In front of Defne was an old woman. All in black, she seemed the darkness with a female face. And that face was arrogant and strict. She silently looked at the girl and from her gaze, Defne wanted to turn and wrap herself in a warm shawl.
- Can I help you? She asked the uninvited guest.
"No," she answered.
Defne was confused. This old woman seemed increasingly strange to her. She examined her clothes. Ascetic, but expensive. The woman does not look like a beggar asking for alms.
"Then what brings you here?" She asked the next question.
- I came to say - hang up curtains on the windows.
- What? - Defne breathed dumbfounded. - Who you are?
"It doesn't matter," the old woman frowned angrily. - Just listen to my advice - hide your happiness. Put curtains on the windows.
Without saying goodbye, she turned and went to the exit from the yard. Near the gate, the strange woman ran into the Topal family. They just got out of a taxi in a noisy crowd and were about to enter the courtyard. Without greeting, she walked past them and disappeared into the darkness.
- Who is this? The intrigued Nihan asked Defne. The rest were silent but looked alarmed.
"I don't know," Defne shrugged. - Strange woman. She was talking some kind of nonsense about windows without curtains.
"Crazy," Nihan delivered her verdict. "But why did you open the door for her?"
"I thought you came." I opened and on the doorstep was she. Like a ghost. Never mind. Come into the house. I'm dying, I want to kiss you all and eat grandmother's baklava.
- Ay, my beauty! - Chattered Turkan. - She wants grandmother's baklava! Now, my sweet! But first, you eat dolma. Our baby needs the strength to grow.
- Thank you, my soul! You're the best! - Defne hugged her grandmother by the shoulders and all Topal entered the house.
***
Omer, still feeling a shiver of loathing at the touch of the cold fingers, frowned at Fikret. She didn't look good. Like a person who did not sleep for several days. A feverish fire burned in her eyes.
"Sorry, I scared you," she said.
"I am not scared," Omer stepped back a step. "I just don't like being touched by strangers."
"Does this right belong only to Defne?" To touch you? - Thin lips twisted in an eerie grimace.
It was unpleasant to look at her, but Omer did not look away. He squeezed his eyes, ordering her to keep her distance. His answer was short and harsh:
- Yes.
Fikret came almost face to face. The grimace of hatred gave way to a seductive look.
"But she cannot touch you right now, as you need." And you are a man. You need a discharge. Sex. - She reached out a palm to his stomach.
Omer intercepted her hand and disgusted, like it's a snake, push it away. Fixing Fikret with a glance, he said:
- I'm a man madly in love with his wife. Therefore, Fikret, do not even try. It is useless.
She moaned and covered her face with her hands. And when she removed them, her eyes burned with despair and pain.
"How did she get you?" Why do you love her so much? For what do people love?
- Strange questions. People don't love for some reason, Fikret. They just love.
- But why? Why do you love her, not me? She cried. "We would have been the perfect couple." The whole world would belong to us!!!
"My world is Defne," Omer said calmly and firmly. "Please, Fikret, leave us alone." Do not look for reasons to meet, do not get in front of my eyes, and do not upset Defne. I will be very grateful if you understand me and listen to my words.
Without saying goodbye, he left. Fikret clutched her hands on the cold, stone railing and bent in half.
"I can't," she whispered and cried.
In the hall, Omer was intercepted by Sinan. Beaming with a contented smile, he hit him on the shoulder with his fist and sang joyfully:
- Congratulations, my brilliant partner. You did the magic again. We are planning at least three new customers. This is not counting European contracts. We need to expand production
"Think, brother, think," Omer answered absently.
- That's the true Omer Iplikci! - Sinan was indignant. - I say - we broke the records with the presentation in Istanbul, and he is indifferent like an iceberg. - Omer only crookedly grinned. Without waiting for the desired reaction, the partner suggested: - Let's go somewhere, to celebrate the success.
- Sorry, brother. Defne is at home. I do not want her to wait and worry. Come on another time, "Omer held out his hand. - See you.
Sinan shook it and smiled slyly.
"Your dear Defne, you say?"
