Defne sat on a neatly made bed and bit her lips thoughtfully. Her eyes returned to the ring finger of her left hand. The ring shone with a warm, golden light in the sun. Defne stroked it and frowned. Ring. One ring. Omer put only one ring on her finger. She tried not to think about it for two days. Fortunately, it was not at all difficult. Omer did not give her a single free minute. Not a step away. Showered her with caresses and kisses. He loved her to exhaustion and demanded her undivided attention every minute and every second. He would still be nearby, and most likely the bed would not have looked so neat if Sinan had not called him on a very important issue. He went out onto the veranda, and she decided to go upstairs and collect their things. The boat will arrive for them in an hour and it was necessary to hurry.
But putting their clothes in their suitcase, she kept staring at the ring finger of her left hand. And uncertainty raised its head again. Why did Omer decide not to return his mom's ring to her finger? Doubts entered her head, but she resolutely fought them back. Omer loves her. He proved it in hundreds of different ways...
- My love!!! A velvet voice rumbled somewhere in the house. - Where are you?!
- Here! She answered. - In the bedroom!
Quick steps were heard and Omer burst into the room. Smiling, he tumbled down next to Defne on the bed and put an arm around her shoulders. Having buried his nose in her temple, he kissed a warm cheek and informed his wife:
- I miss you.
- So quickly? She answered mockingly and raised her face to him.
- Quickly?! I haven't seen you for twenty minutes! - His lips, leaving wet traces, moved to the corner of her mouth. - I missed you ... I missed you, - the lips continued their movement, kissed the tip of the nose, eyes, forehead. After each kiss, he whispered: - I can't breathe without you ... I can't live ... my love...
Defne wrapped her arms around his head and pushed him away from her. She looked into his eyes so piercingly, with such excruciating hope that Omer was frightened. What else did his wife think of for herself?
- Defne? He called.
"You really love me so much," she asked, and her huge, amber eyes looked straight into his soul.
- So much. Even more than that," Omer answered firmly. "How can I not love you?" You are so tender and beautiful. - He touched a finger to her lips. "When you're not with me, it's dark and cold." And when you smile at me, here, - he touched his chest with his hand, - the light turns on. It is so powerful that it drives the darkness out of my heart...
When in your hair, - Omer gently pulled at the red curl, - the sun gets confused and they sparkle - I fall into a stupor. And I can do nothing else but admire ... When you look at me sweetly with your amber eyes, - he took turns kissing the outer corners of her eyes, - I am dying of happiness. And when you say that you love me ... I feel like a King.
Defne caught her breath and the heart in her chest pounded like crazy.
"You are a King," she said hoarsely. - My king...
She pressed her lips to his mouth and Omer closed his eyes from piercing, incomparable pleasure. Defne loves him. That is happiness.
The phone began to buzz in his pocket. Both Omer and Defne sighed in disappointment - the outside world invaded their isolated paradise and reminded that it was time to return.
"Yes, Jean ... we're ready." We'll be there in ten minutes," the confident and powerful Omer Iplikci answered the call. But another one turned to Defne - loving and warm. He smiled with sincere regret and said:
- It's time, my love. The boat is waiting for us.
"But," Defne objected perplexedly, "I did not manage to collect all our things.
"Leave them," Omer pulled her hand. - They will collect everything and deliver it home. Do not think about it.
Defne did not argue. She dutifully followed her husband. And only on the threshold stopped and looked around. Inside this room was the happiest night of her life. A night that carried away all fears and doubts. The night that gave her the seventh heaven. She looked at her left hand and shook her head. It doesn't matter! Omer knows what he's doing. If he does not want his mom's ring back on her finger, then so it should be. The main thing is that he loves her. The rest doesn't matter.
Istanbul met a young family with rain. It started suddenly when the boat was already moored to the pier. The sea from blue and tender in an instant turned into gray. Large drops hit the billowing waves and large bubbles appeared at the site of the impact.
"To bad weather," Defne recalled grandmother's words and smiled. Even if there are falling stones from the sky, she doesn't care. She is happy!
Sukru, with a big umbrella in his hands, was waiting for them on the pier. Seeing the boss and his wife, he immediately rushed to cover them, but still, Omer and Defne, while getting out of the boat, managed to get pretty wet. In the car, Omer hugged his wife by the shoulders and ordered the driver to turn on the heating and drive quickly.
