Omer waited patiently for an answer. The woman hesitated as if she could not decide whether to let him in or not. But, looking sideways at curious neighbors, she nevertheless stepped aside and invited the guest to the house. The dwelling was like Defne's former, temporary apartment. The same small, modest and spotlessly clean. The only difference was the bright, artless, hanging on the walls drawings that no doubt indicated that children live here. They were not slow to show their presence. Two cute, curious faces peered out from the door of the living room. The girls were eight to nine years old. Pretty, with curly hair twins with eyes as blue as those of mom and their brother looked at the guest with interest.
"Run to your room, sparrows," their mother told them softly smiling, and closing the door tightly behind them, invited Omer to go into the living room.
Omer stopped in the middle of the room. At the hostess's offer to sit down, he shook his head and remained standing.
"I'm not for long," he explained. "Sorry, this is impolite ... you are such an important person in our life with Defne, and I don't even know what your name is."
- Mirai. My name is Mirai," the woman replied. "Glad to meet you, Madame Mirai." And I am Omer Iplikci.
"I know who you are," she said softly.
"It is logical," Omer agreed and, with a nervous movement ruffling the hair on his nape, he spoke of what had brought him here. "Madam Mirai, you have raised a wonderful son, to whom I am in unpaid debt." And I ... more precisely, Defne and I would like to take part in his fate. Firstly, in Passionis there is work for him. We need a courier. 2-3 hours after classes will not become overstrain for him, and the salary will be quite decent. Secondly - if I understand correctly, Mert is seventeen and he graduates from school in the spring? - Mirai nodded warily. - Passionis will pay him tuition at any university in Istanbul with the condition that after graduation he will come to work with us.
A timid, incredulous smile appeared on the woman's tired face.
"Are you going to do what you say?"
- Yes! - Without a shadow of a doubt, Omer answered. - Such guys as Mert are one in a million and he must have a decent, happy life. Like you, Madame Mirai. And the girls. Tell me, have you always worked as a waitress?
She closed her eyes and shook her head. She was scared, very scared to answer honestly. But this person is special. Not like everyone else. She saw it then, on the roof. He did not care about male pride and possible shame. He defended his woman. Her feelings, her life was most important to him. Perhaps he will understand her, Mirai, and not condemn her.
"Come on, you still have a seat," she nodded at the old corner sofa. And when Omer sat down, went to the window and, looking at the street, began the story: - I grew up in a wealthy family. And I was able to get an education. I studied in university, management. But I did not have to work. Immediately after graduation, I got married. Then Mert was born, and after eight years, girls. My husband had his own company and we did not need money. And then a terrible thing happened - Mirai slouched and covered her face with her hands.
"You were raped," Omer did not ask, but stated a fact. - I understood this from your words and behavior there, on the roof.
She sighed frantically and nodded her head. Slowly she removed her hands from her face and confirmed his words:
"Yes ... My husband's partner ... on vacation in Bodrum." And then he accused me of what happened ... blaming me for seducing him.
The shocked Omer looked at her and did not believe his ears.
- And your husband? - He asked when the pause dragged on.
Mirai grinned bitterly.
- My husband believed his partner. He called me a libertine ... doubted his paternity and drove us out with the children into the street. My father supported him. I was not allowed on the threshold. He said that I disgraced the family and he no longer has a daughter. I tried to fight, to prove my innocence, but only made it worse. The paparazzi press аttacked me like vultures. People on the street poked their fingers at me and called, - she fell silent and only sighed frantically.
Omer, and without her words, guessed what she was called.
- I had no choice. And there was no money either. There were Mert and one-year-old babies in my arms. We left the familiar world and moved here, in the neighborhood, where no one knew us. Getting a job by profession was unrealistic. Yes, I did not want this. I wanted to become invisible to everyone. But it was necessary to raise children, and I undertook any work. ... That's the whole story.
"A terrible story," Omer spoke, digesting what he heard. "How did you manage to survive and deal with betrayal and devastation?"
"The children helped," Mirai simply answered. "They needed love, care, and a smiling mother."
"You are an incredible person," said Omer, from all his heart.
"Now I know where Mert has this nobility and concern for loved ones." Defne and I will try to help you find a decent job and other housing. Stop hiding in your shell. It's time to regain the life you deserve.