"My dear Defne," Omer confirmed with a soft smile and hurried to the exit.
"See you," Sinan said to his back and looked around. - So, where is my dear Seda?
***
Topal family were just about to leave and, saying goodbye to their Defne, were marking time in the hallway, as Omer returned home. He only managed to kiss the hand of grandmother, shake hands with Serdar and pat the baby Iso on the cheek. The next moment, Mom Nihan said that it was time to went home, otherwise, the son would fall asleep along the road and would be left without bathing. And this later threatens with a concert for half a night. The family hurried to fulfill the order. Nobody smiled at the night concerts of the crying baby Iso.
Closing the door behind them, Omer went to Defne and, taking her pretty face in his hands, looked into her eyes.
- How are you?
She smiled.
- I am fine. We had a wonderful time. - Defne decided not to talk about the visit of the strange old woman. After all, nothing happened, and Omer will worry. Hugging him around the waist, she led her husband into the house. - How was the presentation?
Omer sat her on the sofa and crouched beside her. Mechanically stroking the delicate skin of a thin wrist with his thumb, he answered:
"Sinan says fine."
- Sinan? Asked Defne and looked inquiringly into dark eyes. - What do you think?
Omer shrugged vaguely.
- Normal presentation. Everybody liked the collection - this is the main thing.
Omer did not look happy and satisfied with the work done, and this alarmed Defne.
"Мy dear," she touched his cheek. - Did something happen?
Omer looked into the huge, amber eyes. Insightful Defne. She feels his heart. But he will not talk about Fikret. She will be saddened, upset, but that's not good for her. He smiled and gently kissed the pink silk of her lips.
"Nothing happened, my soul." I am just tired, hungry, and missed you.
- Allah Allah! Are you tired? Hungry? What kind of wife am I?! Run to change, and I'll warm up dinner. Grandma made such dolma! Mmmm! You will lick your fingers.
- Wait! - Omer held her by the shoulders. - Where are you going? Bed rest has not yet been lifted. Sit here, I'll change clothes and warm myself dinner. I'll make you tea. With mint and lemon. Good? - Defne nodded. - My smart girl! I'm running to change clothes.
Half an hour later the Iplikci sat in the dining room. Before Omer, the famous dolma of grandma Turkan smelled appetizing. Defne stirred a spoon in a cup of golden-green tea and inhaled its fresh, minty smell. Taking a leisurely sip, she watched as her hungry husband was eating dinner. Grandma's dolma was clearly to his taste.
"What is new about yours?" Omer asked. - Serdar, it is probably difficult for him to deal with a cafe alone?
"Grandma is nursing Iso, and Nihan is helping him." And Esra on weekends too. And they also hired a girl. Aysegul. She just recently moved to our area. She has a son a little younger than Esra. But there is no husband. He abandons them and disappeared, - Defne fell silent. Omer put down the fork and watched her closely. She looked up at him, so sad that his heart sank, and asked:
"Omer, how can one abandon his child?" Not to love him. "She pressed her hands to her stomach. "The Bead is even smaller than a pea, but I love it with all my heart." I agree to give my life if only for it to be happy.
Omer covered her hands with his and answered hoarsely:
- Me too. I don't understand and I don't want to know in what's in the heads of people who abandon their children. They probably don't have hearts, souls, brains ... everything is defective. Or there is no brain at all. But don't think about it ... The Bead will be the happiest child in the world. And the most beloved.
Defne smiled through tears trembling on her eyelashes and said:
- I know.
On Sunday, Iplikci spent the whole day in bed. Defne because of the prescribed bed rest. And Omer for company. They examined on a tablet the collections of world fashion houses, precious stones, jewelry, and lively exchanged views on any issue that interested them.
Together they prepared lunch and dinner. Defne in a chair by the table, cut vegetables, mushrooms, and meat, and Omer, like a real chef, cooked at the stove and amused his precious wife with stories about his childhood and studies at the Italian Lyceum. After dinner, they watched a movie, and Defne fell asleep in the middle. Omer, fascinated after watching her for several minutes, turned off the TV and carried her to bed. She was like a kitten - warm, light, sweet. His soul was trembling from the desire to protect her from all storms and disasters. From evil people, accidents, intentional and accidental injustice. He lay down beside her, pulled her to him, and hugged her tightly. Defne tossed and turned, muttered something in a dream, and buried her nose in his chest. Her warm breath tickled his skin. Omer smiled and closed his eyes.