- Defne is wet. God forbid to get cold, - he added alarmed, to which Defne herself only laughed and whispered a reminder in his ear - illness does not cling to happy people. Omer broke into a smile and kissed her temple. But at home, barely crossing the threshold, he grabbed her in his arms and carried her into the shower, under hot water. In less than ten minutes, not only the water became hot in the bathroom...
And then Omer lighted the fireplace in the living room and sat Defne, dressed in one silk shirt, on a spread fluffy rug. He dried her hair, passed it through his fingers, combed and kissed each curl. When they dried up and turned into fire silk, for a long time he fingered them and admired the reflection of the fire in the wavy curls, touched them with his cheek and enjoy their tenderness. But Defne thought - she went to heaven, where it is warm and calm. Where gentle hands and lips give bliss. Where the fire does not burn. Where ice cream is sweet, like nectar, and wine is strong and heady. A paradise where tenderness burns in dark eyes. Where you can touch the love with your fingertips, breathe deeply, taste it. And even a gloomy, bachelor's house today was favorable toward her, albeit with arrogant cordiality. Defne for the first time did not feel here as an intruder of the order and style. What did Omer say? He laughed infectiously, like a boy, and invited her to describe the house of her dreams. She laid her head on his lap and fulfilled his request with a touching smile.
- It should be spacious and bright. With high ceilings and huge windows. And so that the floors are not cold stone, but a warm tree. Тhe kitchen should be large and comfortable. Such, where there is enough room for everyone ..., - Omer smiled and removed a lock of hair from her forehead. He listened, memorizing every word. And Defne continued to voice her dreams: - I want a fireplace in the living room, and front of it are two rocking chairs, covered with checkered rugs. And so that the room has floor-to-ceiling windows, light curtains, lots of soft sofas and flowers.
- And our bedroom? Omer asked hoarsely.
Impatient fingers stroking her face, neck, collarbone. Long, beautifully shaped, they easily touched porcelain skin. His, not covered by clothes, strong chest was heaving rhythmically and high. Defne stroked it and, raising a mocking eyebrow, replied:
"The main thing is to have a large bed," Omer threw back his head and laughed briskly. And Defne again returned to a dreamy tone: - Well, still the walls not to be gloomy, airy curtains, a large balcony hung with flowers.
Dressing table with a mirror in an old frame, fluffy carpet on the floor. Large dressing room. One for two. In the mornings, we will help each other get dressed.
Now Omer arched an eyebrow. Incredulously.
"Darling, I doubt that after my help you will find yourself dressed," he warned, and his hand slipped past the neckline of her shirt.
Defne gently hit it and sarcastically answered:
- It is assumed that at that moment you will be a satiated lazy cat.
- I??? - Omer was surprised and continued with absolute certainty: - My love, this is impossible. For a hundred years I can't get enough of you. And, believe me, I never and for nothing will miss a single chance to love you.
With the swiftness and flexibility of a predator, he made only one movement, and Defne was pressed to the rug under his body. In black eyes, a flame lit up and with every millisecond it became stronger. It flared up and turned into a fire.
"As it is now," he said in a low, soft as velvet voice, and reached out to kiss Defne.
Thin fingers pressed against his lips. Defne looked a little sly, but her eyes shone like honey in the sun. Smiling at the corner of her mouth, she stopped him:
"I haven't talked about other rooms yet."
Omer sighed in disappointment and, resting on his elbows, raised his torso. Resigning himself to the delay, he allowed:
- Tell me.
Defne smiled. In her eyes began to play sun glare. Or maybe it was a reflection of the fire in the fireplace ... or happiness and hope?
"There should be at least three of them," she said. - Spacious, bright and warm. Pink or blue is not important. Then we repaint...
The fire in Omer's eyes took on unprecedented proportions.
"You ... do you agree?" - Even before the end, not believing that he understood it correctly, he asked.
- Do you ask? She answered and pulled his head to her.
The fire swept the whole world.
***
- What is my beloved wife doing?
Immersed in the work, Defne flinched and looked up. Omer, shining with a smile, he by no means shouldn't be here now, entered her office.
"What are you doing here?" - She was surprised and turned her cheek for a kiss. "Shouldn't you be at a meeting with investors right now?"
"I escaped," he answered frivolously and kissed the exposed cheek, then her lips. - I told Sinan that I have a very urgent matter and let him cope without me.
"Ahhh," Defne shook her head. "And when did this honest and principled Omer Iplikci learn to lie?"
