- Fikret!
The girl at the window jerked at the sound of a squeaky voice. Putting on her face a mask of cold indifference, she slowly turned around.
- Yes, grandmother?
- Time for dinner. Tradition has always been respected in this house. Be kind, and you stick to them. Fatima has already set the table.
Fikret looked at the old woman. Straight, like a stick, all in black, harsh, and cold. As long as she remembered herself, grandmother was always like that. Only the number of wrinkles on her face changed, but hеr expression remained the same - arrogant and contemptuous. As a child, Fikret thought that if she was good and obedient, her grandmother would smile at her, stroke her hear, hug her. She had seen other grandmothers treat their grandchildren like that. But a miracle did not happen. Never.
"I remember," Fikret answered, not hiding her irony. - Traditions above all. Hurry up. We will not detain Fatima.
She walked past the old woman and went out the door. Squinting at her, the woman went to the window and looked where the granddaughter peered a few minutes ago. To the neighboring house. Pursing her lips, she shook her head condemningly. Strange people. Even on the windows do not hang curtains. Showing their happiness to everyone. They don't know - it needs to be hidden. Human envy and anger do not know pity and condescension.
***
In Ipliкci's new house, chandeliers shone brightly with golden light, the scent of fresh pastries hung in the air, and laughter sounded loud. Close friends who have now become partners, discussing working moments, moved on to pleasant things - they celebrated the birth of their new company. Omer opened champagne, and for Defne brought juice from white grapes. She laughed and said that it tastes better than champagne and the color is almost the same. Only there are no bubbles. Omer winked and suggested adding soda to it.
The filled glasses touched and nicely clinked.
"For the smooth road for Sapphire," said Omer.
"For luck," Deniz supported him.
Defne smiled at her husband with a radiant smile. He answered with a look of love and tenderness. Holding her gaze he took a sip. In Defne's chest sang violins. She closed her eyes and thanked the heavens warmly. For this house, for a given happy life, for the opportunity to be loved. For Omer.
Laura also found the courage to look into Ahtem's eyes. And met his gaze. Impervious, but burning. No matter how she wanted, she could not read his thoughts. But he could not hide his feelings. No matter how much he tried to hide them, they lived their own lives and glowed with fire.
After the hungry guests emptied the snack trays, the host turned on the music. Sinan led Seda to dance, Deniz, invited Iz. Omer grabbed the laughing Defne in his arms and spun with her on the parquet.
Laura decided to quietly evaporate. Grabbing a tray with cups, she went out into the kitchen. Putting it near the sink, she went to the window and wrapped her arms around her shoulders. Behind, the door closed with an almost inaudible click. The back of her head warmed and goosebumps ran down her spine. She did not need to look back to understand who was behind.
"So this is the old friend and his wife who offered you a job?"
She closed her eyes. Favorite voice, up to trembling deep and dear. How much she missed it.
- Yes.
- Didn't there be similar offers in Italy? And what about the family company. Doesn't it need your knowledge? Why did you leave Italy and choose Istanbul?
Laura looked around. She came so close to him that she saw golden dots in his black eyes like night. She felt his scent. She heard him breathing. Looking into his eyes, she asked:
"What do you think, why?"
He twisted his lips in a perplexed grimace.
- I can't even imagine.
"And imagine," she advised. - Imagine. Maybe then you will find the answer to your question.
Laura, like a true countess, went out the door with calm dignity and gently closed it behind herself. Left alone, Ahtem gritted his teeth to the aches and clasped his head in his hands. The mental equilibrium that he had built so hard over the past years collapsed like a house of cards, and he could not do anything about it. The flame broke out with renewed vigor and every second turned into an uncontrolled avalanche of fire, which threatened to burn the hell out of his reason. Ahtem groaned and whispered hoarsely:
- What should I do?
He returned to the room a few minutes later. The dancing ended, the music was barely audible, and the guests were going home.