***
Omer and Defne looked at a dot on the ultrasound screen and smiled with stupid, gentle smiles. The dot has grown. From an oblong bead turned into a small bean. And the bean had a clear and frequent heartbeat. And that sound was more beautiful than any music.
The doctor, a gray-haired woman with an impeccable posture and a beautiful face, finished the examination, looking at the results of the tests brought by the nurse and turned to the patient and her husband.
- I am glad to inform you that everything is fine with you, your pregnancy, and your baby. The bed rest prescribed by the Italian doctor was a precaution. But there is nothing wrong with it. You rested, gained strength, and got used to the idea that you are pregnant and are now obliged to think not only about yourself but also about a new life within you. Isn't it like that?
"That's right," Defne smiled.
This week became for her a time of revelations and silent declarations of love. She realized how much she loves the bead under her heart, how much her relatives and Omer love her. And how much she loves them. To infinity. Defne realized that she was an incredibly happy person and let go of all past grievances. From her father and mother. Now she did not understand them even more, but resentment and pain were gone. Allah is their judge, and she chooses to love and care. For her family, Omer, the bead. And a happy, not darkened by black thoughts, life.
The voices of the doctor and Omer brought her out of her thoughts.
"A healthy, vitamin-rich diet, walks in the fresh air, sleep at least eight hours a day," the woman said. - No burdens and power sports. But gymnastics for pregnant women is not just needed, but necessary. I will write to you the site on the Internet. There are all sets of exercises.
"All right, doctor!" - Assured her Omer, - Defne will diligently implement all the recommendations. I will control her. What is required of me?
- Your love and care. Only this! Well, a little patience. Refrain from marital relations for another week.
Defne's cheeks flushed bright red, and the unflappable Omer continued as if they were discussing the weather and not such intimate things.
- And then, in a week? How careful should I be?
- Omer! - outraged yelled Defne.
The doctor hid a smile. And she spared the modesty of Defne. She wrote an email address on a piece of paper and handed it to the worried daddy.
"On this site, you will find the answers to all your questions, Mr. Omer," having finished the phrase, she turned to Defne: "Next time I'll be waiting for you in ten days." Remember - more joyful emotions, pleasures, and laughter. And then your baby will be happy.
- Bed rest is over - it's time to work, - sitting in the back seat of the Mercedes, Defne sighed. - Deniz probably scolds me in his mind. Just think, the presentation is coming, and the chief designer is resting.
"Tranba has Iz," Omer sat beside her and took his wife by the hand. - The presentation is her work. You made yours - drew a collection. Let others do the rest. Also, they are waiting for you.
- Who are? Defne's eyes flashed with lively curiosity.
- You will see.
Omer carefully hid a smile in his mustache. He even turned to the window so that Defne would not see it. But she didn't need to see. Narrowing her eyes, she looked at her husband's chiseled profile, turned his face with her index finger and ordered:
- Speak!
In response, he kissed the pillow of her finger and asked:
- Hold on for ten minutes. Ok?
That was hard. Almost impossible. But she smiled and nodded.
The Mercedes stopped near office buildings and Omer confidently led his wife to where Passionis had been placed. That's just in the elevator, he pressed another button. One lower than the one he pressed every morning. The booth stopped on Sheri's floor. But the signboard with a graceful orange-yellow shoe was gone, and another appeared in its place - between a scattering of sparkling diamonds there was a square, dark blue stone and blue light burned in its depths. Just below the beautiful, inky script, the name "Sapphire" proudly appeared. Defne stopped and gasped. Omer looked into her face and asked:
- What do you think? If you don't like the signboard, just say it. We will order another one.
- What are you saying? - Excitedly said Defne. - I Like it. Very much. Thank you, darling!
- Wait to thank me.