"I didn't lie at all," Omer sat down on the table and pulled her by the curl. - I have an urgent matter. I didn't see my wife for four hours and I missed you. Maybe let's go have lunch?
Defne looked at her watch and answered.
- In ten minutes. It is not a lunch break yet. I can't break discipline and leave earlier. She raised a regretful face to her husband. Omer sighed. He was fed up with these restrictions around his Defne. - Darling, after Milan, you apply for dismissal and return to Passionis?
He looked with such hope that at Defne everything broke off inside. And how to tell him? But there is still no choice. She is no longer Defne, who is afraid and dodges. She is no longer the bird that lies.
"I cannot leave Tranba," she admitted honestly.
- Why? - Omer was taken aback. He did not expect such an answer at all.
- I have a contract. For two years, - Defne explained.
Omer's face darkened. He jumped to his feet and swept around the office. Three steps. Wall. U-turn. Six steps. Wall. U-turn. Three steps. Half turn. An angry look at the calm and not guilty face of his wife. Furious voice charge.
"Defne, how could you be so stupid?" Why did you sign a contract? And even for two years?
"Calm down," Defne nodded to the chair on the other side of the table. - Sit down.
Omer obeyed. But black eyes threw a lightning and Defne seemed to see the steam coming from his ears. Yes, some things have never changed at all. For example, the temper of Omer and his anger, which flared up in a split second. That is why she must now be calm and reasonable.
"Do you remember the two hundred thousand that your aunt gave me for cheating with love for rent?" - Omer nodded warily. - I gave them to her. But the debt has not gone away. Fikret lent me the money, and Tranba gave it to her. For choosing his company, and not Passionis for cooperation in her defile. The one you and Sinan ruined. Tranba demanded a return of debt from Fikret and she from me. So I ended up here. Mr. Denise proposed a deal - if I can win the competition for the festival my debt will be canceled. I agreed.
And, thanks to a certain brilliant strategist, I turned out to be both a winner and a loser. A strange situation that was not foreseen by the previously signed contract. Tranba proposed to sign a new one, according to which the debt is still canceled, but I have to work for two years for his company. This is the story.
Omer sat as though crestfallen. Debt. Two hundred thousand about which he knew, but considered something abstract. And the money was real and the real Defne had to give it back. His Defne. Weak after the coma. Lonely. Unemployed ... And he again turned out to be aside from her problems.
"I will return the money to Denise, we will break the contract, and you will return to Passionis," Omer resolutely declared.
"No," Defne protested calmly.
- What do you mean "no"?! Cried Omer. "Defne, did you decide to drive me crazy?"
"No means no," Defne's tone hardened. "I do not want to leave Tranba and return to Passionis."
- Why?!
He punched the table. Unable to sit still, he was ready to get to his feet again, but Defne's small hand covered his fist, and he remained seated.
"Please understand me," she asked. "If I return to Passionis, I will become your shadow, your continuation." Dissolve in you again ... become a habit. I do not want it. I want to be the person whom you can respect. You can be proud.
- Defne, what are you saying? Shadow, habit? What nonsense. Are we not one? - Omer turned his palm squeezed her fingers. "I love you, and you will always be the most important person for me."
"You still don't understand," Defne removed her hand and shook her head. She sat up straight in her chair and said firmly: "I will not return to Passionis as a shoe designer." End.
She waited for him to break loose, slam the door, to stop talking to her. Omer from the past would do just that. But the current Omer took her hand and pulled her out of the office.
"Let's go to lunch," he grumbled. "Ten minutes have long passed."
***
Omer sat in his office and stared blankly out the window. Before him lay a report that should be carefully studied, but after a dozen attempts to read the first paragraph, he abandoned fruitless attempts. Defne's words that she would not return to Passionis as a shoe designer were stuck in his head and were turning around in his brain. Will not return as a shoe designer ... a shoe designer ... a shoe. Will not return ... No! It's impossible. He will not leave her there. And it's not even that this is Tranba's company. For some time now he began to look at Denise with different eyes. But there is Kivanc Talat. An envious, narcissistic bastard who looks at Defne incorrectly and allows himself to raise his voice at her.
The door slammed. Satisfied Sinan, singing а halai, with a dance step entered the office and fell into the visitor chair.
- It happened! He reported. Investors are interested in the project, and they agree to put money in the charity show.
"Fine," Omer nodded restrainedly. - Tranba did not put sticks in the wheels?