"Thank you," the woman's eyes brightened and sparkled like seawater in the sun.
Omer got up from the couch and, bowing his head, said goodbye.
"All the best, Madame Mirai." Waiting for Mеrt tomorrow afternoon in Passionis. See you later.
With a firm step, he went to the door and was almost at the threshold when the woman called him:
- Mr. Omer!
He looked around. She wrung her fingers, and the traces of the inner struggle were reflected on her face. Quickly licking her dry lips, she spoke:
"I want to say ... Defne was very lucky with her husband." Such as you in the world are few. But ... do you understand how hard it is for her now?
" I realize," he looked into her eyes.
"Then surround her with care." Show that your love is limitless and it will not be destroyed by the creeps of an obsessed bastard. Do not insist on intimacy, but give her warmth and tenderness. She needs it now. Be a man. Let her feel protected! - She fell silent and smiled guiltily. - I'm sorry that I loaded you with advice ... I just want what happened to not break Defne and not ruin your life.
Omer did not doubt her sincerity and good intentions. And he was grateful to her. He just could not say this - his throat was seized with a spasm. He nodded silently and went outside.
Serious and thoughtful, not even looking at the local gossipers, walked past them and got into the car.
"Sukru, to the office," he ordered, and tiredly put his head back at the seat.
***
- Hello!
Defne raised a surprised face to him and smiled.
- Omer? You did not say that you were going to come. Did something happen?
He went up to her and softly kissed the temple near the corner of her eye. There was no hint of passion in the kiss. Only tenderness and warmth.
"I missed you," he looked into her eyes and rubbed his nose against her nose. - I wanted to see you so much.
Light flashed in her sad, honey-brown eyes. She shyly touched the bristle on his chin. Then she pulled her hand away. But Omer caught it. He kissed the middle and pressed it to his cheek. Sitting on the table, he closed his eyes with pleasure.
- How good ... Your touch returns me strength.
- Tired? Defne asked sympathetically, and at the very heart, like someone shed warm honey. Breathing became freer, and the void narrowed its borders a little more.
"Very," he complained. "But I will stay with you a little, breathe in your scent," he put his nose a centimeter from her neck, "and I will feel better right away." And if you say that you love me, all fatigue will be taken off like magic.
"I love you," Defne said in a deep, tender voice, barely audible.
Omer smiled. Gently hugged and leaned her red head against his chest.
"My soul," he said, stroking her hair. - Let's go now to your relatives? Let's play with baby Iso, talk with your grandmother, and you gossip with Nihan. We can go to the big Iso. You haven't seen him for a long time.
Defne pulled away and her face seemed to lock. She shook her head and answered:
- I do not want to.
- Why?
She looked at her hands and looked away.
- Never mind. Let us change the subject. Please.
Omer did not want to change the subject. He wanted to know why Defne didn't want to go to her family, why she was withdrawing into herself but did not insist. He stopped himself, recalling that his beloved suffered psychological trauma and needed time to survive this and let go of the situation. He did not start to argue. He looked into the amber, wary eyes, smiled softly and agreed:
"Good, my love." Then how do you want to spend the evening?
"Let's go to the movies," Defne asked, and shrugged embarrassedly. - We never went to the cinema.
Damn! They had never gone to the movies. They hadn't eaten ice cream in the park nor had ridden in the car in the night city. They hadn't kissed in the cabin of the Ferris wheel when it rose to the highest point and hovered above the city. How much they hadn't done that is part of the life of ordinary lovers. Omer was ashamed. He averted his eyes.
- Good. Which movie do you want to watch? - asked and looked down at the table. His palm lay on top of the drawings. He took them in his hands and the first glance cast at the sketch made his heart beating fast.
"Something light and life-affirming," Defne answered and froze, watching Omer's face.
He watched the drawings. Sketches of jewelry that she painted, trying to erase from her head the memories of a nauseous smell, lustful gleam of the bluish eyes and dirty, clammy hands that left invisible to others but obvious traces on her body. Defne could not wash them off, no matter how she tried. But when she drew, these memories left, and again she felt normal.
"Defne," breathed Omer. - It's awesome! You, of course, are a great designer of shoes, but this ... You are brilliant!
"You flatter me," she was embarrassed. "You say what I want to hear."