Omer took her arm and led her into the back of the office. It seemed empty and smelled of fresh paint and varnish. Defne looked around, recognizing and at the same time not recognizing her old place of work, which, ironically, became the office of her own company.
Omer led her to a familiar door with a sign on it: "Defne Iplikci. Chief Designer" and opened it.
- I thought that in your old office you would be comfortable and cozy.
Defne walked in holding her breath. Here, too, everything was changed. Old furniture has disappeared and a new one has appeared - elegantly simple and comfortable. A curved table, a leather, light brown armchair, the same color sofa and upholstery on the chairs for visitors. On the table is a laptop and a table lamp with a glass orange lampshade, on the windowsills - flowers. The blank wall was turned into shelves of glass and chromed metal. Books on mineralogy and jewelry were on the shelves.
- Do you like it? Omer asked, and she turned to him. Her eyes shone.
- Very much! How well you know me.
Omer came close and took her hands. Smiling with a sweet, affectionate smile, he kissed her on the cheek and whispered in her ear:
"I want to know you." To unravel all your secrets, to hear your thoughts...
- Aw! - Interrupting him at a glance, exclaimed Defne and scaredly rounded eyes. - No need to hear my thoughts! And if you hear, then know - I do not always agree with them!
Omer laughed. Well, how can you not love her? So cute and real. Moving away, he pulled her by the hand from the office.
- As I said - they are waiting for you!
He opened the door of the conference room and an avalanche of joyful cries and laughter fell on Defne. Everyone was here. Sinan with Seda, Iz and Deniz Tranba, Ahtem and Laura, proudly sticking out his chest Koray, a former neighbor Mirai and an unfamiliar, serious man. Defne guessed that this was the father of the girl Kumru, and henceforth also the manager of Sapphire. They respectfully stood behind the co-owners and directors of the company. Next to them were three more unfamiliar to Defne girls and а tall,curly-haired guy. Having greeted friends, Defne approached the new employees and smiled:
- Let's get acquainted. I am Defne Iplikci - the designer.
The tall guy turned out to be a logistician, one of the girls was a secretary, the second was an accountant, and the third was a lawyer. All four seemed a little constrained but smiled kindly and respectfully answered Defne's questions.
Tranba opened a bottle of champagne and poured the golden-glittering drink in the glasses.
"For the prosperity of Sapphire," he proposed a toast and the people buzzed encouragingly.
When the glasses were empty, the manager looked at his subordinates and strictly ordered:
- Let's got to work!
Following them, the co-owners of the company also went about their business. Omer kissing his wife on the cheek and whispered that he would come back by lunch and take her to a cafe.
Defne was left alone. She returned to her office, went to the window, and smiled at Istanbul and the whole world. In Sapphire, the first working day began, and she has a new round of life.
***
Laura stopped at the reception desk. The secretary, a girl whose name was rare, not Turkish, Alina, looked at the lady with a silent question. The boss gestured that she could continue to do her work and fixed her eyes on the men and the girl at the exit. Omer and Ahtem were discussing something vividly. Defne listened carefully to them. After waiting a minute, Laura went up to them. Smiling warmly at Omer and Defne, she turned to the second man:
"Ahtem, can you come into my office?" We need to discuss the list of materials for making the collection. It's time to decide on suppliers of metals and stones.
The man nodded reserved but did not have time to answer. Omer ahead of him said:
- The supplier is already here. Moreover, the best.
"And who is he?" - asked Ahtem and Laura at the same time, and Defne only looked inquiringly.
- Diamond Corporation.
All three raised eyebrows in surprise.
- Diamond? The one in the Emirates? Asked Laura. - But how? It is almost impossible for a start-up company to conclude a contract with them. They only work with the big sharks in jewelry.
"I tried to do this for two years and to no avail," Ahtem supported the girl.
"The same Diamond?" - Defne breathed.
Omer's lips twitched in a subtle smile.
"The owner of the corporation, Ahad Shahir, asked me to draw and make exclusive wedding shoes for his bride," he replied. - I agreed, but with the condition - Diamond signs a long-term contract with Sapphire for the supply of precious metals and stones.