- Not. He was only surprised that you did not come to such an important meeting. And then in a conversation with investors, he was very convincing. By the way, they are pleased that this is a joint project and there will be no war and tug of war between Passionis and Tranba. And so their risks are minimized," Sinan grinned. - It turns out that peace and cooperation with competitors are more beneficial than the Cold War.
"Hm-m yes," Omer agreed thoughtfully.
He ran a hand through his hair at the nape, then stroked his beard and scratched his mustache over the corner of his mouth. Sinan watched his manipulations with increasing anxiety. He knew his friend very well and knew that such gestures are a sign of nervousness. But where is it from and what is it connected with? After all, everything is in order. Preparations for the Milan shoe festival are in full swing, and the presentation of the winter collection is also underway. The charity show takes on real features. Omer made peace with his wife and no further, as this morning he shone with a well-fed smile, like a cat overeating sour cream.
- Brother, what are you thinking about? - Leaving the humorous tone, Sinan seriously took an interest in Omer staring at one point.
He shook his head and looked inquiringly at his partner.
"Sinan, do you think it's time for us to grow?"
- What does it mean to grow? - his friend wondered.- We are already growing. We have opened a store. The sales level for all items is excellent...
"I'm talking about something else," Omer interrupted. - Maybe we should look in other directions? Not just shoes. The wider the assortment, the stronger the firm stands on its feet.
Sinan's eyes went wide. This crazy Iplikci knows how to surprise.
- Have you decided to do design in other areas? - he asked.
Omer shook his head.
- These are just thoughts and ideas. But I want to know how you look at it.
Sinan shrugged and scratched his head thoughtfully. He spread his arms and answered:
- You are the master of surprises. What do I think? I think it's normal. But you need to specify the idea and me to calculate the risks.
"Later," Omer smiled faintly and bit his lower lip. Sinan is right. But to concretize the thought, one still needs to find out which way to move and which area of design is interesting for his stubborn, obstinate, but such an infinitely beloved wife.
In the following days, he tried to find out. He supplied fashion magazines for her and not very delicate tried to found out if Defne wants to change or improve something in the images of models? Clothes, accessories. Or maybe she wants to draw something of her own? To which Defne only shrugged indifferently.
She was not interested in either clothes or handbags. And in the hats, she was not interested either.
For some reason, her thoughts circled around the ring. She reconciled to the fact that the ring of Omer's mother would not return to her finger. She herself, not knowing why, but she was sure of it. And accepted it. But secretly dreamed of a ring that she would like to see on her hand. And even tried to draw. Warm gold and a square ruby surrounded by a scattering of diamonds. It turned out pretty well. She admired her work and stuck it in a pile of rejected drawings.
And Omer, desperate to arouse interest in Defne in the design of clothes and accessories, was looking for a way to convince and return his wife to Passionis under his wing. He accepted her desire to be an independent designer but did not accept her work in another company. With the tenacity of a jackhammer, he sought a way out of this situation. And intensified the sensual attack. He was insatiable and tireless. He showered Defne with burning caresses and frantic kisses. He drove her crazy and exalted her to the stars. Every night, returning from heaven and exhausted, laying back on the bed, Defne thought that there was no greater happiness, but the new day came and Omer proved the opposite. By his love, tenderness, and care, hot sensuality and passion without borders and shores, he was showing that happiness has no limit. It is boundless and infinite. Like love.
***
On Thursday, Nisа Berensel underwent a bone marrow transplant. Seda left on Wednesday evening for the hospital where she was supposed to be prepared for transplantation. Defne was worried about her friend, and on the day of the operation, closer to dinner, she asked for leave from Tranba and left for the hospital. Omer also wanted to go after her, but it turned out that Sinan was ahead of him and the second boss had no choice but to stay within the walls of the company and solve current problems. And still silently surprised at his friend's attention to the creative director of the company Tranba.
Working until two in the afternoon, he nevertheless threw things off to Iz and went to the hospital. He tried not to think exactly where he was going. Eleven years have passed. Memories lost their clarity and the pain dulled. He will be able to calmly enter through these doors. He will be able. Will he be able to?