- Not at all! I'm telling the truth. If you do not believe me - let's show the sketches to a good jeweler.
- What if he says that they are stupid, not interesting and amateurish?
"Let him try!" - mentally threatened Omer, but said aloud:
- Amateur? Honey, are you of such a bad opinion about my taste?
Defne hesitated. But Omer spoke so confidently that it was simply impossible to not believe him.
"Well, if you think so," she said, and he blossomed in a smile.
- Well! I have in mind one jewelry master. We studied together in Italy. I'll call and make an appointment. And now - we are going to the cinema. On a romantic comedy. "He winked and smiled conspiratorially. "But first, we'll stop by for dinner." In a Chinese restaurant.
He jumped off the table and pulled Defne's hand away from the office.
- Chinese? She said doubtfully. On the move, she pulled her purse off the hanger and threw it on her shoulder and hurried after her husband. - Are you sure? Maybe something more traditional?
- No no! - He walked with wide steps along the corridor. Defne barely had time to run after him and comprehend his quick speech. - Today we send to hell with tradition! We will have for dinner a Peking duck, will watch a French film, drive the car around the city at night and arrange a date on the roof of a skyscraper.
Defne stopped and Omer stopped after her.
- On the roof? - she turned pale.
He carefully took her face in the palm of his hand. Looking into her eyes and promising to become a glass dome above her and a cocoon of soft cotton, he confirmed:
- On the roof, my love. We will replace scary memories with happy ones.
Omer kept his promise.
The Peking duck turned out to be very tasty. For the first time in several days, Defne ate with appetite and enjoyed every bite. And Omer enjoyed the fact that the void in the eyes of his beloved girl dispersed and gave way to her usual liveliness. She smiles again and did not cringe like a frightened kitten when he, lightly, as if by chance, touched her hand or hair.
In the cinema, when the light went out in the hall, Omer hugged his wife and she confidentially laid her head on his shoulder. They watched at the screen, where the cheerful and witty Frenchmen so funny and touching understood the intricacies of their relationship and had fun with all their heart. Defne really forgot. About shame. About fear. About self-loathing. She just sat with her husband in the cinema and felt loved and protected.
But when the film ended, and they went out into the lobby, Defne caught the interested look of an unfamiliar man and all the emotions that had disappeared returned with renewed vigor and got to her.
Omer felt her stiffen and her palm become ice cold in his hand. Looking at Defne, who was shrinking into a prickly ball, he looked around and immediately noticed a man drooling from the beauty of his wife. Omer's eyes turned into sharp pieces of ice, and meeting with this look, the man staggered back and hurried to disappear. Defne sighed barely audibly.
Shaking her cold hand soothingly and stroking her thin wrist with his thumb, Omer led her to the car.
They traveled in silence. Defne was delving into herself, but Omer did not interfere. He looked at the road and only occasionally squinted at his wife. Near the Zorlu shopping center, of which the ill-fated Raffles Istanbul was a part, he stopped and called someone. A couple of minutes later a guy ran out in the uniform of the seller. In his hands, he held a basket covered with a plaid, which he put in the trunk.
- What is there? - Defne finally woke up from her dreary thoughts.
"You will see soon," Omer smiled and stroked the velvet skin of her cheek with his thumb. - A couple of blocks and we are there.
"Roof," Defne said quietly.
"The roof," he said calmly and started the car.
Sapphire, the highest skyscraper in Istanbul, met them with the radiance of thousands of lights and the friendly open doors of a high-speed elevator. At Defne, everything was chilling inside, and she trembled, but Omer only gripped her hand more firmly and confidently led hеr. Elevator. Corridor. Closed observation deck. Omer passed it and led Defne up the stairs. There, where the wind played in clouds and the whole of Istanbul was visible, in full view.
They went to the very middle. Exactly where in the middle of a large white circle the letter H stood, Omer, stopped. Defne looked around. Everything was as it was a few days ago on another roof ... and not the same. There was a wind, but there was no sense of horror. The height did not frighten and the night did not seem menacingly gloomy. On the contrary, it sparkled with millions of lights and fascinated with its velvet depth.
"Now shout," Omer ordered. "Pour out everything that torments you and keeps you from living."