"And you were silent?" - Defne was indignant.
"I did not want to talk until Mr. Shahir approved the sketch and confirmed his readiness to sign a contract," Omer explained. - On Friday, I sent him a picture with a detailed description by email, and this morning I received an answer. He and his bride liked the shoes, and he asks to make them as soon as possible, as well as send for approval our version of the contract. Since you, he turned to Ahtem and Laura, are specialists in the field in jewels, then it is up to you to deal with them.
Defne looked at her husband with admiration. Almighty! Is there a limit to his genius and insight? He glanced at her and winked. She smiled back and from her smile, the invisible violins in Omer's chest began to play а Rossini's melody.
Ahtem and Laura exchanged glances.
"I think we should not waste time," she said. - Let's go to my office.
He nodded silently.
In the two hours that they worked diligently on the contract and specializing in it, not one violated the tacit agreement and did not talk about the personal. Only the furtive glances radiated longing and endless, piercing sadness.
***
Giving life to the new company turned up to be troublesome. Defne, although she refused managerial functions, could not completely get rid of them. Seda, Laura, Mr. Kartal, Mirai - all were coming to her. And she listened, understood, made decisions. She consulted with Omer and Sinan, she learned to fight back, and say no to too persistent vultures who dream of drowning a new company. But Defne was not afraid. After all, Omer stood behind her. He's like a rock. Like a hawk zealously guarding his nest.Ready to tear to pieces anyone who tries to harm his wife.
But no matter how many problems the work presented, Iplikci, returning home, left them outside the threshold. Inside were happy and laughing lovers. They loved without looking back and openly enjoyed each other and life. They cooked dinner together, fooled around, danced, and laughed till pain in their stomach. They ate ice cream. They talked with the Bead. Together, at one table, they drеw sketches. Omer was learning from Defne to understand what a woman wants, and Defne from Omer - what a man wants to see in a woman. And this knowledge was reflected in the sketches, turning dreams into reality. At night they fell asleep, hugging each other tightly, and even in a dream, Defne felt Omer's palm on her stomach. Asleep, he continued to guard his treasure.
The only thing the happy Iplikci couple had forgotten about was closing the curtains on the windows.
Spying on other people's happiness became a painful need for Fikret. The doves in love were so careless that they did not lock their massive gate. She discovered this by accident. One evening, wandering through the dark streets, she came up and hold the old brass lock. It succumbed, and the gate opened. Fikret, looking around like a thief, entered the courtyard. In one of the windows of the first floor, the light was on.
She came closer and looked inside. It was an office. Omer and Defne sat at the oak table and painted. Golden warm light enveloped the room. Male and female figures seemed to bathe in it.
It was damp and cold outside. Fikret shivered and insanely wanted warmth. A warm in the heart and never again, never to feel inside the ice block, which from birth was her life. At that moment, behind the window, Defne looked at Omer's drawing and said something. Probably a joke. Because he laughed and reached for her lips. He hugged and pressed her head to his chest. Such tenderness was reflected in his eyes that Fikret gasped in pain and, in order not to scream, stuck her fist into her mouth.
From that evening, as soon as it was getting dark on the street, she silently was slipping out through the back door and was going to the neighboring house. She was staying at the window in which the light was burning and watched. Sometimes it went out and lit in another window, and she hurried to it as if bewitched. She was seeing life, beautiful and happy. Saw kisses and hugs. Gentle, full of love, glances, and reverent touch. They burned her soul with hellish fire and at the same time made her frantically desire such a life. Such tenderness. Such love. To only her ... only for her ... only to breathe with her alone ... to live.
And she began to imagine that it was she, and not Defne, who was touching Omer's neck. But he does not shudder disgusted but catches her hand, kisses, and then swiftly bends and passes his fingers along her ribs. That she laughs now and fights off tickling. She jumps out of the couch and runs away. It is Omer who catches up with her and, pressing to the wall, kisses her lips, cheekbone, neck... hot ... and then picks her up in his arms and whirls around the room with her.