"Ahtem," Defne turned to him, "will you give Laura a ride to her home?" I would not want her to take a taxi so late alone. I will worry.
The heart in the chest made a somersault and crashed into the heels. But not a single muscle flinched on his cool face. He nodded and addressed the girl:
- Countess Cesare, in which area of Istanbul is the hotel located?
Laura smiled at the corner of her mouth and answered:
- Not a hotel.A house. I rent it today and moved. In Bakirkoy.
His heart jumped to his throat and blocked breath. Did these women decide to bring him to a heart attack today?
- Well. Then we are on the road, - he answered with a voice without emotion.
"Just please call me as before, Laura."
"You don't like your title anymore?" - giving her coat mockingly asked Ahtem.
Laura gracefully put her hands into the sleeves and turned to face him. She looked into the eyes, and it seemed to him in the soul. And she answered:
"Whatever you think, but it never mattered to me." Never.
She went to Defne, kissed her on the cheek, and whispered:
- Thanks.
Defne squeezed her hand encouragingly and answered with her eyes: "Good luck!"
Omer escorted guests to the street. Saying goodbye and closing the old, massive gates behind the departed cars, he returned to the house. Defne swayed slowly in her rocking chair and pondered something intently. Omer rested his hands on the armrests and leaned toward his wife's face. He kissed the lips smelling of grapes and asked:
- Tired?
She smiled and shook her head.
- Not at all! Today was such a wonderful evening.
- Why was it? - Omer raised an eyebrow slyly and smiled at the corner of his mouth. - It continues. Today we haven't eaten ice cream yet. What kind do you want pistachio or raspberry?
"Pistachio ... and raspberry," Defne funny wrinkled her nose. - I cannot decide.
Omer gently snapped his finger on this very nose and promised:
- Then I bring both.
They sat side by side on the sofa and ate ice cream from one bowl. Defne took turns either pale green or muted pink and enjoyed the nutty and berry taste. Omer was looking at her and savor. Who would have thought that watching the wife eat ice cream is a thrill?
"How cleverly you turned Ahtem around your finger and put him before the fact that he was taking Laura home," he said admiringly.
"Did it really work out well?" Asked Defne vividly.
"One can't imagine a better idea," Omer put his index finger and thumb together. "You acted like a real matchmaker."
- That's it! - Defne winked at him. But after a moment, her face became serious. - I just really want them to be able to step over the past and forgive each other and themselves.Аs you and I did.
Omer set the empty bowl on a low table and put an arm around her shoulders. Silently kissed the top of her head and pressed his cheek to her. He again admired his wife. Her kind heart and big as the universe, soul. The ability to sympathize with all her heart, and in the same way, with all her heart, enjoy the happiness of others. There was not a drop of envy and arrogance in her. Only mercy and gentle warmth. And this kind of angel is his wife. He took it as a miracle and knew for sure - it will always be like this. Defne will never become a habit for him. And in a hundred years he will be amazed at the incredible luck that fate gave him exactly her. His Defne. Defne for Omer.
- Why are you silent? She asked softly.
- I'm thinking.
- About what?
- About you.
She laughed and rubbed her cheek against his shoulder.
"How good ..."
- What's good?
"To know that you think of me."
He turned her face to himself and looked into clean, shining eyes.
- I always think about you. Every minute.
Defne pressed a hand to his cheek and asked:
- Let's go upstairs.
Fikret again stood at the window of her room in her father's house. Ever since she saw four days ago how the familiar black Mercedes drove up to a neighboring estate, she only kept doing that staying and looking out the window. She watched the happiness of others and that tore her heart.
So now she saw a light come on in a room on the second floor. The silhouette of Omer flashed through with Defne in his arms. She even made out their faces - happy and shining with tenderness. Now he will put her on the bed, kiss, cover her stomach with his palm, and then he will go to the window and close the curtains. They will remain in their golden world, and she, Fikret, will crawl along the wall and, holding her fist in her mouth, will writhe on the cold, stone floor.