And she screamed. Desperately, wildly. A voice sprang up in the throat and sank lower. Tearing the rope around the chest, falling into the stomach and like a wind blew away the bad emotions and hopeless darkness. She became a scream and broke up into atoms that scattered dust, and when they gathered together - the void in her chest disappeared and the former Defne returned to life. She took a deep breath of clean, cold air and laughed. Freely and easy. And then she turned to Omer and said:
- Thanks!
He smiled back warmly. Then he took a phone from his pocket and, turning on the player. An exciting waltz melody swam through the air.
- And now we will dance.
He took Defne's hand and laid it on his shoulder. Her second hand drowned in his palm. Holding her waist lightly, he took a step. Defne, obedient to his will, caught the slightest movement and echoed to him. They moved smoothly as one.
On the roof of a huge skyscraper ... almost in the sky ... without feeling the earth beneath, the couple danced. A tall, strong man carefully held in his arms a lovely, fragile girl. The huge city sparkled at their feet, and stars revolved over their heads in a waltz rhythm. The girl raised her face to them and mentally thanked:
"Thanks! For all..."
When the last, expressive notes sounded violently crescendo, Omer took Defne in his arms and spun her in the air.
"Some traditions are unchanged," he winked. She grabbed his neck and, throwing her head back, laughed. Then they sat on a blanket spread right on the letter H and ate melted ice cream. Defne was not at all surprised when Omer got it from the basket. Because important traditions cannot be broken. And Omer never forgets about the important!
When the box was empty, Omer set it aside and turned Defne to face him. He straightened her hair and spoke:
- If you remember, then at the reception, before I go down, I promised you a surprise.
Defne nodded and listened to herself. The mention of the ill-fated evening did not make the heart to ache painfully. It beat freely, evenly, and trembled with anticipation, and not from terrible memories. Omer pulled out of a basket a semicircular, convex box covered in red velvet.
"You didn't figure out what jewelry to wear with the dress ... My tongue was scratching me to tell you what is waiting for you in the hotel safe." But I really wanted to surprise you ... they should have brought it at my signal, but ... - he frowned, and then shook his head as if he had sent off the bad thoughts. Defne was looking in his eyes and, holding her breath, waited for a miracle.
"You were proclaimed the queen among designers ...," he snapped the lock and the red velvet opened slightly. "Every queen should have a tiara ..." the lid opened and Defne gasped in admiration. - The real one. This one is yours.
On a black satin lay a diadem of stunning beauty - a delicate lace woven from white gold and pure, like spring water, blue tourmaline. Omer pulled it out and put it on Defne head. The noble stones absorbed the spread moonlight and mysteriously sparkled, shading the hair, which now seemed almost dark.
"You are beautiful," said Omer, admiringly looking at his wife, and a tender blush lit up on her cheeks. Her huge eyes seemed bottomless and shone with light. "The same as these tourmalines ... Nothing can stain their purity and ruin their uniqueness." Whatever happens - fires, floods, earthquakes, and they remain transparent and flawless. So are you. Dirty people may try to break you, defile you, but all this is no use. In any situation, you will remain by itself — pure water. "He gently touched her lips. "A clear ray of light." Fingers tangled in splendid hair. - My Defne...
"I get it." She smiled with trembling lips. Tears rolled down her cheeks, but Defne did not notice them. She looked into Omer's eyes, and no force in the world could make her look away. - I get it. Allah loves me. Very much... "- Defne impulsively hugged his neck and pressed herself against his broad chest. "I can survive anything if you are beside me!" Never leave me. Ok?
"Never," Omer promised and hid her with hands from the wind.
At night, in bed, there was again a chaste kiss on the forehead. But Defne fell asleep in the warm, protective cocoon of Omer's hands.
Until Friday, Omer, step by step, returned Defne to her former self. He was persistent and unshakable. When in the company of friends, she closed herself in and was ashamed to raise her eyes, he stubbornly pulled her into the conversation until Defne realized that no one around was condemning her and did not consider her guilty of what had happened.
When she tried to pull on formless, dull, almost puritanical clothes, he stood on the threshold of the dressing room, folded his hands on his chest and firmly declared - Defne would not leave the room until she removed this outrage from herself. And then he chose her clothes and waited outside the door while she changed clothes.
