The woman had smooth, black hair, gathered at the back of her head in a neat bun, delicate facial features, and huge, sad, dark brown eyes under the graceful arches of eyebrows. She smiled sincerely and warmly. In this smile, there was not even a hint of flirtation or female interest in a handsome man. Just the joy of seeing a friend. Defne grasped this with a sixth sense and, instantly calmed down, watched with interest the meeting of her husband with an old acquaintance. Judging by the clothes, expensive, impeccably elegant, but not flashy, full of dignity gestures, she belonged to those people whose aristocracy is inherent in genes and is passed down from generation to generation.
"Hello," she greeted Omer. - Very glad to see you.
"I'm glad too," he shook her hand and let go. Laura looked at Defne and Omer proudly introduced her: "My wife, Defne," he squeezed a sharp elbow. "Beloved, meet Countess Laura Cesare."
"Just Laura," she smiled warmly and extended Defne a small hand.
Defne, the first time she met a real countess, automatically answered the handshake and smiled bewildered and a little embarrassed.
- Nice to meet you.
"I'm also very happy," Laura replied. "I thought that when Omer truly falls in love, a sun-girl will be his chosen one." And I was not mistaken.
Defne blushed. Omer, seeing her embarrassment, hugged his wife by the shoulders and, looking into her face, supported the old acquaintance:
- You're right. I am incredibly lucky. I fell in love with an angel.
The phone vibrated in his pocket. Having pulled it out and looking at the screen, Omer frowned and turned to the Italian:
- Laura, I'm sorry! I have an important meeting in ten minutes. Need to run. Let's meet later and talk.
"Great idea," she agreed. - Come with Defne to my house in the evening. I'll make dinner.
Omer looked inquiringly at his wife. She nodded in agreement, and he immediately confirmed her nod with the words:
- Good. We are pleased to accept your invitation. From my student days, I remember that your dishes are something!
With a smile, Laura thanked for the compliment and named the address. It was one of the residential areas of Milan. A good area, but not at all where high society lives. Omer raised his eyebrows in surprise.
"You don't live in your husband's house?"
She shook her head and answered:
"We got divorced ... it's a long story ... we'll talk about everything in the evening." No need to be late for a meeting. Milanese does not like this.
"I remember," Omer flashed a smile, "it's true, my meeting is with a Frenchman, but that does not give me the right to be non-punctual. Until the evening! Beloved," he turned to Defne. - I ran.
Defne straightened his tie with her usual gesture and nodded:
- Come on go! I keep my fingers crossed!
Omer kissed her fingers clenched in a fist and with a quick step went inside the gallery. Both girls looked after him, and then looked at each other.
"I've never seen Omer so happy before," Laura said. - And I am very happy about that. Marrying you, Defne is the best thing that could happen to him.
Defne turned her eyes and jokingly raised her eyebrows.
"Allah, how glad I am to hear that." You are the first Italian woman familiar to Omer who rejoices in his marriage.
Laura picked up her tone.
- I guess what you are talking about. And I would give a year of my life to see the faces of our former classmates when Omer told them that he was married.
- Oh yeah! - Defne agreed and she suddenly felt very funny. She saw yesterday's situation with different eyes. "As if they have put a lemon in their mouth." Sour-sour.
Both girls laughed and felt as if they had known each other all their lives.
- And you probably have to go too? Laura asked. "It was nice meeting you, Defne." I look forward to your visit in the evening.
"Mutually, Mrs. Laura."
"Only without a Mrs!" Please, let's leave these stupid formalities.
"With pleasure," Defne agreed.
She walked the long gallery past expensive boutiques, whose names elegantly shone with gold on a black background of signs and did not notice exclusive items displayed in the windows. She was not interested in clothes, expensive bags, or furs. All this was so petty and stupid before that happiness that shone in her soul. She has the most important and dearest thing in the world - Omer's love. And she doesn't care about objects. The main thing is that love always be.
Omer was able to free himself by noon. Saying goodbye to the French, who quickly turned from potential customers to real ones, he walked into the exhibition hall with an easy walk of a confident person to pick up Defne for lunch. Seeing her husband, she shone with joy. And not only because she missed his beautiful face. Defne was hungry. She did not even remember when in her life she was so hungry. Unless in childhood, in those long summer days, in which the sun shone longer, and she and her friends disappeared on the street from morning to night. And when she returned home, her stomach stuck to her back. But now why? After all, she had a wonderful breakfast and only a few hours passed. Why, then, does the stomach is rumbling from hunger?