Sukru stopped the car in the hospital parking lot. Omer went out and, unable to move on, froze in place. The building was familiar to him. Too familiar. Yes, a lot has changed in eleven years, but an aura of longing, despair, and hopelessness still enveloped him in a dense cocoon. Memories, bitter, heavy, painful, flooded like an icy stream. Not at all blurry, but clear. Mom's weak voice. The crying father. And his fear. Anger. Negation. Mom will not live. How will she not live? Indeed, without her eyes, smile, tender voice, the world will become cold and dark?!
And he became like that. For a long ten years, he became icy and gloomy. Until one day a red ray of light burst into him and filled him with warmth and color.
Omer looked at the hospital. Somewhere out there amid despair, fear, and hopelessness, his ray of light shines. Like for him, she gives everyone around her warmth and participation. Inspires hope. Banishes the darkness. He will not scare her with his memories and a sullen look. Now he will sit a bit in the hospital park, and then he will go inside.
He did so. He sat on a bench in the shadow of a big tree and closed his eyes.
"Hello," a melodious but weak voice forced him to open them. A girl, very young, in a hospital gown and a blue scarf tied around her head, stood near the bench and looked at him with huge blue eyes. Despite the pallor and almost transparent thinness, she was very beautiful. Graceful, with thin, like an angel, facial features and clean skin. But the look ... Omer's heart sank. In her gaze were universal sadness, hope, and thirst for life. Like his mom used to be.
The girl smiled and asked:
"May I sit next to you."
- Of course!
Omer moved, and she sat next to him. She looked at him and said:
"But I know you." You are Omer Iplikci, a brilliant shoe designer. I have your shoes. The most liked. Dad gave them to me. I think about them every day," the girl smiled dreamily. - I imagine how I will dance in them at the prom. It will be in May.
Omer had a lump in his throat. It squeezed his vocal cords and did not allow them to speak. And it didn't let him breathe either. Omer inhales through his nose, but it stuck in his larynx and did not want to fill his lungs.
"Why did you come here?" The girl asked.
With an effort of will, Omer swallowed the lump and answered in a terribly hoarse, unlike his own voice:
"My wife's friend's sister operation is performed here today." Bone marrow transplantation ... Perhaps you know her. Nisa Berensel.
- Nisa? - asked the girl. - Of course, I know her. We are in the same room. She's lucky. Her sister could become a donor. "She sighed sadly. "And I have no sister, no brother." I am alone with my parents. And there is no money for the donor either.
"There will be money," Omer promised and awkwardly patted the girl on the shoulder. "Don't think about it." Keep dreaming. You have a beautiful dream and it will come true.
The girl smiled. It seemed that now the sadness in her eyes was not so deep.
- True? She asked hopefully.
"True," Omer promised firmly and asked: "What is your name?"
"Kumru," the girl answered.
"Kumru," Omer repeated with a smile. - Dove. Your name really suits you.
- Thanks! Dad called me that - the girl's eyes shone with pleasure and gratitude. "Do you want me to escort you to the hematology department?"
"With pleasure," Omer stood up and bent his right arm at the elbow. "Princess Kumru, show me the honor of walking with you by the arm."
The girl's pale cheeks were painted with a tender, almost transparent, blush. She put her birdlike slender hand, under Omer's elbow and pointed to the side entrance:
- This way.
Near the department of hematology was not crowded. Omer immediately saw his wife's fiery hair and headed straight for her. She was standing by the window next to a beautiful but exhausted middle-aged woman.
"The mother of Seda and Nisa," thought Omer.
Defne, noticing her husband with a sad, young angel, smiled with her radiant smile.
"Dear, what a lovely, young fairy beside you?"
"I am Kumru," the girl replied instead of Omer, and, letting go of his elbow, she extended her hand to Defne. She shook a narrow and cold hand. "And you are Defne." Seda talked a lot about you and how incredibly talented and wonderful you are. We, all three, me, Nisa and Dila ... Dila is the third girl in our ward," she explained," simply fell in love with you and Mr. Omer. "
- A chatterbox, you covered everyone with words, - the woman scolded the girl kindly and introduced herself to Omer. - I'm Meryem, mother of Seda and Nisa. Mr. Omer, thank you and Mr. Sinan for your help.
"You're welcome," Omer bowed restrainedly and asked Defne: "And where, by the way, is Sinan himself?"
"He went for coffee," Defne smiled affectionately at him, and his heart immediately felt better. Even the suffocating atmosphere of the hospital thinned and opened the floodgates with oxygen. Omer was finally able to breathe deeply.