Step by step, he again charmed her to his touches and kisses. Suppressing passion, at full power included tenderness and just bathed her in it. And Defne believed that her body was clean again. She even agreed to go to visit her family. She hugged her grandmother and Esra, took the baby Iso in her arms. Breathed in his baby scent and felt that contempt and anger receded. She is Defne again, not a broken doll.
But with the big Iso refused to meet. She was afraid. He knew and felt her like no other, and could recognize the misfortune without words. And she didn't want that. Let him remain in ignorance. It will be better for everyone. Omer frowned but did not argue.
Also, Defne started to draw, a lot. She was finishing one sketch and starting the next. Earrings, rings, pendants, bracelets. Her fantasy knew no bounds. But her knowledge was not enough. In the evenings, she has buried herself in the laptop and studied precious and semiprecious stones and gems. Omer sat next to her and tеelling everything that he knew. Defne, like a sponge, absorbed information, and it, gaining a foothold in the brain, began to spin the wheels of imagination. Omer mentally crossed his fingers and prayed that Defne's interest grew into a necessity. As it once was with him. The routine work of tailoring shoes grew into a desire to create them from sketch on paper to a shoe on a female leg and that helped the heartbroken, locked-up boy become an ingenious designer ... though, he is still closed and unsociable. The lock was opened by Defne. She opened it wide and taught him to love life and enjoy every day and every minute.
And now she, his sunlight and bold wind, itself faced cruelty and hid in a shell.
He could not allow this.
He knocked on this shell, smashed it and pulled Defne by the hand into the big world. Because she, like no other, deserved a full life. Laughter and hugs. Hot kisses. Fiery nights...
***
On Friday at exactly noon, Omer, as always confident and calm, appeared in Defne's office and ordered from the threshold:
- Collect the sketches of jewelry, grab your handbag and let's go!
- Where to? - surprised Defne opened her eyes wide, but she obeyed the order. She got up from the table and began hastily collecting sketches in the tablet folder.
"You will see," Omer winked mysteriously. - Collect everything. You won't come back here until Monday.
"N-n-but I can't do that," Defne stammered from surprise "I need to ask permission of Tranba."
"Not necessary," Omer grabbed the tablet with the drawings from her and, taking her arm, directed her toward the door. "I already informed him that I am taking you away to the end of the working day."
- And he was not indignant? - tilting her head and looking her husband face mockingly asked Dеfne.
- What's the point? - wondered Omer. - You might think I'm worried about his outrage!
- I care! He is still my immediate superior. And I respect subordination.
Defne spoke her tirade, and Omer frowned furiously. Boss, subordination. Such notions are not at all for his Defne. She should be a freelance artist, not bound by any conventions.
"It's all nonsense," he grunted and shoved Defne into the elevator. Pushing the lower floor button, he leaned his shoulder against the wall.
"Nothing is nonsense," Defne said. "Would you like it if Zayneb ..."
She did not finish. Omer bent down and closed her mouth with a kiss. As before, powerfully and passionately burst deep in with his tongue and made her forget about everything in the world. She jerked her hands away in surprise, then wrapped her arms around his neck and bravely answered the kiss. It was as if a bomb had exploded in Omer's brain. He was overwhelmed by the euphoria. Yes! Defne is ready to re-open her passion and desire! The scumbag couldn't break her. His brave girl is stronger and higher than all the filth and vileness! Throwing the tablet on the floor, he grabbed her above the knees and circled the narrow cabin.
- Crazy! She laughed. - The elevator will stop now. If someone sees us?
"Let them see and envy," Omer replied curtly, but set her feet on the ground. - My wife is the most beautiful and charming woman in the world.
"I'm afraid you're exaggerating," Defne objected just for decency, but was melting away from love and gratitude. What happiness is it - to enjoy kisses and not shake every time with horror and bad memories.
"Not at all," he said sincerely and kissed the tip of her small nose. At the same moment, the elevator announced the arrival on the right floor. Omer grabbed the tablet from the floor and intertwined his fingers with Defne's fingers.
A beautiful, confident man and woman stepped out of the elevator, holding hands. Their faces were calm and serious, but their eyes sparkled too brightly. Passers-by, noticing this brilliance and hands locked in a knot, silently sighed and envied. Turned around and looked after them. And the couple, not noticing anyone and anything, went up to the car and disappeared inside the passenger compartment. There, in the back seat, was another folder.
- What is it? Asked Defne.