At the other end of the house, an old woman entered her ascetic room. She went to an old mirror and slowly pulled the black scarf off her head. She looked at the gray hair and her face fluttered. Bitter longing spread over wrinkles. Under the mirror stood an oak chest lined with copper. Turning the massive key, she lifted the lid. Bright colors played inside. Blue chiffon, turquoise silk, pale pink lace. The old woman gently touched them with a dry hand. Over the dresses lay a thick notebook in shabby leather binding. The woman took it in her arms. The thin lips quivered. The face has changed. Tenderness softened strict features and touched the eyes. The old woman stroked the rough binding of the notebook and whispered:
- Hello, my soul...
***
A dark blue SUV cut the darkness with the headlights. It dissipated only for a moment and again enveloped the car in an ink haze. Inside the car, it was dark and piercingly quiet. Ahtem did not utter a word all the way. Laura was silent too. There were so many words that she wanted to say, but would he hear?
When the car approached Bakirkoy, Ahtem finally broke the silence.
"Please tell me your address."
She told it, and he grunted in surprise.
- So we find ourselves, neighbors?
She said nothing again. It is foolish to play a surprise, but he will not understand the truth. Without waiting for an answer from her, Ahtem asked a new question:
- Why did you choose this area? It does not fit your lifestyle at all.
She threw her head back in the seat and answered with hidden bitterness in a deep voice:
"How do you know my lifestyle?"
"The one that matches the titled person," Ahtem answered firmly.
Knuckles turned white on the hands gripping the steering wheel. Laura, to the point of trembling, wanted to touch them ... Closing her eyes, she turned to the window and said smoothly:
- "Your misconceptions have not changed. And you're still sure of them.
- Misconceptions? He asked. - Interesting wording. And what am I mistaken about?
She looked at him and answered:
- In everything. You don't know anything about my life. Nothing.
"I don't want to know," he snapped. - We are colleagues and nothing more.
"Well! Have you heard? Laura asked herself. - Nothing new".
Nothing. Only the usual aching chest pain became sharper.
"As you say," she agreed.
He stopped the car in the parking lot between their modest but solid houses. Laura said quietly: "See you ...", and went out of the car. He looked behind her. If she had looked back, he would send everything to hell and rush to her. He would have hugged her in his arms and would not let go. He would have kissed her till stop breathing. He would say that he loves her and will no longer allow anyone to stand between them.
But she did not look back. She opened the door with the key and entered the house. A light flashed in the windows. It was it who became the catalyst for memories. Pictures of the past swam before his eyes.
A crystal chandelier shines brightly in the magnificent hall of the old palace. An arrogant, handsome man looks at him as if dust under his feet and lash like a whip with the words:
- You decided that you can lay claim to my daughter's hand. You, а plebeian and non-Christian? For the hand of Count Rastrelli's daughter? Forget it! Laura is getting married to Luigi Cesare. I do not advise you to seek meetings with her anymore. Otherwise, your stay in Italy will end sooner than you can finish your studies.
The man's face before his eyes gave way to the beautiful and desperate face of Laura.
"I have to ... forgive me if you can ..." she says.
He couldn't ...
Ahtem turned and, dropping his shoulders, wandered down to his house.
***
Deniz led Iz to the very door to her apartment. When she gave a goodbye hand, he clasped her long fingers and squeezed in his. And then he asked:
"I really want tea." Green with jasmine. Will you make it for me?
"Do you promise to behave yourself?" She asked in response.
He, demonstrating his obedience, silently raised his hands up. Iz opened the door and nodded.
- Come into the living room. I will make tea.
Deniz could not stay in the empty room alone. Without her. After wandering aimlessly from corner to corner, he went into the kitchen. Iz was making tea. Her movements were precise and smooth. Like a dancer, the room smelled of jasmine and something else elusively subtle and dear. He could not remember where he smelled this aroma, but his mind remembered it and responded with an aching sadness.