Omer had hardly approached her when she grabbed his hand and pulled him to the exit.
"Faster," she sang on the go. "Or I'll start gnawing stones."
- My beloved is so hungry? - adjusting to her steps, he asked.
"Yeah," Defne answered, and moaned plaintively: "I've never been so hungry in my life." So while we go think about what we will order. You know better the local cuisine.
"Do you at least tell me in which direction to think." What would you like?
- All! Soup, fries, dessert ... and juice - she raised her face to him, on which huge caramel eyes burned with lively impatience. - Oh, how I want orange juice!
"But why didn't you ask Derya to buy and bring it to you?" - Walking widely on the mosaic tiles of the floor, and not noticing anyone but his Defne, Omer asked.
- We did not have a free minute. Koray made a photo report from the fair today and we had to work as models for three hours in a row...
Models of Koray? Yeah, his girl had a difficult morning. Omer gently stroked the delicate skin of her thin wrist with his thumb, and Defne answered him with a grateful smile. How sensitive he is. One-touch - and she is full of strength and energy.
They almost reached the intersection of galleries covered with a glass dome, when the laughter and noise of the crowd made them stop. A mosaic of a bull was laid out on the floor, right in the center. Tourists gathered around, where, as a big spinning top was spinning ... Koray. While swinging the camera as a counterbalance, he managed to shout out a mixture of Turkish-Italian words, which made the phrases sound like a long recitative.
- What is it whit him? - Defne stopped in amazement. She suspected that the eccentric photographer had completely gone crazy. She even forgot about hunger.
"Koray makes a wish," Omer grinned.
- A wish?
"Well, yes," Omer looked into her upturned face. - There is such a belief - if you circle here on the very spot and make a wish, it will certainly come true.
- And how? Did you check? Coming true? - Defne's eyes flashed with lively interest.
"Beloved, do I look like a person who believes in prejudice?"
Omer mocked an eyebrow. Defne sighed in disappointment and again pulled him toward the exit. But he stopped her. He pulled her to him and bent to her ear.
"I lied," whispered. - Once, when I was going to return to Istanbul, I came here. I asked it to help me get rid of the cold in my heart and see the world again full of light and colors.
- And? - Defne held her breath.
"And you appeared in my life."
Defne raised her face to him. Her eyes shone like amber, and a trembling smile touched her lips timidly. Omer leaned toward her and kissed.
Passers-by, pretending not to notice the kissing couple, flowed around them from all sides and hurried about their business. Even Koray carried away by rubbing a hole in the mosaic tile, did not pay attention to Omush with the skinny girl. He made one hundred and twentieth in a row wish.
And through the glass ceiling poured a soft autumn light. It sparkled and wrapped a golden veil over the kissing lovers.
Tomato soup, a rabbit stew, and tiramisu, which Omer ordered in a small family restaurant, were so delicious that Defne, sending another portion to her mouth, closed her eyes with pleasure and barely audible moaned. Omer's excitement flowed from these sweet sounds over his body in a hot wave. He looked at her lips and forgot that he also wanted to eat. Another kind of hunger took possession of his whole being, and he mentally cursed the populous restaurant, the fair, and the customers who were waiting for him to meet. Having ordered a specific part of his body to lie still, he nevertheless buried his eyes on the plate and hastily ate his lunch.
Defne, contented and delightfully well-fed, leaning against the back of a chair, sipped orange-red, bitter juice from Sicilian oranges. Strange, she used to love sweet drinks like syrup, but now she's fond of sour with a slight bitterness. How can tastes change!
Omer, laying aside his napkin, extended his hand to Defne, palm up. She put hers in his and smiled.
- Stones can breathe easily now? - caressing her with a look, he asked.
"Yeah, they can," Defne smiled placidly.
- That's great. I have another meeting now. With the Spaniards. Then we'll go up to our room, change clothes ("maybe not only that," he added mentally) and go for dinner to Laura Cesare.
"Is she a real Countess?" - Defne respectfully rounds her eyes.
"A real one," Omer stroked the middle of her palm with his thumb.
"A born daughter of Count Rastrelli, she later married Count Luigi Cesare."