"The drawings you painted at home." I took them too. We will bomb Ahtem with heavy artillery," Omer joked and crossed his fingers mentally.
- To bomb? - surprised Defne. - Sometimes I do not understand you at all.
"You will understand, my soul," he kissed her temple. - Soon you will understand everything. Now curl up your curiosity. We are going to lunch, and then to the best Istanbul jeweler. Defne smiled and did as her husband ordered. She let go of all fears.
Omer knows what he is doing!
The jeweler was waiting for them. As soon as Iplikci got out of the car, the workshop door opened, and he appeared on the threshold. Smiling broadly, he shook Omer's hand, introduced himself to Defne, and called the guests inside. He sat them in old armchairs with curved backs and offered tea, but the guests, justifying themselves by having just had lunch, refused.
Omer pulled out sketches from the folders and laid them on the table. While Ahtem studied the drawings, Defne sat like on needles and did not take her gaze from him. Omer even got a little jealous. But then he stopped himself. Defne is waiting for a professional appraisal of her work and there is nothing more in her gaze.
The jeweler laid out the sketches on the surface of the table and looked at Defne. She sat, biting her lower lip, and the amber eyes on her pale face seemed huge. He smiled encouragingly.
- What can I say? Madame Defne, you are incredibly talented. With the current abundance of jewelry, it's hard to surprise and interest customers. But you will surely succeed.
"I have a big knowledge gap in this area," Defne honestly admitted. "I had never encountered jewelry before." But I'm learning fast!
"That's for sure," Omer supported his wife. - I don't know another person who would grab and learn everything on the fly so lightning fast.
He straightened her hair and kissed her eyes. Defne answered with a sweet smile. Ahtem grinned under his mustache and wedged into the conversation:
- I can give a lesson. If you wish.
"I wish," Defne agreed immediately.
The jeweler set aside the sketches opened the safe and took out a stack of flat boxes. Having placed them on the table, he opened each and began to acquaint Defne with the contents. Taking out another stone from the box, he talked about its properties and jewelry value, characterized color and transparency, acquainted with the types of cuts. Defne listened with bated breath. She was not just interested, the theme of jewelry caught her for real. She felt - this is her! If the shoes were always a challenge to Omer, then here she could let herself go and do what her soul wanted.
Omer sat in silence and did not take his eyes off his wife. Sometimes his lips quivered with a sly smile, but he immediately hid it behind equanimity and patiently waited for the lesson to finish. But, when a couple of hours later there was not even a hint of ending the conversation, intervened. He got up and, taking Defne's handbag from the back of the chair, handed it to his wife and firmly declared:
"Honey, we have to go," he then turned to his friend and offered his hand. - Sorry, brother, we hurry. But we will come next week and you will continue the lesson.
"I will be glad," Ahtem answered and bowed to the girl. - Madame Defne, it was very nice to find a soul mate in you and get acquainted with your talent. I look forward to seeing you again.
"Well, so impatiently," Omer muttered, and everyone laughed.
"Don't be jealous," Ahtem slapped him on the shoulder. "Mrs. Defne and I share a passion for jewelry." Everything else belongs to you and only you.
- To my great relief and joy. Amen! - Omer raised his hands to the sky, and the workshop was again filled with laughter. When everyone calmed down, he turned to Defne:
- Beloved, wait for me in the car. I'll be out in a couple of minutes.
Defne narrowed her eyes suspiciously but did not pester with questions. She said goodbye to Ahtem and went outside.
The warm autumn day was approaching to evening. The sun lost its burning summer sultry and shone softly and gently. Dark blue clouds were gathering in the distance, and Defne thought it would rain by night. This thought did not cause her sadness. After all, if you light a fire in a fireplace and take refuge in the arms of Omer, then the rain outside the window will become only a knock of drops. It will not destroy warmth and comfort.
Smiling at her thoughts, Defne stepped on the sidewalk and nearly fell from a tangible push. A young man hurrying about his business flew into her. Defne cried out and the guy held her by the shoulders.
"I'm sorry," he said, and Defne cringed in disgust and pushed him away from her. He raised his hands and began to make excuses: - Sorry, I just wanted to keep you from falling.
"Please go away," she asked muffled, and the guy apologized again and left.