- What does it smell like? - he asked.
Iz smiled soft and gentle. As if not in the morning she threw thunder and lightning and drove him crazy with her obstinacy. Taking the dried stalk from the table, she brought it to the man's nose and explained:
- This is thyme. I always put it to the tea. Its bitter smell balances the sweetness of jasmine and tea ceases to be too sweet.
Deniz remembered.
"My mother loved tea with thyme," he said hoarsely.
- What was she like, your mother? - Iz poured tea and out of the corner of her eye watched him. He sat on a stool near the kitchen table and pulled his cup toward him. He took a deep breath and smiled sadly.
- Small, tender, and very beautiful. She always laughed and everyone around laughed with her. And then ..., - his face darkened, - she could not even smile. She became closed, shy. She didn't go out at all ... She wanted to seem inconspicuous ... When she got sick, my father connected the best doctors. But they were powerless. It is impossible to cure a person who does not want to live ...
Iz, restraining tears, gently touched his cheek. Deniz shook his head and, grabbing her hand, kissed her palm.
- Sorry, upset you ...
Silently, she pressed a hand to his mouth.
- You can upset me. I want to share your pain.
- And happiness? - looking into her eyes, he asked. "Do you want to share happiness with me?"
"I want to," she answered. - My mother always says: "If there is no one to share happiness with, then this is not happiness."
"Your mother is right," Deniz took a sip of tea from the cup and asked: "Tell me about your parents."
Iz smiled a bright smile.
- I have wonderful parents. Progressive. Not a typical Turkish family at all. Mom is Italian. Father is a Turk, but he studied in Rome and the European education left its mark. I grew up in love and respect. I had complete freedom to make my choice and make my decisions. For which I am very grateful to my father and mother.
"Now I understand from where comes this freedom-loving nature in you." You are lucky.
- Yes, I am. My mom and dad really love each other and me and my brother. At one time, they had to endure more than one battle with their parents for their feelings. But they won and were able to build a happy life.
Deniz shook his head thoughtfully and smiled.
"I don't know them yet, but I admire them already." And I want to meet them. Is it possible?
He, waiting for her answer, held his breath, and inseparably looked at her lively, mobile-like face. So she frowned a little, bit her lower lip, tried to hide a smile, but could not. She smiled broadly and answered:
- Why not. The town of Side is not on another continent.
Deniz leaned toward her and asked again:
- Iz, do you understand what I'm talking about? I'm not joking.
The response was bold and confident. Like the words:
"I'm completely serious, too."
Deniz threw back his head and laughed. Easy and free. Like a man who threw an unbearable burden from his shoulders. And then he kissed Iz on the lips and ordered:
- Then call them. Immediately. Say - we'll arrive for dinner tomorrow.
She blinked her eyes wide with amazement.
- Tomorrow? For dinner?
- Exactly! Tomorrow for dinner. As you rightly said, Side is not on another continent. Come on, come on! Yes, do not forget to say that I am flying to ask for your hand.
"Are we in a hurry?"
He dispelled the doubt with a kiss. Hot and cocky. Letting go of her lips, he looked into her eyes and answered:
- No. We are late. Five years for sure.
***
The day was rainy but surprisingly quiet and warm. Defne, leaning her head back on a rocking chair, sat on the terrace of her house and watched the rain, as fine as water dust. The drops did not hit, but lay on everything around with life-giving, seasoned with the smell of fallen leaves, moisture. It was easy and pleasant to breathe. Defne smiled at the thought. Strange, she never noticed that the air could be tasty.
"You never had time to think about it," whispered an inner voice. "You spun like a squirrel in a wheel." Troubles and worries did not allow you to raise your head and rejoice at such simple things.
"That's the way it is," Defne agreed with slight sadness.