"She said she got divorced," Defne reminded him.
"Yes ... although I'm not surprised." This marriage was doomed from the very beginning.
- Why?
- This is a long story. Now there is no time, but later I will tell you, - Omer promised.
"I hold for your word," she smiled and got up from the table.
Omer followed in her wake. Leaving money near the plate, he took Defne's hand and led to the exit.
On the way to the gallery, in a small shop, he bought a bottle of orange juice and put it in Defne's purse.
"So you don't suffer," explained when she looked up at him in surprise. - Maybe we'll also buy cookies?
"And a box of chocolates," Defne mocked. "Omer, don't be silly." I'm unlikely to have time to snack on cookies.
"I listen and obey," Omer saluted on the move with two fingers and hurried to the cafe, where great things were done and deals for millions were made on a cup of excellent lungo.
***
- Have you seen Iz?
The voice sounded behind her back so unexpectedly that Defne jumped in place and angrily indignant:
- Holy heaven! Why you scared me!
"I'm sorry," Trаnba raised both hands. - I did not want to. So did you see Iz or not?
"She was with Sinan at a meeting with the Croats." And then she rushed off to some boutique where she noticed a handbag of incredible beauty.
Denise frowned. Damn. They are the fourth day in Milan and besides work, they see nothing more. In the evenings, seeing Iz out to her room, he brazenly asked for a visit, but each time she replied that she was very tired, and the next day would not be easier. So, еveryone should go to bed. And disappeared behind the door. And he, evil and unsatisfied, had to go to his room and take a cold shower.
And yes, this Iplikci, who every morning appeared happy, like a cat overeating sour cream. And Sinan shining a silly-in-love smile. Ugh!Would strangle both men.
And what kind of boutique did the elusive beauty go to? There are hundreds of them in the Gallery.
"She mentioned Gucci," prompted Defne carefully watching his face.
"Thank you," he breathed and strode swiftly in search of the desired boutique.
Defne looked at him and smiled knowingly. The mocking, selfish loner Deniz Tranba fell in love. And he no longer wants neither loneliness nor comfort. He wants Iz and her love.
He saw her from afar. She stood at the window of a jewelry boutique and examined something intently. He quietly stepped closer and stopped. She examined wedding rings. She looked at the window for a few minutes, and then touched it with a finger. And lightly stroked the glass. A mysterious light emitted a square emerald beneath it. She removed her hand and Deniz distinctly heard her sigh. He managed to retreat behind the column and go unnoticed. The girl turned and quickly left the boutique. She walked resolutely as if running away. But only from whom? Maybe from her desires and hopes?
Deniz stepped out from behind the pillar and went to the window display. Looking at the ring, he motioned for the seller and gave him a jerky order.
***
Defne was frankly bored. The fair came to an end and the rush subsided. Rare visitors still walked around the hall, but they were more simply staring than showing commercial interest. Koray, having taken the shots necessary for advertising, left to "look for inspiration" on the city streets and the girls sighed with relief. He, of course, is the genius of photography, but he tired out everybody with his quibbles and bossy orders. Let him command more pigeons on Cathedral Square. And if suddenly a miracle happens, and they will obediently freeze in the frame.
Omer appeared at three o'clock. He smiled broadly and, grabbing Defne under the knees, circled with her between the glass cases with shoes.
- What are you doing? - She was indignant just for decency.
"I am glad," he answered honestly. Putting his wife on her feet, looked into her eyes, and frankly boasted:
- We have concluded deals that secure Passionis in Europe. The receivers of Bellagio bite their elbows that once they left us. Sinan is counting future profits and they are impressive. We can, without attracting outside investors, open Sapphire. "His eyes lit up with tenderness. "And my wife is the most beautiful woman in the world, and I'm an unreal lucky guy." Isn't life beautiful?
"Beautiful," Defne agreed and squinted slyly, "but it will be even more beautiful if you now lead me to drink hot chocolate."
- Are you cold? - Omer squeezed her fingers in his hands. They turned out to be cold.
"A little bit," she admitted. The gallery was like a glacier.
- Then let's go faster. Today it's so cold, and you don't wear a coat. And I, like an idiot, did not foresee it, - he hid her fingers in his hand and led to the cafe.
"Beloved, I'm an adult girl and I have to think about such things," Defne protested, but from his very words, her heartfelt warm.