But Defne stood in the middle of the street and gritted her teeth, holding a hysterical scream. The colors faded and the world around again turned into black and white. Allah! Will it always be like this now? The accidental touch of a stranger and the hard-won balance shatters into pieces ...
- Defne ... - called behind her the alarmed voice of Omer. - What happened?
She turned around and headlong rushed to him. He opened his hands and Defne clutched the lapels of his jacket and pressed her face to his chest.
"A passer-by accidentally ran into her," explained Sukru, who approached.
"I see ...," Omer raised Defne's frightened face to himself and, as to a child, reassured: "Hush, darling! Еverything is fine! I'm with you and I won't let anyone offend you.
Defne nodded and let him go. Fear receded, and shame came in its place. What did passers-by think about her, Sukru and Omer himself? Considered her an unbalanced hysteric? She took a step back and, pulling the blue cardigan, apologized embarrassedly:
- I apologize. I don't know what came over me ...
But Omer knew. He saw Defne's desperate fear, and his heart was bleeding. How long does it take for that terrible evening to be erased from her memory forever? And what should he do for this? Closing his eyes for a moment and gritting his teeth, he hugged Defne's shoulders and led her to the car.
"Honey," helping her to get inside, he spoke in the most mundane tone. "I forgot to tell you." Your blue-eyed knight Merth now works as a courier in Passionis. Smart boy. Derya is very pleased with him.
- True?
- Absolutely!
- I am very pleased.
A usual dialogue. As if nothing had happened.
"And what terrible happened? Asked her inner voice. - A man rushed at you in a hurry. He kept you from falling. He apologized. Quite an ordinary situation. The fact that one man is a scumbag does not mean that everyone else is the same!"
Daphne agreed with her sober mind. But feelings lived their lives. And how to reassure them she had no idea.
A strong arm wrapped around her shoulders. She shuddered and raised her face to Omer.
"Forget it," he asked. - What was - is already past. We have a wonderful evening ahead and a wonderful life. Let's just rejoice in the little things.
"Come on," Defne agreed and smiled. "And what are our plans for the evening?"
"To be happy," Omer answered. - And we go to the mountains. For the whole weekend. Just you and me!
Defne's eyes were flooded with joyful foreboding. She asked again:
- Into the mountains? To your mom's house? - Omer nodded. - I am so glad! It's probably very beautiful there now.
- Very. And when you appear there - the mountains will sing with happiness.
The mountains sang. With silent rain. It began when the car left behind the city and began to climb up the mountain serpentine. The drops hit the window and flowed down like thin snakes. Outside the windows, it got dark and the only source of light was the car headlights. Their light illuminated the gray asphalt and it seemed that there would be no end to the road. But beyond the next bend, a ray of light pulled out the outlines of the house from the darkness. Omer slowed down and the Mercedes gently rolled to the high porch. Defne was the first to get out of the car and breathe deeply into the moist, heady clean air.
"Run faster into the house," Omer ordered, pulling a suitcase from the trunk. - You will get wet and freeze.
"If I freeze, then you will warm me," Defne said gaily, but she went to the house.
"Do you doubt?" - Omer winked and pointed to a clay pot with blooming geraniums. - The key is behind the flower pot. Please open the door.
Defne fumbled with her hand and found the key. Having opened the door she found the switch and lit electricity. Soft, yellowish light flooded the hall, living room and kitchen. Omer carried the suitcase upstairs and went down to his wife. She examined the house. Cleanly washed wooden floors, clean curtains, firewood stacked near the fireplace. They waited for their arrival and prepared. Smiling at this thought, she turned to her husband. He came down the stairs and Defne fondly noted how this white, large-knit sweater fits on him. How his beautiful lips bend in a smile. How eyes shine. She smiled and held out her hands to him.
They stood embracing and listening to each other's breath. Defne felt her fears and inner cold go away.
- Do you want to eat? Omer asked in a hoarse voice.
"I want to," she replied. - What do we have?
- Now let's see.
Omer opened his arms and pulled her into the kitchen by the hand.
The fridge was packed with food. The pickled meat smelled of spices, shiny, red-sided tomatoes, green salad. There was milk, eggs, sun-dried olives, and tiny pickled cucumbers. On the lower shelf were boxes of chocolate and milk baklava.
"Allah," Daphne gasped in surprise. - Did we arrive for a couple of days or a month?