Defne closely watched her husband. He was, as usual, calm and unperturbed, but she felt the pain that was tearing his soul. And guessed about the reason. How hard it is for him now, for her magnificent, wonderful, generous husband. She touched his palm, and he instantly squeezed her hand. Strongly, to the numbness of the fingers. But Defne did not complain. She mentally took away his pain and sympathize with all her heart.
And, like a miracle, he felt better. Memories subsided and went to the bottom of consciousness. The spasm in his throat relaxed and he was able to breathe freely.
Kumru went to the ward. But she soon returned with another girl whom she introduced as Dila. She was dark and green-eyed, with regular features and high cheekbones. But also, like Kumru - very pale and slender, with a piercingly sad look and in a too big hospital gown, on her fragile body. The scarf on her head was green.
Defne put the girls on the sofa, she settled herself between them and all three of them began to whisper about something. The fragile birds cheered up and even laughed from time to time. Omer watched them, and an idea was born in his head. Of course, at first glance, it might seem crazy to someone, but he felt that he had to bring it to life. This is necessary for everyone: people who are boiling in their petty problems and completely forget about that grief that is outside their narrow world, to mom in the sky, to himself. But most of all - to these young girls who cling to life and live in hope.
Soon, the girls left. Sinan returned with coffee in his hands. He handed the cups to Defne and Mrs. Meryem. The first answered that she did not want coffee and gave it to her husband.
Omer looked at his wife gratefully. He needed coffee. Strong, burning hot and bitter. So that it wiped out another bitterness and calmed the nerves.
Soon, along with the pale, limping on her left foot, but shining with happiness Seda, an elderly doctor came out. He encouragingly shook hands with Mrs. Meriem and said that the operation was successful. Now everyone needs to pray together for the transplanted bone marrow to take root and begin to clearly fulfill its function. Now let everyone go home. Nisa is resting, and Seda also needs rest. Like Madame Meryem herself. No one argued. Sinan volunteered to take Seda and her mother home, and Iplikci hand in hand went to their car. Even earlier, Omer let Sukru go home and now he is behind the wheel. Defne also climbed into the front seat. Before starting the engine, Omer leaned towards his wife, wrapped his hand around her nape and kissed her. There was no passion or fire in this kiss. Only gratitude and the desire to get drunk with purity and tenderness. Defne understood his impulse. She hugged tightly and silently promised:
"I'm with you! I will always be with you!"
"I know," Omer answered hoarsely.
The Mercedes passed the turn to Omer's house and drove further along such a road familiar to Defne. Not fully believing in her guess, she looked inquiringly at her husband.
"I want to see baby Iso," he explained. - And you probably missed your relatives.
"I missed them very much," Defne smiled broadly and leaned her head. - Grandma will be glad. And Esra too.
Grandma was not just happy. She shone with happiness like a brand new coin. Hugging the granddaughter and her son-in-law in turn, she said:
- Ah, my good ones! You pleased grandmother! But why did you not warn me? I would also make burek and milk baklava.
"Sorry, grandmother," Defne answered, hugging her by the shoulders and pressing her cheek to her temple. - We spontaneously decided to make a surprise.
"More often so decide," Türkan ordered strictly and blurred again in a happy smile: "As if I felt, today I rolled up whole dolma pot." And cooked the rice pudding.
- Mmm, grandmother! Do not tease. We are so hungry! Defne grimaced plaintively, and Omer, for the first time in the day, smiled freely and joyfully.
- Now, my gold ones! Set the table and have dinner. Esra!!! - the grandmother loudly called the younger granddaughter. - We have guests. Help me set the table!
Hearing the voices in the hallway, Nihan and Esra were already rushing from the second floor. With a run-up on Defne, they hung around her neck and began to squeeze and hug until she prayed and asked to turn her attention to Omer. Both immediately assumed a decently prudent appearance, nodded to the man, and asked importantly.
- Omer! How are you?
"Good," he answered. - And how are you?
- Aw! Cried Nihan and opened her arms for a hug. - Well, this his politeness! Come for a kiss!
The room was filled with cheerful, pouring laughter.
While Esra helped her grandmother set the table, Iplikci, accompanied by Nihan, went upstairs. But before looking at the baby, they went into the bathroom to wash their hands. It seemed blasphemous to touch the child with hands on which was a touch of grief and illness. Soaping their palms, they together put them under the stream of cold water and physically felt relief. Nihan was waiting for Defne and Omer in the hallway. Together they entered the bedroom of young Topal. Iso was no longer sleeping. He lay in his crib and twisted his lips suspiciously.