"But you didn't know that sunny days in Milan can be so cold in late autumn." But I knew. So don't protect me. I'm to blame, period.
"I will always protect you," Defne objected, and now the heat was flowing in Omer's soul.
But they didn't get into the cafe. As soon as she crossed the threshold and inhaled the chocolate-vanilla aromas, Defne winced and pulled Omer into the street.
"I changed my mind," she said. "I don't want hot chocolate." I want in the room and to lie down for half an hour.
Omer was surprised at such changes in desires but did not object. To the room so to the room. There he will warm her.
And he warmed her. First, under the hot shower, and then - captivating her with his hands and lips on the soft bed, which burned with fire from the heat of passionate bodies.
***
The taxi drove its passengers to a four-story building on one of Milan's quiet streets. It was as if it had come down from an antique postcard - marble columns supporting the visor of the porch; stucco molding around windows; red-tiled roof and ivy-covered balconies. Near the old, terracotta-painted door, eight copper buttons on which the numbers were engraved. Omer pressed one of them. The door snapped and opened. Iplikci couple went inside and climbed a wide staircase to the second floor.
Laura was waiting for them near the open door. In jeans and a white pullover, she looked homely cute, without any hint of pretentiousness. Defne, who was worried whether her narrow brown trousers and a caramel-colored sweater would be appropriate in the count's house, calmed down. And the house itself did not at all resemble the dwelling in which the countess should live. No gilding, old paintings, and massive furniture. Parquet floors, smooth white ceilings, soft sofas, and on the walls are paintings by contemporary artists.
Laura sincerely rejoiced at the guests. She took their coats and hung them in the closet, thanked for the wine brought and a box of nut cookies, and with a sweet smile called into the living room. From it, through the openwork arch, a beautifully served table was visible. The air was filled with aromas of basil and olive oil. A delicious combination that made Defne salivate. She offered Laura to help in the kitchen, but she refused. She invited the guests to the table on which there were snacks, salad, and wine, and she went for the hot dish. It turned out lasagna. Defne looked fascinated at the thin sheets of dough, and between them - minced meat, an aromatic sauce, and spicy, divinely smelling cheese. The taste was also amazing, about which she told Laura. She was happy as a child and admitted:
- I love to cook.
"Me too," said Defne and dared to ask a question that was on her tongue from the very beginning of the dinner: "But for me I understand." A girl from a poor area, and even with such a grandmother, but you Countess...
"You," Laura corrected her.
"You," Defne agreed. - Count's daughter and kitchen. Not quite a familiar combination.
"I grew up in the kitchen," the countess smiled with light sadness. - My mother died in childbirth. Father soon married. They had a son with his new wife, my brother. The attention of everyone in the family turned to him. Our cook, Gina, was the only person in the house who loved me. So I disappeared in her kingdom.
Defne's heart ached. To her tears, she felt sorry for the pretty little girl that her father and stepmother did not need. And so she runs away to the only person who loves her - the cook.
"Is Gina still working in your family home now?" - restraining tears, she asked.
- No. She died. A year before the death of my father.
- Did your father die? - surprised Omer. He well remembered Count Rastrelli, a handsome, arrogant man who did not welcome his daughter's friendship with foreign plebeians.
"Yes," Laura confirmed. - Three years ago. Crashed his car.
- I'm so sorry.
Laura nodded and spoke abruptly and quickly.
"Maybe it's a sin, but when he died, I felt free." There was no longer anyone to sacrifice my life for.
"And you filed for divorce?" - suggested Omer.
"You have always been very perceptive," Laura smiled bitterly.
"And so after the divorce, you didn't return to the castle?" - ignoring her compliment, he asked the next question.
"I had nothing to do there." I was removed from the family business. My father did not even mention me in the will. He probably thought that the fear of losing a luxurious life and status would keep me next to Luke. "She grinned wryly. "He never understood me." He didn't understand that I ruined my life for the love of him, and not because ... Okay. All this is no longer important. Let's have dinner, otherwise, the lasagna will cool.
She straightened up and, cutting off a tiny fragrant piece, put it in her mouth. But she had no idea if she could swallow it.
"It will be a crime to let such a yummy dish get cold," Defne supported her and cast a warning look at Omer. "Be quiet," it said. "Do not poison her soul more." He lowered his gaze to the plate and focused on cutting a piece of the cheese-melted lasagna into neat little squares.