At times, this invented world became so tangible that it seemed real. And then she was returning home and the reality returned. With it came hatred. To everyone and everything. To this cold house. To the golden light in the windows of the neighboring. To damp cold November. To the not loving her Omer. And especially to Defne. She felt an unstoppable need to break her warm, happy world. To destroy her life. To wipe the radiant smile from her face and make her suffer.
In Iplikci's house, the lights went out. Fikret stood for several minutes on the balcony of their room and then went quietly down the side stairs to the street. Her hands clung to the cold metal of openwork wrought iron railings and went numb from the tension that bound her. Each time, she was horrified to be afraid that they would notice her, but she could no longer refuse these nightly observations. This has become an obsession and maniacal need.
The gate behind her closed silently. She went to her house and inaudibly slipped inside through the back door. Hanging on a hook in the far corner of the kitchen her old jacket, she gropingly went to the stairs to the second floor.
- Where have you been? - The question sounded like a shot and made Fikret flinch.
A light came on in the lobby. She looked around. Her grandmother sat in an old throne-like armchair and looked at her with a steady, piercing to the bones look.
"To breath air," Fikret answered, and was about to continue her way, but the old woman imperiously ordered:
- Wait! Come to me.
She did not argue. Silently she came and stopped in front of her.
"Why are you doing this with your life, Fikret?" - The grandmother asked and this question angered Fikret.
"Are you asking this?" She hissed through gritted teeth. "You and my father have not worried for me or my life for twenty-five years." And now you ask, what am I doing with it?!
- We took care of you! - The old woman raised her voice.
- You fed me and clothed me. - Fikret asked mockingly. - And love? What about love? - She leaned over and looked into her eyes. - Tell me why you did not love me?
The grandma got up from her chair and straightened up.
- Why? You killed her! My daughter! If not for you, she would be alive!
"But am I to blame for this ?!" Cried Fikret. - I didn't ask her to give birth to me! Why don't you blame my father for the fact that knowing about her illness, he made my mother pregnant ?!
- Because he repented of this all his life! And loved her to the last minute! Why do you think he did not get married anymore? Because he could not! He was faithful to Melissa until the end of his days.
The anger of Fikret has dried up. She hunched over and whispered bitterly:
"He just could not love her daughter ... and his." Like you, the child of your adored daughter. - Fikret turned away and, heading for the stairs, threw over her shoulder: - Good night, grandmother...
The phrase stopped her:
- She's pregnant.
Fikret turned to her and, feeling cold in her heart, asked:
- Who?
The old woman nodded toward Iplikci's house.
- Our new neighbor.
Fikret's soul fell into the heels.
- How do you know?
"I saw her." She has the look of a woman who carries life in herself.
- I do not care.
Fikret turned away and resolutely went to her room.
"Your mother had the same gaze...," the old woman whispered to her.
***
Defne and Omer had breakfast in their cozy and, regardless of the weather outside, sunny dining room. Although today the sun has mercy on Istanbul and generously, not at all like in November, endowed the city with its gentle rays. They played on golden floor tiles and, with sun-bunnies, shone on the sideboard glasses. They kissed the oranges on the table and hid among pomegranate seeds. Sparkled on the round black olives and like live amber shone through the honey in the glass bowl.
Defne put a plate of hot pancakes on the table and sat in her place. Omer was already stirring sugar in her tea. Moving the cup towards her, he put a pancake on her plate and poured honey on it. He added a couple of semicircles of oranges and generously sprinkled pomegranate seeds. He poured grape juice into a glass and ordered:
- Eat it. Today will be a difficult day. You need to stock up on strength.
"You're right," Defne agreed and cut off a piece of pancake. "I'm so worried." Filming for a magazine is not a walk by the sea. What if the girls get tired and feel worse?
"Honey," Omer touched her cheek and smiled encouragingly. "We did our best to prevent this from happening."
Defne smiled.
- I know. But there is still Koray. I worry.
- No, my soul. Do not worry. Believe me. I will be able to put him in place if he will delay the shooting.
"If he calls one of the girls ugly or begins to criticize her appearance, I will pull out his hair," Defne said belligerently.