This week was a revelation for her. Unable to scoot headlong to do several things at once, she opened her eyes wider and looked more closely at the world around her. She listened to herself. And suddenly she realized - she enjoys the forced idleness. She wrapped herself up in Omer's care, as if in a soft blanket, and is happy every minute of her life. Even the gray sky and boring rain do not spoil her mood. When the sun is shining inside, then any weather outside is good.
Zehra peeked out of the house. She looked at the girl and softly called:
- Defne! Aren't you cold, honey?
"No," she shook her head. - Today it's warm. But I would have drunk tea. With a cupcake. Will you do it?
- Now, girl. I'll make the most delicious," Zehra promised and hid in the house.
Defne's phone rang. Omer looked at her from the screen. Defne smiled at his image and accepted the call.
- I'm listening, my love!
- How are my girls doing? - a voice soft as velvet was heard.
"We are doing great." Watching the rain, looking at the sky, waiting for the tea promised by Zehra. In a word, we are lazy at home.
"How glad I am to hear that." Sit back and gain strength. Pamper the Bead.
"And how can I do this?" Defne laughed.
- Very simple - pamper yourself. When you are happy, she is also happy.
"I rejoice," Defne's voice faltered. - Every minute I rejoice. Never in my life have I been as happy as I am now.
"Remember these words, my soul." You will repeat them oooh very often. Everyday.
- Imagine, I have no doubt.
- That's smart! Why am I calling? Defne I made an appointment for you to see the doctor. Monday at nine in the morning.
- Good. Will you come with me?
"Are you still asking?" Of course, I will come. I am going to be a model husband and follow all the doctor's instructions.
- Will you do it or me? Defne laughed merrily again.
"You do it, and I control it," Omer said just as cheerfully. But the next moment his voice changed. He became official and strict. - Derya, I'm listening to you.
"Mr. Omer," Defne heard the muffled voice of Omer's assistant, "Mr. Shinassi is to you."
"Good," her husband answered her. "Invite him in two minutes later." Beloved, - the voice again became soft, like velvet, - I have a meeting. I disconnect, but you remember that I think of you every minute.
"Me too." She took the phone from her ear and laid it on the table.
Zehra brought tea and a lemon muffin. But Defne never had time to touch it.
From the side of the gate, steps were heard. Defne looked around. Her face reflected surprise. She did not wait for the guest who was coming to her.
"Hi," said Fikret. "Didn't expect to see me?"
"Hi," Defne replied restrainedly. "You're right, I didn't expect." What brought you here, and how did you find out the address?
Cold eyes first stared at her face, and then her eyes crawled to her stomach. Defne instinctively covered it with her hands. Fikret grinned wryly. Ignoring the first question, she answered the second:
- By chance. I saw from the window of my house, - she nodded to the neighboring site. - We are neighbors.
- Neighbors? You rented a house here," Defne asked suspiciously narrowing her eyes.
- I didn't rent it. This is my parental home. I decided to stop wandering around the world. It's time to go home.
A chill ran down Defnes's spine. Is this a mockery of fate? Fikret in the neighborhood is not the limit of her dreams. Living next to a woman who is in love with her husband. What a situation!
The sun inside her went out. The magic disappeared, and in a flash, the world turned into a gloomy and dull gray.
"Congratulations," Defne said. - It's good when there are a parental home and a place where you can always return. But what brings you to me?
"I walked by and went in to say hello," Fikret twisted her mouth. The smile looked like a grimace. - I'm going to Passionis. Maybe you need to convey something to Omer?
"Thank you, Fikret." Defne did not hide the irony. "If I need courier, I'll call Mert." I won't hold you back. Aren't you in a hurry?
"Yes, I'm in a hurry," Fikret fussily adjusted the handbag strap on her shoulder. "You know, Omer is very punctual and does not like to be kept waiting."
"Yes, I know," said Defne and stared expectantly at the uninvited guest. Fikret's eyes were running wide.