"I haven't cooked for so long," Laura spoke again. - I was afraid that I had lost my skills.
"Not at all," Omer reassured. - Everything is just as tasty as in student days. Why haven't you cooked for a long time?
"There was no one for that," Laura lowered her eyes. - In the house of Luke, they did not let me close to the kitchen. Because cooking is a plebeian occupation and is not worthy of Countess Cesare. And now, for myself ... I do not want to. Yes, and I eat little," Laura shook her head. As if driven away by dreary thoughts. She smiled broadly and winked at all not aristocratic. - But today was a pleasure to cook! I remembered my student years.
"If not for you, Ahtem and I would have starved to death," Omer supported her.
Defne's eyes widened in amazement. Ahtem? Her jeweler teacher? Although that's not strange. After all, he studied with Omer on the same course and, of course, knew Laura. She looked at the girl. Her face has subtly changed. Only for a couple of moments unbearable pain and longing distorted subtle features, but she immediately pulled herself together. Here are just her trembling voice betrayed her.
"Do you see him?" Ahtem?
"Yes," answered Omer.
- And how is he?
Defne's heart ached. So much pain was in this simple question.
"Why don't you ask him?" - said Omer. "He is a famous jeweler, one of the best, and sure you saw his site and you know the address."
Laura lowered her head and closed her eyes.
"He doesn't want to talk to me." I tried right after the divorce. I wrote him a letter and sent it by e-mail ..., - she fell silent.
- And? - Defne intervened. Not knowing the details of the story, she felt with her heart - this is love. Huge and bitter, which tormented Laura's heart. She needs to talk. And he and Omer are good listeners. They will understand, support, and help with everything in their power. True, Omer looks frowningly ... but that doesn't matter. He is always ready to help a friend.
- He replied that I was mistaken with the address. He does not know me ... - whispered Laura and cried.
Defne pulled up from her seat and reached for her. She hugged Laura's shoulders and pressed her head to her.
"Hush, sweetheart, hush," she asked, stroking her dark hair. - It was not he who said it, but his insult. If it is still so painful, then love has not cooled down...
"He almost died when you left him and married Luke," Omer suddenly spoke toughly, and Defne looked at him reproachfully. But he did not change his tone. He spoke as if he were waving a whip. "It took him several years to get to his feet." He opened a workshop, works ... lives.
- Does he live? Defne asked angrily and looked deep into his black eyes.
"You only saw him a couple of times," Omer recalled.
- You're right. A couple of times. But that did not stop me from seeing the emptiness in his eyes. And the pain in Laura's eyes. Omer, I do not know what happened in the past, but they have no future without each other!
Defne's eyes, sparkling with hot determination, looked at her husband. When Laura spoke, Defne flinched.
"I betrayed ..." she said barely audibly. "I chose my father, religion, country ... but not him ... not him." He will not forgive me.
"He will forgive you," Omer said confidently, and both girls stared at him with bewildered eyes. "He lived without you for five years." If he still hasn't fallen out of love, then he never will. And he understands this. Like the fact that without you there is no life. Only existence. А miserable vegetation of a person. But if you appear in his life, and he will want warmth and happiness. He will want so much that he will not be able to resist and hold on to pride and resentment. Will want you the most in life. Because it is love.
"Beloved," Defne breathed admiringly. "The great psychologist died in you."
Laura, looking at her friend with dazed eyes, only nodded, agreeing with Defne's words. Omer smiled thoughtfully at both of them and answered:
"Just an experience." But it is already in the past. We now need to think about something else. Laura, how much are Italy and Milan holding you?
"Not an ounce," she answered firmly, and resolutely raised her chin.
- How do you look at changing your place of residence and work? - asked the next question, Omer.
"I can immediately," and again not thinking twice.
"Are you a jewelry expert?
" Defne, not understanding what her husband was getting at, turned her surprised look from him to Laura.
"One of the best," the girl's voice didn't show a shadow of boasting. Just a statement of fact.
And then Defne hit herself on the forehead with a palm.
- Here I am, slow-witted! Sapphire! - She sat down in her seat and took her husband's hand. Looking into his eyes, she ardently asked: - Omer, I do not want to be a creative director. I honestly don't want to. I just did not know how to tell you this. All these managerial functions are not for me. I want to draw jewelry sketches and nothing more. And Laura with her education, experience ... Omer, we cannot find the best creative director!