Omer imagined this scene and smiled. And then he assured his wife:
- I am sure that this will not happen.
"I hope so," she answered.
When the plates were empty and tea and coffee were drunk, Omer took Defne's hand and, looking into her eyes, asked:
"Please, dear, do not overdo it today." Remember about yourself and the bead. Passionis, Sapphire, and Tamba have enough staff to carry out all the routine work. And you just watch and morally support the girls. Do you agree?
Defne nodded her eyes shut and set her lips for a kiss. They smelled of honey and tasted the same - sweet and heady. Omer kissed them slowly and for a long time until his head was spinning and liquid fire ran through his veins.
Three days remained before the end of their abstinence.
***
Near the entrance to the pavilion, where the shooting for the magazine was to take place, Omer stopped his wife and, taking both her hands in his looked into hеr eyes.
"Beloved, do you remember what you promised me this morning?"
"From the first to the last word," Defne assured him and asked: "My love, calmly do your work, and don't worry about me." I am a big, responsible girl, and I am interested in everything being in order with me and the Bead.
Omer broke into a smile and grabbed his wife's arm.
- Well, then, a responsible girl, let's do business.
The first thing that Defne noticed when she went inside was that the pavilion was warm and work was in full swing. Koray, as the conductor of the orchestra, led the process. Workers setting out the decors, fixing the lights. A curly hair assistant, whose name she always forgot, was preparing the equipment. Feryal meticulously examined the place of shooting and, judging by the expression on her face, was pleased with what she saw.
Behind the movable screens installed at the end of the pavilion, makeup artists worked with the girls. Fikret and another clothing designer spun right there. They sorted out the outfits and combined them with shoes into sets. Fikret, seeing Omer stuck her eyes to him, but, recollecting herself, turned away and frantically continued her work.
Defne first approached the girls. Having greeted and kissed each, she sincerely declared that she saw before herself the most beautiful models in the world. Those happy with her praise laughed. Despite their pallor and thinness, they looked lively and happy. Eyes shone, and their smiles could illuminate the planet. Even the doomed sadness in the eyes became softer.
There was no scarf on Nisa's head. Her slightly grown thick, red hair curled in ringlets. The sun shone through them, and her golden head on a thin neck seemed touching and looked like a dandelion. Kumru and Dila ruffled her soft curls, and Nisa promised them that in less than a month, the same ones would appear on their heads. Only different color than hers. And they will never, never again wear scarfs. Even in old age.
Defne's eyes filled with tears.
How petty are all the problems and resentments before this desire - never again, even in old age, to wear a scarf!
Kumru's father approached the girls. Having greeted Defne, he, carefully concealing his anxiety, glanced at his daughter. After making sure that everything was fine with her, the man wished everyone easy work and asked the lady boss to give him a couple of minutes. Defne nodded and followed him.
When the girls were out of earshot, they stopped.
"I'm listening to you, Mr. Kartal," Defne turned to him.
"Madam Defne, I will have a request for you." I need to return to Sapphire. They should bring furniture for the offices of ordinary employees and office equipment. But I am very worried about Kumru. Look after her, please, so that she does not overwork.
"Rely on me," Defne smiled at him. "I promise to circle next to the girls like a mother hen." By the way, a bird brought to me the news that donors for Kumru and Dila were found. Immediately after the charity evening, they will begin to prepare for the operation.
The man's lips twitched and his eyes filled with tears. He bravely restrained them. He swallowed a lump and when the voice again became obedient to his will, he answered:
- Yes. Yesterday, the doctor told me ... I pray for their recovery.
Defne gently touched his hand.
- I also. Go to Sapphire and don't worry about anything. Kumru will be all right.
- Thank you.
Mr. Kartal has left. Ahtem soon appeared. He brought the jewelry he had made according to Defne's sketches. Fastening thin chains on girls' necks and adjusting elegant pendants, necklaces, bracelets and earrings, Defne cooed:
"You, my beauties, are the first to wear our creations with Ahtem." And now I see how beautiful they are. You breathed life into them. I am so proud!