- I took into account the previous mistakes, - laughed Omer and began to get products from the refrigerator.
In four hands, they quickly made dinner and set it on the table. They sat down together on the old chairs and threw themselves on food. Omer put delicious pieces on Defne's plate and forced her to eat everything to the crumb. She rounded up her eyes in mock horror and complained that at such a rate she would soon turn into a medium-sized hippo and the tradition of wearing her on his hands would be covered with a cobweb. Omer just smiled and put another grape and a piece of cheese to her lips.
Then he lit the fireplace, and when the merry flames danced in the hearth, he opened a bottle of wine and turned on the music.
They drank sweet, subtle-smelling wine and danced. Defne had her head spinning, and she smiled with a happy smile and told Omer. He immediately seated her on the sofa and, kissing her flushed cheek, asked:
- Wait for me. I'll be right back.
He went upstairs, and Defne put her head back against the sofa and closed her eyes. Next to Omer, she forgot everything, and again she felt like before, carefree and happy. But once he left her for a moment, then the memories came back, and with them the uncertainty and the tingling pain in her chest. Will she ever be able to get rid of it?
Confident steps were heard very close by and Defne opened her eyes. Omer stood in front of her and smiled mysteriously. He held out his hand and called:
- Let's go to...
- Where to? She asked, and she held out her hand confidently.
Omer clasped her hand and led Defne behind him. They stopped on a small, glazed terrace. The same one they once watched the stars.
"Defne," he turned her to face him. "You did not ask me why, then, on the island, I only gave you one ring."
"I didn't ask," repeated Defne, echoing. "I thought you know what you are doing." And I trust and accept any decision you make.
His generous girl! His chest was flooded with tenderness. How much he loves her! Until breathing stops.
- My soul! - Omer squeezed her fingers and immediately, frightened that he hurt her, brought it to his lips and kissed. "I was wrong ... then, a year ago ... when I put my mother's ring on your finger." I don't know how to correctly explain it to you ...," he fell silent, choosing the right words, and then he spoke quickly and hotly. "It has always been hers ... let remain hers." And here it is," he opened the clenched fist of his other hand. On it lay a small velvet box. He opened it and an oval ruby, catching the light, which plays in the depths of the edges with red lights. - Your.
He exhaled the last word and looked excitedly into hеr beloved face. Defne stood with her hand on her mouth, and tears glistened in her huge eyes.
"Beloved," he scared. - Don't you like it?
She shook her head and held out her hand.
- Silly! I so dreamed of it. For something like that...
Tears rolled down her cheeks and her eyes shone with happiness. Omer looked into these eyes and put on the ring. It slid easily and tightly circled her finger. As if it was always on it. Defne looked deep into the ruby and reached for Omer. Hugging his shoulders, she raised her face to him and asked:
- Kiss Me...
Omer's lips trembled as he covered her mouth salty from tears. He kissed Defne tremulously and sweetly. Holding back his passion, he gave her his tenderness and promised endless love. And she was melting. These hands and lips were close and welcome. Only them she wanted to feel, only to them to submit to...
"Omer ...," she whispered, and he heard agreement in the sound of his name. She allowed... touch ... kiss ... love ...He grabbed her in his arms and carried her upstairs. In the back of the house. There, where with a snow-white purity the bed invited.
He was in no hurry. He undressed her, slowly and for a long time kissing every bare skin on her body. He did not take but gave. He worshipped. Defne was dying in his arms and reborn again free and pure. His touches were washing away the others - hateful, dirty. He filled the void, and darkness exploded with light. Bright and lively. Warmth rushed to her heart and Defne screamed from blinding happiness and keen pleasure. Her cry was picked up by Omer.
- I love you! His voice echoed.
The house, which waited so long and patiently for the return to its walls of love and joy, filled with living light ...
Omer woke up with a feeling of intoxicating joy. Without opening his eyes, he reached out to hug Defne, but his hands met only an empty place. He sat down in bed. The heart contracted with fear.
Defne, wrapped in a sheet and holding it over her chest, stood by the window. So fragile and beautiful.
"Beloved," he called her alarmed.
She looked around.
Adorable, serene Defne.
His life ...
His soul ...
- Good morning, my love! Her smile shone with the sun. - I'm not cold anymore.