"I didn't know how to say it!" I am stunned. We'll talk more about this," he threatened and smiled broadly. "I agree, of course."
"Friends, I missed the thread of something and don't understand what you're talking about," Laura interposed.
Iplikci exchanged meaningful smiles and turned happy faces towards her.
"We're opening a jewelry company," Omer explained. - Sapphire. Sketches belong to Defne. And Ahtem will give them life," Laura's eyes flashed with radiant light. "What do you think of Defne's proposal?" Agree?
- Do you ask?
Iplikci smiled back. Laura closed her eyes and pressed her hands to her chest. Blessed Virgin Mary! Will she start living again?
***
Omer and Defne, holding hands, slowly wandered through the city at night. The wind died down and the still air was cold and fresh. Defne inhaled it deeply and was drunk with this purity. The sky was dark and completely starless. From this, it seemed that it had descended to the ground and was hiding in its velvet embrace the whole large and sleepy world.
Defne scrolled Omer's speech about forgiveness in her head. Every word. And she understood them in a completely different way. More precisely, she understood him differently. Beloved husband and the meaning of her life.
"That's why you forgave me?" She asked softly.
"Yes," he answered just as quietly, but clearly. "I am selfish, Defne." I realized that without you I would not have life and the question of forgiveness fell off by itself. But the other stood up. How to earn your forgiveness? You were so determined not to let me into your life again.
"Too much had happened," Defne sighed heavily. - I have upset my family very much. Especially grandma. And I decided that if my life does not matter to me, then they need it. And I will live for them. Not dreaming of happiness and love, just exist. But you did not allow it. And grandmother too ... I was so angry with her. Though she gave up on me. Pushed me away. But it turned out - pushed to happiness.
- I will be forever grateful to aunt Turkan for this. And for believing me when no one believed.
"Well, here you are cunning," Defne protested smilingly. "Nihan and Esra were also on your side."
"You're right," Omer agreed easily.
"Will we go get them presents tomorrow?" That is, for the family.
Omer thought about grandfather. After all, he never thanked him for his help in gaining the favor of aunt Turkan. And his beloved wife needs a new winter wardrobe. Where, if not in the world capital of fashion to buy it? He raised their locked hands to his lips and kissed her warm fingers.
- Of course. And not just for them. For you too. I want you to relax tomorrow completely and buy everything that your gaze stops at.
- Seriously? - She raised her face to him, on which incredulous anticipation was read.
"Absolutely," Omer assured.
- Class! She exclaimed enthusiastically, and her gait turned from measured to dancing. "You are the perfect husband!" Do you know about this?
Omer stopped and, pulling her to him, took her laughing face in his large palms. Wandering his gaze and stroking her delicate skin with his fingers, he replied:
"Because you are the perfect wife." I am so happy with you and I want you to be happy too. Always. Everyday. Every minute.
- This is your wish? - a fire sparked in the eyes of Defne.
"Yes." His gaze became suspicious. "What are you up to?
"She laughed and pulled his hand across the square to the deserted building of the Gallery Vittorio Emanuel.
- Run!
They ran. Laughing and rejoicing like children. Listening to the sound of their steps, which echoed under the glass arch. The guard looked at them suspiciously, but, seeing that these were tourists in love, he did not stop them.
Defne led Omer under the glass dome and nodded to the center of the intersection of the galleries:
- Make a wish. But remember - without you and your happiness, I won't be happy.
Omer went to the mosaic of the bull and stood on a place worn by millions of legs. Closing his eyes, he spun around and mentally shouted to the Universe his desire. Stepping back, he called Defne:
- Now you.
She went up and stood at the right place smiled. Then she threw back her head and spun in place. She whispered gratitude to the sky. For Omer. For a life filled with love and happiness. For this night. And she asked ... to continue. And at that moment she was stopped and strong arms hugged her tightly. Hot lips pressed to her lips, and she answered, putting all her love and infinite tenderness into this kiss.
In the sky, above the glass dome, among the invisible clouds, a star appeared. She flickered, touched with thin ray the fiery hair of the girl, and they flashed a golden light...
This night will be special. Long, hot, and tender. Filled with quiet moans and intermittent sighs, bliss, and frantic passion. Like all previous and all subsequent. Each night is special. Both Omer and Defne knew this for sure.