- Shhhh, son, don't cry! - Mummy ordered and deftly grabbed him in her arms and handed him to Defne. - Go to your aunt. She missed you. And mom will prepare for your feeding.
Defne, with a gentle smile on her face, laid the baby on her bend elbow and cooed:
"My sweet candy, how did you grow up." Just a man! Auntie's joy, a kitten...
Omer could not take his eyes off this touching picture. All the anguish and pain of today went away when he saw the small, sweet life in the arms of his Defne. What will he feel when he sees her with his ... their child? Probably his heart will burst with happiness. He held out his hands and asked:
- Give him to me.
Defne carefully placed the baby in his arms.
"Hold him like that," she taught. - And with your second hand support the head.
He followed the instructions. Gently pressed the baby to him and, closing his eyes, inhaled his smell. How nice! All the pain of the world recedes before the smell of a child.
Defne looked at this picture and her heart melted with tenderness. The tiny baby in Omer's large and strong, but such careful hands. His face when he pressed Iso to his chest ... It was the most beautiful sight in the world.
"No," said the inner voice. "The most wonderful moment will be when Omer picks up our child!"
Defne walked over to two men, big and small, and hugged both. They stood in complete silence, enjoying the warmth of each other and the little sun between them. The idyll was broken by Nihan. She burst into the room and began giving orders:
- So, finish the hugs! Return the baby to mom! He wants to eat! And you go down and pay attention to other Topal!
Omer and Defne looked at each other and laughed. Without bothering they gave the baby to mom and, holding hands, went down to the living room. A rapid activity was already going on there. In the middle, a table was set, which was covered with a festive tablecloth and the most beautiful dishes were arranged. Esra scurried from the kitchen and back, putting on the table dolma, rice pudding, pickles, fresh bread and quince jam. Everything there was in the house. Omer looked at this hospitality and scolded himself for not thinking of stopping by at the supermarket and buying gifts. Having promised himself the next time he would bring, he joined in the general turmoil.
They had dinner together and cheerfully. Grandmother Turkan's talented hands were praised in every way, and she blossomed happily. Iso, well-fed and complacent, roamed from hand to hand. But the longest was delayed by Uncle Omer. He, having forgotten about his usual restraint, gently cooed with the baby, which caused the Topal family to laugh and exchange smiles. Serdar said that Omer must have been replaced. For which he got a blow on the neck from his grandmother. Having weighed a slap on her grandson, she folded her hands on her chest with a honey smile on her lips and announced that Omer would make the world's best daddy. Which made the eldest granddaughter to blush. Defne looked down in embarrassment, and Omer, holding the baby on one arm, the other hugged his wife by the shoulders and kissed the top of her head.
They returned home late. Defne threw her handbag on the sofa and turned to her husband. He was already reaching out to hug her. With a sigh of relief, she put her hands around his neck and set her lips for a kiss. Omer was not long in coming. He put into the kiss all the emotions experienced during the day: longing, old pain of loss, compassion, hope ... and love.
"Thank you," whispered, barely letting go of her lips.
"And you," Defne replied, barely audible.
"Me for what?" - He pressed his forehead against her forehead and closed his eyes.
"Because you are you ... I love you so much.
"Omer's face twitched. The cheekbones sharpened and the eyelids clenched tightly holding moisture.
"My angel," he whispered, and added a little louder: "I have chosen a new dream ..."
"Me too ..." Defne breathed into his lips.
Omer laughed softly and Defne answered with the same quiet laugh.
"We have one more unfinished work left," he recalled smiling.
- What? - Defne's cheeks turned pale pink.
Omer quickly grabbed her in his arms and headed for the stairs.
"I have not carried you in my arms today." And we did not eat ice cream.
- Maybe skip ice cream today? - Defne hugged his neck and buried her nose in a strip of skin over the stiff collar of a blue shirt.
- Nah! - Easily climbing the stairs, protested Omer. - Ice cream is already our family tradition. We will not violate it. There are vanilla and strawberry. What do you want?
"Strawberry," Defne agreed easily and pouted her lower lip capriciously. "But only if you feed me it."
The staircase is over. Omer with his burden, happy and jubilant, circled the corridor.
"Everything my princess wishes!" He promised and pressed his lips to her laughing mouth.