"See you," she said goodbye and headed for the exit from the courtyard.
"See you," Defne said next, and added in her head: "If my eyes had not seen you."
Without touching the tea, she carefully got up from her chair and slowly walked into the house.
In the evening, at dinner, Defne was suspiciously quiet and distracted. Omer talked about the past day, but she listened with half ear. And only when he spoke about the meetings did she stirred up and ask:
- And Fikret? Did you also have a meeting with her?
- Fikret? - Omer was surprised and, laying aside the fork, shrugged bewilderedly. - Yes, but this was not a meeting. She came in to discuss the color of one of the outfits. To beige stilettos. We talked for about ten minutes, no more and she left. Why are you asking about her?
Defne stopped chasing a leaf of salad on the plate, looked up at him, and said.
"She's our neighbor."
- Neighbor? Fikret rented a house here?
- She didn't. The neighboring estate is her parental home. She returned to live in it. - Defne grinned unhappily. - A mockery of fate, not otherwise.
"Honey," Omer reached across the table and took her hand, "did it upset you?"
Defne shook her head.
- I do not know. Yes, probably. But I understand that this is stupid...
"Do you want us to sell this house and buy another?" - suggested Omer.
Defne looked around the dining room, the living room visible behind the arched opening, the kitchen behind the counter. This is her home! The one she fell in love with at first sight. Who loved her and accepted her its mistress. How can she leave it?
- No! She objected firmly. - This is our home. Are we cowards to throw it and run away? Yes, and it would be because of whom! Just think, Fikret Galo!
"My brave girl," Omer shone with a smile and kissed her thin fingers. - You're right. This is our home! Our fortress. I will not allow anyone to enter it with bad intentions. Especially Fikret. Do you believe me?
"Like in myself," Defne replied seriously.
Omer touched her cheek and asked:
- Then smile.
She complied with his request. Her smile lit up the room with a golden light. Reflected in the glass of the windows and played flare in a jug with pomegranate juice. It warmed his heart and made it beat faster. Made Omer happy.
- That's good. Let's not let other people darken our lives.
"Very well," Defne agreed.
But a vague unease still moved deep inside. It did not leave her when they watched a movie after dinner, and when they ate ice cream, and when Omer carried her in his arms to the bedroom. And even falling asleep in his safe embrace, she felt a chill in her stomach.
At night Defne dreamed that blue eyes burning with hatred were looking at her through the window. She jerked and groaned.
"Wh-shh," Omer pulled her to him and covered her with his hands, "all is well." This is just a dream.
"Just a dream," she whispered and asked: "Hold me tight."
At the other end of Istanbul, Ahtem stood in a dark room near the window. He was looking at a neighboring house. In it, a golden light burned one single window. This light beckoned to him, promised paradise. But Ahtem knew - this paradise is an illusion that will shatter into pieces as soon as he touches it. And he will be in hell again. The second time he did not get out of it. He closed his eyes for a moment and walked away from the window. It's time to sleep.
For many kilometers, in the resort Side, Deniz fascinated Iz's parents. But somehow it turned out that he was charmed. There was so much warmth, love, and respect in this family that it warmed his heart. His everlasting ironic mockery, which was essentially a protective mask, melted among these people without a trace. He smiled openly and sincerely, addressed Iz' parents with unlimited respect, and simply enjoyed a wonderful evening in a circle of wonderful people.
When he, worried, asked the father of his beloved for her hand, he only asked his daughter:
- Do you love him?
Iz answered:
- Yes.
The man smiled and, joining their hands, said:
- Be happy. And hurry up with our grandchildren. "He looked at his wife with love. - Mom and I are waiting.
Deniz was laid in the guest room. He fell onto the bed and, closing his eyes, tоke a deep breath. The bed smelled like thyme. He smiled. Fate returned this smell to him, and with it a family ... love ... hope. Presented him Iz. And with her is the meaning of life.