***
"Why are we going up to the roof of the cathedral?" - Seda walked over the steps of the spiral staircase and her head was spinning from endless turns.
Sinan, rising behind answered:
- Then, to visit Milan and not look at the night city from a bird's view is a crime.
Seda sighed. The view of Milan at night is certainly tempting, but she is so tired for the day. Moreover, as by the law of meanness, it was precisely today that the elevator broke in the cathedral and they had to go up the stairs. When the last stairsteps ended, she breathed a sigh of relief and went out onto the roof.
Climbing the stairs was worth it. The city, sparkling with thousands of lights, lay at their feet. The tops of the cathedral burst into the night sky and the crowning figures of the holy martyrs seemed like heavenly sentinels. The spectacle was truly grand and breathtaking. Even fatigue evaporated without a trace.
- Allah! Whispered Seda. - How beautiful.
Sinan, who was standing behind, rolled up his eyes and exhaled in relief. She liked it! The damn elevator spoiled all his great plans, and he already doubted whether to realize them or not. But he decided to take a chance. He took a square medium-sized box from his coat pocket and called the girl:
- Seda!
Hearing her name, she turned around. Sinan stood all so solemn and held in his hands an open box ... with candy. Seda's eyebrows went up.
"Sinan, I don't want candy."
- You want, you want! - assured in a trembling voice, he poked at the largest, beautifully packed one, which lay in the middle of the box. - This one!
"Or maybe not," Seda tried to object. It's nine in the evening. What candy?
- You need! - He did not give up and took a step closer.
She did not want to offend Sinan he is such a good soul. He is the first man who has become important and necessary for her. Even more important than her desires.
She took the candy. She unfolded the gold foil and blinked her eyes, not sure what she saw. On top of the chocolate was put ... a ring. Round diamond in a white gold frame. Simple and unique at the same time. Seda looked up at Sinan, dumbfounded. He swallowed, took in a breath of air, and blurted out:
- I love you. Very much. I want to take Nisa with you from the hospital. And take her to the mountains where the air is clean and milk is fresh. She will forget about her illness there. You and I will rejoice with her ... Marry me!
Everything inside Seda turned over from his words. She believed him. She believed with all the heart, but...
"We know each other for so little time." Just a couple of months ... - Nonsense! I knew that you were my destiny from the first minute I met you. Why waste time if we can just be happy?
He is right. Allah, how right he is! Life goes by and it's stupid to lose precious moments of happiness because of prejudice. She smiled and whispered:
- I love you. And yes! I will become your wife.
***
Iz in a silk black robe thrown over the nightdress came out of the shower and stopped near the bed. She didn't want to sleep. To watch TV too. And the tablet was boring to hell. The soul trying and demanded ... she did not know what she demanded. She knew more precisely, but...
The knock on the balcony door frightened her terribly. Fourth floor, single balcony. Who could it be? She jerked back the curtain. Behind the glass loomed a tall figure in a white shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows.
- Deniz?! She exclaimed in amazement and hastily opened the door. - How did you get here? Your balcony is a floor below.
"On the wings of love," he answered ironically as he entered the room. "But I must say, the drainpipes here, though old, are strong."But dirty. "He looked at his palms and rubbed the rusty spots on his white shirt. - Can I wash my hands?
"You can," answered Iz, bewildered, and then cried out: "Have you climbed the drainpipe?" Are you completely crazy? And if they broke?
"Well, it didn't break loose," he went to the bathroom, unbuttoning his shirt.
- But was it impossible to knock on the door, like all normal people? - angry Iz went to follow him.
"Uh," he answered, taking off his shirt and tossing it into the laundry basket. "You would have stopped me at the doorstep and slam the door under my nose."
He turned on the water and put his hands under it.
"And I would have done right." You are so impudent that the world has not seen one like you!
Iz removed a towel from the hook and handed it to him. He wiped his hands and casually threw it on the side of the bathroom. He laid his palms on her hips and crumpled the thin fabric with his fingers. Demanding lips pressed against her neck.
"You want to seduce me again as an affordable girl?"
She did not know where she had the power to nag at him. Inside, everything burned with fire and her treacherous body demanded to yield.
"No," he answered, and pulled her hand into the room, "I want to seduce you, like a bride."