***
The Ipliкci family had breakfast at the dark, oak table in the austere dining room. It was raining outside the window, but it was light and sunny on the souls of both. This inner light poured from the eyes and even the room no longer seemed so gloomy. Today they abandoned the usual omelet. Defne woke up early, and while Omer went in for sports, baked aromatic, ruddy pancakes with cottage cheese. And honey and quince jam served with them. Omer put in his mouth, piece by piece, the delicious bite and each time closed his eyes with pleasure. And he was attracted by the tea, which was highlighted in amber in Defne cup. So bright and sunny. Like the eyes of his happiness. He pushed back his coffee and took a sip from her tea. Mmmm! Tangy, sweet, refreshing. And why did he cling to this bitter, thermonuclear espresso?
- Let me pour you some tea? Defne suggested, but Omer shook his head and held her hand.
- Not. Your tea tastes better.
From Defne's smile, even the walls in the dining room brightened and took on a honey tint.
They ate the pancakes, drank tea from one cup, and chatted about all kinds of trifles. About the raindrops that twisted snakes on the glass of the window. About the baby Iso. About the play of light in the core of glass with honey. About the quince aroma. They were so comfortable in this room and these conversations that they did not want to get out of them into the big world and serious topics.
But one still needed to be discussed.
"Defne, let's go see a house in the evening?" - leaning back in his chair and watching his wife, asked Omer.
- A house? She asked, and again set the plates on the table.
Omer pulled her hand and sat her on his lap. Wrapping his hands around her waist he raised his head to her.
"House," he confirmed. - I looked at a couple of dozen on the real estate site. But this one is exactly as you described. So let's go?
"Let's go," Defne's eyes flashed with anticipation.
"True, there is a pool that you don't like, and a basketball court," Omer squinted slyly.
Defne laughed and rubbed her nose on his.
"But you love."Omer's hug became stronger. The sparkle in his eyes is brighter. The smile is wider. He gently kissed her soft, smiling lips and spoke.
- My wise wife. I am the happiest person in the world!
"Flatterer," her radiant eyes did not fit into the words at all. "Let's see what you say when I start cursing and scolding at you."
- You? - Omer rounded his eyes. - Swear and mutter? My soul, you do not know yourself well. You are the most understanding and kind person in the world.
"Well, you flatter me ..."
The last word drowned in a kiss.
They didn't want to get out of this cozy cocoon, but the clock inexorably showed that it was time to go to work. Defne went upstairs to straighten her makeup and take her purse, and Omer went into the office to take the drawings folder. It was lying on the table next to a stack of papers. Carelessly pulling the folder, Omer hooked the sheets and they fell on the floor. Cursing, he bent down to collect them and hovered looking at shoe models that Defne called "unsuccessful." Yeah! His wife is a true perfectionist. He shifted the sheets and suddenly on paper, he saw not shoes familiar to the eyes, but a soft shine of gold and fire in the heart of a large square ruby. It was a sketch of a ring. But what a sketch. Exactly what he was looking for a whole month and could not find. A ring that fits his Defne perfectly. And she drew it ... she. Allah! The talents of this golden girl are endless. Thinking for a moment, Omer smiled triumphantly and put the sketch into his folder. Having collected the remaining sheets, he laid them in a pile on the table and left the office.
- Defne !!! He called to his wife.
- I'm coming! - on the go buttoning the earring, she ran down the stairs. He easily caught her at the last, and, hugging her waist, led her to the door.
***
Defne, tapping her heels, ran to the elevator. She was late again. Omer is to blame: "Wait, I forgot to ask!", "Another kiss on the cheek!", "And one more ...". And as a result, she again appeared in the office when all the other employees had already started work. Shame!
Smiling at her thoughts and on the go looking for the phone in her purse, she bumped into a fat body. A sugary, sweet tobacco smell hit her nose and nausea immediately rolled up her throat. Defne stepped back a step and looked at the brazenly grinning man.
- Sorry, I did not look where I was going.
She felt his gaze, lustful, sticky. It went like a dirty rag over her face and body. There was a melodic ringing and the elevator opened the door.
"Please," the man pointed at the booth.
Defne backed away. She sidestepped him and muttered: "I will go up the stairs," she ran out onto the stairwell and rushed up.
Kivanc Talat looked after her and smirked nastily. The trousers became painfully cramped. He pressed his hand to his groin and hissed:
- Soon, birdie, soon! I will crush you and your proud husband!
He went into the elevator and the closing doors hide his distorted face.