- Emine? Omer asked with a hoarse voice. - Do you really want to call her Emine?
"Yes," Defne replied.
A piece of wood crackled in the fireplace, and a sheaf of sparks that flew into the chimney was reflected in her eyes in soft light. Omer caught her eye and tried to figure out what was hidden in the amber depth. Joy intertwined with anxiety inside. He pressed his hand tighter to her belly and asked:
- But why?
- Because that was your mother's name. It was she who gave your life and raised you so wonderfully. It's fair if the granddaughter will bear her name.
- But my mother had a tragic fate. Aren't you afraid...
- No, - Defne didn't let him finish the sentence. Looking up, she said, "I'm not afraid. She won't let anything bad happen to your daughter. Will be her invisible guardian angel. I know."
She knows ... And she talks about it so simple. Omer had a lump in his throat, and fog clouded his eyes. Little Emine. Precious crumb. He will call her by name, and invisibly feel the presence of his mother...
His throat ached, and his voice did not obey, the words flew from his lips intermittently and hoarsely. But he could not help but say...
- I think ... no, I know for sure - it was she who brought you to me ... or me to you...
Defne heard a tremor in his voice and rose abruptly, kneeling beside him. Putting her hands around his face, she kissed him and pressed her forehead to his.
"She loved you more than anyone else in the world," she whispered. - And me too...
Emotions got out of control and cramped his chest. Omer wanted to tell Defne how he felt, but all the words were so insignificant and stupid. He silently embraced her and kissed her temple.
Defnе didn't need words to understand his feelings. She heard them in his ragged breathing, felt them in the hot palms that stroked her back. She saw them in his eyes. And she knew that their baby would be daddy's favorite daughter. Most beloved.
Omer bent down, pulled up Defne's sweater and, touching her belly with his lips, said tenderly:
- Hello, Emine!
***
It seemed to Defne that her life had become a high-speed train, which rushes at full steam through the days and weeks. The official opening of Sapphire loomed ahead, and the company carefully prepared for this event. To help Ahtem, two more jewelers were hired, who turned out to be talented guys and professionals in their field. Defne's works turned from sketches into jewelry of incredible beauty. In addition to the collection, Ahtem was also engaged in the necklace of Farah Sarafoglu, and Defne often had to visit his workshop. They carefully checked each curl of the pattern on red gold with photographs and the surviving jewels. A couple of times, Burak Sarafoglu himself came to their meetings and, having examined the work, nodded his head in satisfaction. The necklace turned out to be an exact copy of the lost one, and he was looking forward to when he could show it to his wife.
Laura's stitches were removed. The wound healed quickly and hardly bothered her. With difficulty, but Ahtem agreed that the bride was quite capable of returning to work. They set a wedding day and even took special permission, but so far they were silent about it. Even to Omer and Defne said nothing.
"Let it be a surprise," Ahtem said smiling, and Laura agreed.
They decided to make the wedding modest. Both, having gone through hell and with all their souls understanding what is the most important thing in life, did not want luxury and pomp. When discussing the list of guests, Laura ventured to ask about Ahtem's family. From the past, she knew that he was the only child of his parents, and they wanted their son to return to his native Crimea after education. But for some reason, he chose Istanbul, and for all the time after the reconciliation, he never mentioned them. He talked about everything in the world, but not about his parents. She did not know how they would perceive the marriage of their son to a foreign woman, and besides, a Catholic, but she believed that it was imperative to invite them to the wedding. And therefore, looking Ahtem in the eyes, she cautiously asked:
- And your parents? Have you already informed them about the wedding?
His face darkened. He shook his head and replied:
- There is no one to tell. Father and mother died shortly after we parted with you. They fell into an abyss. They drove along a mountain serpentine at night ... together ... no one knows what happened. Dad was a very good driver and knew this road very well. Why he lost control, I still cannot understand...
Tears glistened in Laura's eyes.
"I didn't know," she whispered and put her arms around his shoulders. Her fingers gently stroked his hair on the back of his head, and these touches healed old wounds. Ahtem closed his eyes and continued the story:
- After the funeral, I had no reason to stay in Crimea. I didn't want to. I sold everything ... the house, the family business ... and came here. To Istanbul. With the money raised, I opened a workshop, rented an apartment ... Omer helped me a lot then. After all, he also experienced a similar tragedy and understood how I felt.