***
In the morning, wrapped in a blanket, Defne sat on a chair by the window and watched Omer. He, dressed in a tracksuit, studied sports equipment. Watching him was an aesthetic pleasure. Agile, strong, he smoothly moved around the place and looked like a predator. The same supple and confident in every movement. When the turn came to the horizontal bar, he took off his sports jacket and t-shirt. Having jumped, he clung to the crossbar and began to energetically pull himself up. The autumn sun, which came out from behind the clouds, gilded the tightly stretched skin under which muscles were contracting and relaxing. Defne forgot to breathe. She just looked admiringly at the magnificent man. Her husband. She could not look away from him. And she didn't want to.
When Omer jumped from the horizontal bar to the ground and leaned over for the T-shirt, Defne was finally able to exhale. And then she touched her stomach and whispered gently:
- It seems, honey, you will have many brothers and sisters. The world must be saved.
Omer entered the house in a couple of minutes. Defne heard him deftly jumping over two steps and running upstairs. She smiled and at that moment the door opened. Omer, still without a T-shirt, burst into the room and instantly found himself beside her.
- What are we doing? - Asked and winked.
Defne blushed and stroked his cool shoulder.
"Aren't you frozen?"
"No," he kissed her nose and straightened. - Giving мy muscles a load in the fresh air is a thrill.
"Really?" Defne slyly rolled her eyes. - I remember you called something else a thrill.
Omer turned and stared at her in disbelief. Holy heavens! Defne herself spoke on a sensitive subject. He tossed his T-shirt aside and walked over to her again. He squatted down and placed his palms on the armrests. Burning her with black eyes, he replied:
"What I feel when I'm in you is more than a thrill." More than pleasure. I can't find the right word. It does not exist.
"I know," she put her arms around his head. "I'm flying with you in that moments".
They touched their foreheads and laughed softly.
"I love you," Omer said hoarsely.
Defne sighed sweetly and buried her fingers in the hair on his nape. Gently caressing them, she whispered:
"I'm so happy that sometimes I get scared."
Enjoying her touches, Omer closed his eyes and exhaled:
- Why?
"I'm afraid someone will want to ruin our life."
"Don't think about it," his hands let go of the armrests of her chair and squeezed her thin forearms. Then his palms crawled up. Stroking shoulders, delicate skin of the throat, collarbone. They went down below and opened the edges of the blanket. "I will not allow it," he kissed the soft, flat stomach, "I will not allow anyone to get into our lives and harm us."
He spoke with firm confidence but felt cold rose to his spine. He did not know its reason, but could not ignore it. Intuition has never failed him. The need to leave Defne alone in the evening in the house worried him.
"Beloved," he said again, wrapping her in a blanket. "You will be bored alone tonight." Let's call yours. Уou will talk from the heart with grandma, you will gossip with Nihan.
- A good idea! I am for it! I missed them.
"That's fine," Omer got to his feet and took the т-shirt wet from sweat. "I'm in the shower now, and then I'll make breakfast." Are you hungry already?
"Like a wolf," Defne said cheerfully.
"There is no forgiveness for me!" - Omer supported her tone. "What would you like for breakfast?"
Defne frowned thoughtfully.
- I do not even know. Come on, while you are in the shower, I will think and decide.
"Good," the husband agreed smiling. - Think and decide.
He left the room. Watching him, Defne turned to the window. Her gaze caught on the next house. For a second, it seemed to her that a shadow flickered in one of the windows of the second floor. Dark and sinister. She shook her head and drove the worry away. Omer is near, the relatives will come in the evening. Life is wonderful and there is no need to complicate it with groundless fears.
For breakfast, Defne asked for a toast with ham and cheese, tea, and cookies. Omer also added orange juice and honey.
"You need vitamins and strength," setting the tray on the table in the bedroom, he explained. - Be smart, eat everything.
"If you make me the company," Defne demanded whimsically.
