out for a long time." I was scared that you felt sick.
"I'm not feeling bad," Defne answered and tried to go around him.
But he did not allow it. He blocked the road and touched her cheek with his palm. So soft. The heart pounded in her chest and began to beat inside the ice shell. He stroked her cheekbone with his thumb and smiled.
- That's great. I warmed up dinner and set the table. Let's go to the dining room.
He took Defne's hand and pulled her after him to the stairs. She got stubborn. She pressed her heels to the floor and tried to pull out her hand.
- I don't want to eat. Dine alone, and I'll eat later.
But Omer was not impressed by her objections.
- Do I have to carry you in my arms? - he asked. Defne shook her head. "Then don't be stubborn." Forgot what the doctor said? You need to eat well. Zehra made excellent sarma and eggplant salad. There are milk baklava and your favorite oatmeal cookies.
Persuading with his velvet voice, he persistently pulled her hand to the stairs.
"Ok, I'm coming," Defne agreed. "Just let go of my hand."
- Are you afraid that I'll burn it, and the Snow Queen will melt? - Omer flashed a smile, but let go of her hand.
"You have a too high opinion of yourself," she muttered sarcastically as she walked past. "I'm afraid not to catch your swift gait and crash down the stairs."
He caught her by the waist and clasped his hands tightly, pressed her back to his chest. Bringing his lips burning with fire to her ear, he said:
- You're not going to crash. There's never any way I'm going to let you fall.
Defne froze. For a second, only for one second, she closed her eyes and allowed herself happiness to be in his beloved hands. To melt with bliss. To die of tenderness. But the next moment her eyes opened. And in them again were indifference and emptiness.Having removed his hands, she took a step back, looked around and asked:
"No, Omer." Don't do it. Do not make promises that you cannot fulfill.
The playful mood has melted. Omer looked seriously, a fire blazed in his eyes.
"Why do you think I won't do it?"
His look was so sincere. But Defne did not believe. He made promises to her so many times. Do not let go of her hand. Do not part. Love only her. And then he let her go ... he rejected her
Defne turned away and, going down the stairs, threw over her shoulder:
- Let's go to dinner.
Omer's chest tightened. Taking a deep breath, he ran a hand over his face and followed.
Silence reigned at the table. Only forks and knives pounded on the white earthenware plates. Oddly enough, sitting at the table Defne felt that she was very hungry. She ate almost everything that Omer put on her plate. Grabbing it, Defne got up from the table and headed for the kitchen.
- Defne, leave it! - At one point, Omer was nearby and took the plate from her hands. - I'll clean it myself. And you go and rest.
She silently handed over the plate and left the kitchen. Omer set it on the table and clasped his head in his hands. How difficult with this new Defne. She, like a prickly hedgehog, curled up in a ball, put out her needles and did not want to listen or speak.
Defne went into the garden. Leaning her back and nape against the brick wall, she closed her eyes and moaned softly. How hard it is to keep the mask of detachment and indifference when the heart is bleeding and mercilessly sad.
For the next day, she avoided Omer. When he went into the garden and invited her to play golf, she replied that she was tired and went into the house. There, Proust's book, Missing Albertine, caught her eye. She sat on the sofa with it and plunged into reading, but soon Omer appeared in the living room with an easel and pencils, sat next to her and began to draw. Defne honestly tried not to pay attention to him. But the heat caming from his large body, which attracted her and deprived of her will. There was also a scent. The fresh, tart, heady smell of a man. Her head was spinning and thoughts scattered.
Printed lines blurred before her eyes, and she did not understand a word from what she read. Putting the book aside, Defne went into the kitchen. It was necessary to keep busy with something. For example, dinner. She looked into the refrigerator. In a glass bowl salmon marinated in a lemon. On the lower shelf are vegetables and herbs. And there are fruits, nuts, and yogurt. She can make a fruit salad.
Defne put everything on the table and began to wash fruits and vegetables.
"Let me help," Omer's voice sounded so unexpectedly that Defne started and dropped a pear into the sink. Picking up a sweet-smelling fruit, she set it under a stream of water and asked:
"Don't you need to draw an autumn collection?"
- I'll be in time, - Omer waved off and taking out a frying pan, set it on fire. - In addition, the collection is almost ready. I drew it before our wedding.
Omer bit his tongue right away, but it was too late. Defne's back straightened unnaturally, she laid the pear aside and turned to leave the kitchen.
"Wait," he caught her hand. - Don't leave. Let's pretend for a couple of hours that we don't have a past and just cook dinner. I swear I will not anger you with revelations and I will not touch you.
In confirmation of his words, he let her go, stepped back and raised his palms.
