One of the best, and most important things about family is the fact that its members care about one another. They care if one of them is hurting, they care if one of them feels left out. Although life is full of exceptions to this golden rule, there are also families that keep on holding strong together. And supporting each other. No matter what...
Sanem's heart felt as if it sank to it's lowest low. She thought that the days when they had to face Fabri were gone. She thought that she put an end to his presence in their lives. But she was wrong. Fabri not only kept calling her, he advised her that the formula for her perfumes was incomplete and he needed her attention and complete assistance. If not, he would turn back around and refile his charges against Can. That was something she never wanted to happen, nor was she prepared to chance it. So, she had gone back to his company's laboratory and worked with the laboratory technicians to fulfill her end of the bargain. No sooner did she finish helping the technicians, Fabri appeared. He had been firm but all too polite, which unnerved her even more. She left his building and needed to breathe the cool fresh air just to remain calm...
Walking back to Fikri Harika, her heart was still aching. Her head was still spinning in all possible directions when Can caught up with her. He attempted to surprise her, but it was she who surprised him. Sanem may have been aloof as often as he could remember, but her state of mind alarmed him. What could have possibly put such a grim shadow on her face? What could have possibly dimmed that light in her eyes? He asked her, but she brushes it all off as a sign of her having to run back to the agency. Then again, she babbled in her response, which was always a sign of something brewing in her mind, and it was a sign that something was not as it seemed, and that she tried to cover it up. Yet, the more he pressed her for the answer, the more she denied that something wasn't right. So he trusted her, choosing to trust his beloved rather than question her words.
They were both equally stunned when Ceyda appeared right behind them. As usually, unannounced. Sanem greeted her with a smile as big as she could afford. Ceyda replied with her own smile. But she wasn't her usual self. She appeared worried. Can guided them to his office, and Ceyda's words turned his gut. Fabri was coming out with his own perfume. With his own campaign to rival thst of Redmode's. Ceyda had good reason to worry because McKennon requested that the campaign being prepared by Fikri Harika be pushed up. Can wasn't worried. Though was thrown off by the fact that they would have to speed up the release of the Redmode campaign, he trusted his employees and knew they would meet the new deadline. But there was another aspect of what Ceyda revealed that intrigued him. One that made him wonder silently about McKennon. Fikri Harika dealt with matters involving a spy planted at the agency. And McKennon planted one at Fabri's company himself?
No one was as shocked at that news, though, as Sanem. She could not move. She could not breathe. She did not even try to gasp for air, because she felt her lungs had compressed. She felt as if she had no more blood left in her body because it all rushed to her head, and then her heart. She listened to Can while he spoke to Ceyda. No words scared her more than to hear that he would be glad to make Fabri pay for everything Fabri had done, and when he added that Fabri kept calling Sanem, she felt her throat squeezed to its limit. She was grateful to Deren for coming in when she did. But Deren herself was surprised too at Can's words regarding Fabri. They were still contracted with Fabri's company to do their campaigns until recently, and there was no mention of a new perfume campaign. None.
Sanem excused herself from Can's office, and barely walked to the door. She closed it behind her, and breathed out her worst fears. Just as she did, Leyla came around and saw the utter horror on her sister's face. And in her eyes. Sanem rushed Leyla into her office, and revealed that her fears were coming true. Fabri wasn't done with them. Fabri was releasing a new perfume - most likely HER perfume. And Can would soon discover what she had done. Leyla tried her best to calm her sister down. Nothing was certain yet. Leyla pointed out one very important fact: Ceyda herself was not certain how the perfume being created actually smelled like, or whether the spy saw Sanem. And most of all, Ceyda would have told Can if she knew Sanem was involved with Fabri. So this oy meant that Ceyda was unaware of Sanem's cooperation with Fabri.
To ease Sanem's mind, Leyla decided to switch gears. She tried a new topic. She mentioned their parents. The time had finally come when
they needed to make up and put an end to their spousal feud. Once and for all. And Leyla had a plan - one that actually ended up in the most precious success. Whether Mevkibe and Nihat fought with one another or not, their love never ended because they mattered to each other. Rain or shine, hail or snow, in sickness or in health, Mevkibe and Nihat knew there was something that was more important than broken promises, mistakes, or aching hearts. And that was their love.