He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a ring from there. So casually as if it was not an expensive emerald in a platinum frame, but a piece of cheap jewelry. She looked at him with eyes wide with surprise. The very ring to which her gaze and soul stuck. But how did he know?
"Marry me," her goddamn personal tempting serpent asked her hoarsely.
- So fast?
- Why wait. We are not twenty years old to test our feelings for years. I love you, you love me...
- Are you sure? - interrupted him Iz. "Sure that I love you?"
- Absolutely. As in the fact that losing time is a crime. I want to sleep with you every night, to cook breakfast for you, to put to bed when you get over with alcohol...
- Yes, I go over alcohol once a century! Cried Iz.
- Here I am, once a century, and I will lay your unconscious body in a horizontal position! Snapped Deniz. - So do you agree or not?!!!
- Yes!!!! - screamed angrily Iz and hold out her hand. - Put it on!!!
***
Omer did not want to open his eyes at all. He lay spread out on the huge bed and enjoy the feeling of lightness and tickling bliss throughout his body. And the reason for his joy was stomping barefoot around the room and humming softly.
"Omer, I know you're awake," she sat down on the bed and patted his shoulder. Without opening his eyes, he smiled. - Aah! You do not sleep! Well, get up! I ordered breakfast. They will bring it soon. Shall we have breakfast on the terrace? It is so beautiful. And not at all cold. Today will be a warm day, - his bird Defne chirped, and the happiness in his chest grew to incredible sizes.
He opened his eyes and pulled her toward him. Hanging over her, he smiled a devilishly crafty smile and answered:
- First a kiss!
Well, can one refuse him? Also, the day that began with a kiss will certainly be beautiful.
They had breakfast on the terrace. Leaning on the soft pillows of the wicker sofa, they enjoyed each other's happy eyes, and the sunny, clear morning. And there was no one in the world and nothing that could ruin their mood today.
Even shopping that Omer couldn't tolerate turned into entertainment. It was so much fun to choose gifts for the family and laughing, to imagine their faces how they would be surprised and delighted. Defne masterfully imitated everyone, even baby Iso, and Omer squirmed with laughter. Well, to see Defne coming out of the fitting rooms in new outfits was generally an aesthetic pleasure.
As Omer promised, they bought everything that Defne's gaze stopped at, and the gleam of her eyes was his greatest reward.
In the evening, Omer impeccably dressed and ready to leave was waiting for his wife in the living room of the apartment. The door to the bedroom was closed and easy steps were heard behind it. He looked at his watch. After a couple of minutes, they need to go out, but Defne is still not ready.
"Beloved," he called impatiently.
"I'm coming," she answered and the door opened.
His heart skipped a beat. On the threshold stood a red-haired angel in a long, silk, gray-blue dress. She was impossible, unreal, incredibly beautiful. Ephemeral Fairy and the refined Queen. The Queen of his heart.
- How do you like it? She asked fearfully.
Omer went up to her, kissed her delicate shoulder, and answered.
- Today, all men will envy me.
"And I have all the women," she gave his slender figure an admiring look. "But we don't care!" Truth?
- Truth!
Omer laid her hand on the bend of his elbow and led to the door.
They went outside and headed for the limousine awaiting them. Beautiful, shining with happiness, attracting admiring glances. Their magical evening came into its own.
The luxurious hall was fragrant with flowers and expensive perfumes, sparkled with lights in the glasses with champagne and jewelry of beautiful women. Three couples stopped at the column and, without hiding their eyes shining with happiness, spoke quietly about something.
A short-haired woman stood aside and squeezed a glass of champagne with white fingers. A black dress covered her body from neck to floor and made her look like a crow. Watery eyes burned with envy. How she wanted to be there, in this tight circle. To stand with her head proudly raised and hold the most perfect man in the world by the arm.
Her gaze flashed with cold rage. To hell with everything and everyone. Moral principles will not make her happy. She loves, which means she has the right to fight for her love! She brought a glass to her mouth and drank the champagne in one gulp.
- Omer, do tell! What kind of surprise? Sinan asked. The others unanimously supported him. Only Defne smiled mysteriously and looked at her husband with radiant eyes.
"You will see soon," he intrigued and looked at the wide staircase. When a black-clad figure appeared on it, he smiled broadly and announced:
- And here it is! The promised surprise. Surprised?