- By whom, by yourselves or by us? - Kumru joked fervently.
- By everyone! - Defne replied cheerfully.
Omer watched from the side his wife and the fragile birds next to her. They were so sweet, funny, touching, that, looking at them, he forgot what kind of illness tormented their young bodies and how much strength each needed to fight it every minute. And then he remembered, and his face was clouded. Although he was sure that the girls will cope and get out of the abyss, there was another circumstance. He knew very well - these girls are not the only ones who have cancer and live in the hope of a miracle. And often this miracle has a very mundane name - money. Money for donor bone marrow. Money for expensive surgery and medicine. Money for rehabilitation. Money ... money ... money ... of which there is none.
How scary when there is no money for hope.
- Omer! He shuddered at the sound of a soft, deep voice. Laura was walking towards him. A triumphant smile shone on her face. "I just got a call from Diamond." Management approved and signed our contract. On Monday we can submit the first application.
- Is it ready? - Omer, even though fanfares sang in his chest, remained calm and cool.
- Yes, for metals, but not for stones. But I'll talk to Ahtem now. "Laura squinted in his direction and Omer saw bitterness flare-up in her gaze and hide behind her eyelashes. - We will work on the weekend and Monday an application with a detailed description of the quantity, size, and quality of precious stones will be ready.
"Good," he nodded. - Easy work for you.
Koray announced loudly that everything was ready for filming. Defne winked at the girls and pushed them forward. They went to the pavilion and were in front of the eyes of the great photographer Sargin. He was silent. Narrowing his eyes and pressing his finger to his lips, he walked in circles for a long time and examined the girls gracefully dressed in flying chiffon dresses. And then he exclaimed:
- Allah, you have heard me! Finally beauties! And-and-and! How tired I am of filming freaks with wide wrists and fat necks. Can the camera fall in love with them? - He grabbed all three with his big hands and led them to the scenery. However, his mouth did not close. - The camera loves tender models, airy, with necks-stems and flower-like heads, - He began to put the girls in the right poses and at the same time he said: - So, my soul, put your hand on your knee ... oh, what graceful fingers! And you, dandelion, turn your head like this ... Yes! You are a born model! - He picked up the camera and began circling the lovely trinity. - Yes! I'm a genius! This photoshoot will conquer Turkey and the world! My birds, you will be invited by all the fashion houses of Europe! You will become the most famous and wealthiest!
All around froze with open mouths and only Omer stood apart and hiding a sly smile.
"Did you have a conversation with Koray?"
His smile widened. Without looking, he drew Defne to himself, and for one short moment pressed his cheek to her hаir.
"I just told him their story." And he made all the conclusions himself.
"You are the best person in the world," Defne answered in a hoarse from pent-up tears voice.
"After you," he said hoarsely.
Fikret was doing what became the meaning of her life in the last two weeks - peeping. Again, demons howled and growled in her soul. They demanded blood. The blood of Defne. Her resentment, her pain. Untill the happiness that shines in her eyes fades away and be replaced by bitterness.
During the break, when the girls went to rest and drink tea, and the film crew briskly began to change the scenery, Fikret went to Defne. She stood by the window and looked at her husband. He was at the other end of the pavilion. He talked about something with Sinan and smiled with his wry maddening smile. Defne's eyes shone with admiration and love. Fikret caught herself thinking that she understood her. How can you not admire him? Not to love him? Such a beautiful, magnificent ... perfect.
- Do you like him? - She asked the happy rival.
"But don't I have the right?" She replied boldly.
"Well, why?" You have. Like all women here.
"But not all the women present are Omer's wives," Defne reminded her mockingly, raising an eyebrow.
- You're right. The wife is one thing. But those with whom Omer spent the nights are many. I'm sure еven here there are some.
Defne turned pale. Fikret felt wild joy and satisfaction. For you, beloved wife! Feel how painful it is! Leaning slightly and not taking her burning gaze from Omer, she said:
"He can be as funny as a boy." He does not at all look like an iceberg, which everyone around him considers. And is afraid of tickling on the neck...
Defne's heart fluttered and fell like a stone.