"With pleasure," Omer kissed her cheek and offered a toast. - Eat! The Bead is hungry.
After breakfast, Defne called her family and invited them to visit. Topal did not need to be begged. They immediately agreed in the evening to keep the company to their precious girl. The grandmother immediately bombarded the granddaughter with questions of what her soul wants. The soul wanted pickles and milk baklava. Saying that the granddaughter was definitely waiting for a girl, Turkan said goodbye. Defne imagined her grandmother running around the kitchen now and smiled. May she was not able to share the triumph with Omer today, but her evening will still be beautiful.
Omer was supposed to appear at the site of the presentation at three. Immediately after lunch, laying Defne in bed and strictly ordering her little sleep, he went to get dressed. A white shirt with black buttons, a dark blue tuxedo, a black satin bow tie, and flawless shoes shining with a lacquered sheen. When he appeared in all his glory before Defne, she only whistled delightedly.
- You are wonderful.
"Thank you, my soul," he smiled and leaned over the bed. Kissing, in turn, both hands and laughing lips of his wife, he asked: - Be smart, walk less, lie more. Good?
"I obey, my general," Defne winked. - Do not worry, everything will be fine with me and the bead. Topal will arrive and we will have a great time.
- I will call.
"You told me to sleep."
- Oh yes, for sure! Then call me as soon as you wake up. Do not forget! Otherwise, I will go crazy with anxiety, throw the presentation to hell, and rush home.
- What more! You will be present until the end, enjoy the evening and accept well-deserved congratulations.
- Enjoy without you? I doubt it. You never answered - do you promise to call or not?
- I swear! - Defne raised her hand palm forward. - Do not be sad, sleep, to call. Is that all?
- And think of me!
"You needn't remind me this" You are always in my thoughts.
Omer kissed softly smiling lips.
- Love you.
- And I love you. Very much!
***
Work was in full swing at the site of the presentation. The younger employees of Passionis were running around the allotted dressing room with shoe boxes in their hands. Koray, as usual, was bothering fashion models. The stylist hung outfits and hastily instructed her subordinates. Sinan was checking the details and Seda helped him. Without getting involved in the general turmoil, Omer moved to the back of the hall and from there watched the preparations.
At five, Defne called and reported that everything was fine with her. She is waiting for relatives and misses her husband. She also holds her thumbs for him for luck. Although this is not needed, she is confident that the presentation will be brilliant. Omer Iplikci cannot be any different.
Omer smiled and squared his shoulders.
At half-past five the guests began to arrive. Iz and Deniz Tranba were the first to appear. They looked a little tired, but their eyes shone. "They reconciled," Omer thought and held out his hand to his friend. He shook his hand and said softly:
- Thank you. And good luck! Believe me, I want it sincerely.
"I know," Omer nodded.
The show started at six. Each new model of shoes aroused great interest among the audience. Waiters scurried between the guests, offering drinks. The musicians extracted the sounds of beautiful melodies from their instruments. And only Omer stood still in the back of the hall and watched the show with an unperturbed face. When the last of the model girls hid behind the scenes and Koray announced that the show was over, he went out the side door to the balcony. Putting his hands in his pockets, he closed his eyes and put his face to the fresh wind. The tightly twisted knot inside weakened and euphoria swelled in the blood. It worked!
He did not hear the door open behind him. The wind whistled in his ears and muffled the sounds. When a cold hand touched his neck, he jerked his whole body and looked back. A deep wrinkle lay between his eyebrows, and he exhaled irritably:
"You?"
Defne, waiting for Topal, slowly went downstairs and sat in the rocking chair that had already become a favorite chair. The time was approaching six. The presentation will start soon. She clenched her fists and prayed that everything would go well.
There was a knock on the door. Rejoicing that she would see her relatives now, she hurried to the door and opened it.
Astute eyes stared at her.
The fear that had fallen asleep in the morning returned with new force and cold crawled into her stomach.