Defne was torn to pieces. Her pride demanded to leave, but pragmatic reason said that by leaving she would only aggravate the situation. Omer will spit on the promise and will crush her like a tank. She did not understand why, but he clearly decided that he did not want a divorce and began the offensive campaign "Return of wife". His hot eyes, burning touch, a deep voice, and a devilish smile drove her crazy, broke her will. They ruined all the decisions made and begged to forget about the pain experienced and surrender to him. But Defne knew: the sweeter this captivity will be, the higher she will rise in the sky - the harder she would hit the ground and break to death.
She needs time. A few days, and then she leaves and starts all over again. But so that these few days do not break her life, she needs to communicate with Omer evenly. Without stormy scenes and her soul turned inside out.
She accepted his offer. She nodded silently and returned to the kitchen table.
Omer felt dizzy with relief. He smiled broadly and took up fish.
While they were cooking, and then, at supper, they talked about various trifles, carefully avoiding topics that Omer desperately wanted to talk about, and Defne also desperately wanted to leave behind.
Omer left the bathroom and looked at the glass wall of the bedroom. The curtain is drawn and it is dark inside. It's strange. Did he take such a shower for so long that Defne managed to fall asleep? Although ... she is such a sleepy head. Omer smiled warmly, but the noise in the library made the smile slip from his face. He listened and then opened the bedroom door. The bed is empty and there is no sign of Defne. He hurried down. The light was dimly lit in the library. Defne in purple pajamas and with her hair spread out over her shoulders made a bed on the sofa.
- Defne, what are you doing?
Omer tried to speak calmly, but Defne still flinched at the sound of his voice. Without stopping her work, she replied:
"I'm making my own bed." I'm tired and I want to lie down.
"You will not sleep here."
He went up and took the blanket from her hands. He threw it on the sofa and turned her face to himself.
"Defne, the bedroom is at your disposal." His eyes glowed with dark fire. It burned Defne to the very heart and melted the ice shell. " I want to share it with you. Very much! But I'll be patient. One day you'll know I love you more than life and you'll believe me.
Defne covered her ears with her hands and closed her eyes.
- Shut up!
Omer wrapped his fingers around her thin wrists and pulled her palms from her head.
- Defne ...
"Don't you dare tell me about love," she cried and pulled her hands out of his grip. - Don't you dare! You have no idea about it. If pride is more important, if you can live without a person, if you do not care about his suffering - it's not loving!
- Not love? And then what is love? - with a darkened face and a burning look, he stepped on her and Defne was frightened. She backed up and put forward her hand.
- Don't come.
But Omer did not hear. He caught her and squeezed her in a hug so that Defne's bones cracked. His right hand gripped the back of her head and his mouth, hard with anger, pounced on her trembling lips. He tormented her and splashed out his despair and his passion. There was no tenderness in this kiss, only an obsessive need to feel it, a demand to her to obey. He kissed and kissed, and only the taste of salt made him let go of her swollen lips and look at Defne's face. It was flooded with tears. They flowed from under closed eyelashes, and each burned a hole in his heart.
Omer pressed her head to his chest and hoarsely asked:
- Sorry. I've gone crazy.
"I'm tired," she whispered softly. - So tired...
He grabbed her in his arms and carried her upstairs. To the bedroom. He laid her on the bed and covered with a thin blanket. Himself crouched nearby. He ran a hand over his face and, looking at the wall, said:
"I felt so bad without you ... At first, I was angry and anger clouded my eyes. And then thoughts began to slowly gain clarity. I thought and thought, and realized that you could not do otherwise. Not yet knowing the reason, I realized that it was. The one that made you make a deal with Aunt Neriman. Serdar's debt and the threat to his life. I found out later. And then - I remembered your every word and every look. Your kindness to others and the desire to help everyone who needs it. Your dedication. Your big heart. And I realized that I was mistaken ... Defne, I decided to return before Sinan called me and told me ... - Omer fell silent. The experience again surged through like an ice wave and trembling passed through his body. He turned to Defne, quietly lying under the covers, and looked into her eyes.
- Forgive me. I'm sorry.
She was silent, but her face no longer seemed a frozen mask of cold indifference. It radiated bitterness, dreary sorrow, and compassion. Omer carefully covered her hand with his. She did not push away and did not remove her icy palm. Only whispered softly:
- Don't. Do not apologize. We were both wrong.
Omer brought her hand to his lips and kissed his palm.
- Do you believe me? He asked, barely audible.
Defne sighed convulsively. Thin fingers clenched into a fist. She made up her mind. She looked keenly into his eyes and asked:
"There, in Marseilles, were you with Iz?"