As soon as Sanem let Nihat know that Mevkibe needed his help, and as soon as Leyla advised Mevkibe that Nihat was in danger, they dropped everything and rushed home. Only to be locked inside. With a table set romantically for two, complete with candles, balloons, and rose petals. Though their minds were still wrapped up in a storm, their hearts knew it was time to forgive one another. They spent the evening looking through many old photographs their loving daughters purposefully laid out before them on the dining room table. The fact that Sanem and Leyla went through such lengths just to remind them how much they cared and how much they loved each other, meant everything. They had made it thus far by holding on to each other, and they knew they would do so for all of their lives. And the fact that Nihat decided to use his flirtatious charm made Mevkibe bring on her calming charm herself, so much so that she reminded him that he was her blue eyed lion. They spent that evening holding on to their memories and on to each other...
On the other side of the town, Sanem stood at the doorstep to Can's house. She was still filled with doubt and worry. Even seeing Can open the door did not ease the knotts in her stomach. They actually twisted even worse. Can could not pinpoint what was going on in her head, but he knew something wasn't right. Something was off. Whether Sanem was willing to admit it or not. Instead of demanding answers, he held her close. He wanted his peace and calm energy to transfer to her. It worked, though only for a heartbeat. Because the moment he held her close the doors to the house opened, and none other Hüma herself waltzed in as if she owned the place.
Can was livid. Forget about being speechless. He was completely livid. And he let Hüma know how he felt about seeing her, but more importantly about seeing her suitcases. The fact that Emre agreed with her sick plan to stomp back into their lives as if nothing ever happened bothered him even more. The only good thing about that moment was Sanem. She brightened up his mood with one bright smile, which she offered to him even after Hüma made her put away her coat, as if Sanem was a servant and not his beloved.
The evening ran smoother than it began when the rest of the Fikri Harika employees arrived. They joined their thoughts and ideas about the next step of the campaign. And again, Sanem's thoughts and concentration were galaxies away. When Can asked her what she envisioned for the campaign, she offered a response that resulted in Deren rolling her eyes. She scolded Sanem for the lack of any idea that actually made sense. But, much to everyone's shock, Sanem's defense came from the most unlike source. Hüma. Sanem's head turned in a double take, so did everyone else's. But not Can's. Then, soon after Hüma asked Sanem for a cup of her çay, Hüma offered another compliment to Sanem for her skilled hands and a gift in çay brewing.
Though Sanem was thrilled, Can knew better. No one knew Hüma like he did. He saw right through her vague smile and insincere words. He tried his best to convince Sanem that it was pointless for her to try to win Hüma over. That Hüma's politeness was artificial. That her sweet words were filled with her sickening venom. And he did not need to wait long for affirmation of his words. He wasn't even surprised to see Ceyda waltz in and right into Hüma's wide open arms. He was surprised that they knew each other, but not at all surpised that they chirped together like happily cheerful vultures, awaiting their prey.
To Can, the evening soured to its limits. He was done, literally. When Deren approached him and asked if their meeting could end, he could not have agreed with her more. Everyone was leaving, and so was he. Hüma immediately voiced her opinion, right after Ceyda. Why didn't that surprise him at all? He almost laughed at the idea of Hüma and Ceyda's synchronized gestures and almost xeroxed facial expressions. If Hüma thought for a split second that he would have preferred their company, she was wrong. Completely wrong.
After Can dropped Sanem home, he drove to his mountain home. While Sanem enjoyed moments filled with love, happiness, and a sense of belonging to a family that cared about each other, he spent the rest of the night alone, and achingly lonely. The mountain home that was always his refuge now stood dark, cold, and unwelcoming. Turning on the lights did not help one bit. Deciding to gather courage, he reached for an old tin box. That box contained his entire childhood. Sanem may have grown up in an underprivileged family, but she was the lucky one. Where Sanem had an entire trunk full of happy memories, positive thoughts, and toys that still brought a smile to her face, Can only had a handful of items that meant something to him.
The tin box contained a few items Can had chosen to keep to remind him of his childhood. Among the few glass marbles, a toy car, and a toy figurine, there was a photo. A lone photo. An only photo he kept of his mother. He had sworn to himself long ago that he would never look at that photo with any emotion other than indifference. Indifference rooted in pain. Pain he felt when she left. And now pain felt because she had returned. Because, underneath it all, there was one constant and painful reminder of the difference between his mother and him. One painful difference. A difference in caring...