"My poor one," Laura whispered. - How much did you have to go through...
"Both of us," Ahtem corrected her and looked into eyes sparkling with tears. "We both went through trials and loneliness.
- And we deserve happiness?
- We deserve it.
After this conversation, the feeling of unity became even stronger. Both understood that in the whole world they no longer have a single soul mate, except for each other. The past has finally gone aside. No, it was not forgotten, but it no longer had power over them. Trust became absolute, the love deeper. Both knew - their feelings are forever and the time has come to build their own, common life.
Iz and Deniz were getting ready for the wedding. As Deniz wanted, it was scheduled for December 20th. Iz resigned herself but demanded the most beautiful dress. It was for it that they flew to Paris for a couple of days. The dress was bought quickly. Fortunately, the bride knew the French fashion world well and immediately went to the desired boutique. Alone. Deniz was ordered to sit at the hotel and wait. At first, he was indignant, but Iz enlightened that, according to European beliefs, the groom should not see the bride's outfit before the wedding. This brings misfortune.
Mumbling for decency that they are Turks, not Europeans, he nevertheless agreed and remained to wait for her at the hotel. She returned a few hours later radiant and happy. Declaring that she had chosen a stunning dress more beautiful than which Istanbul had never seen before, she pulled Deniz to walk around Paris. To her Paris. It was different from the favorite tourist routes. But it was on these carelessly bohemian streets that Deniz saw the real soul of the city. And he really loved it.
Just wait, - Iz chirped. - I'll take you to Marseille also. This is where the real soul of France lives.
Deniz smiled broadly in return and kissed the insolently curved lips. He was ready to go even to the ends of the world, if only with her.
Sinan and Seda had the best days of their lives. Nisa was in stable remission. From a painfully pale and haggard girl, she turned into a young beauty with thick red curls, delicate blush, and shining eyes. She returned to school again and worked hard to prepare for her final exams. Seda, who for the first time in many years felt calm and free, threw herself headlong into love. She lived it openly and greedily. Flying in the clouds Sinan demanded a wedding, and she agreed. Taking with him heavy artillery in the person of Omer and Defne, he came to Mrs. Meryem with a silver tray in his hands. The deeply moved woman burst into tears and gave her blessing.
Nisa cut the red ribbon connecting the rings, and Seda and Sinan truly became the bride and groom. They decided to make the wedding in April. And on New Year's holidays, Sinan invited the Berensel family to visit his parents in Switzerland. Mrs. Meryem was frightened, Seda was surprised, and Nisa was delighted. And all three of them agreed.
Having heard about the trip, Omer informed his partner that he and Defne were also leaving the country for the New Year holidays.
- And who will we leave in Passionis for control? - asked the discouraged Sinan.
- Maybe Koray? He's also a co-owner, Defne suggested.
- Nooo! - The bosses shouted in one voice.
- Do you want Passionis to be dead before our return? - Omer chided her. - He will drive all the workers crazy, and they will run away!
- And if not? - Seda supported her friend. - It's just your guess.
"Based on experience." Sinan raised his index finger.
- More precisely on the bias, - Seda did not back down. - Remember Milan, and how Koray found a common language with Derya. But everyone thought that he could not stand her.
"You're right," Omer scratched the back of his head in puzzlement. - Okay. We have ten more days. Let's think about it.
- And where are we going? - Defne asked when she and Omer returned home.
"To Bora Bora," he replied.
- For a long time?
- For a week.
- Have you already planned and thought everything out?
Omer stopped in the middle of the flight of stairs and took her by the shoulders. Looking into mocking eyes, winked and said:
- Yes. Tickets are booked, the hotel is booked. All you need to do is buy yourself a pareo, a big hat, and some bikinis.
- Bikini? She asked, and her eyes widened in amazement. - A one-piece swimsuit will not be enough?
- No, - Omer shook his head.
- Are you sure?
- I am sure, - he kissed her on the nose and asked: - Do not be stubborn and please me.
Defne sighed, but listened to his request. The next day she went to the store and bought everything he asked for and more. If her husband booked a vacation on one of the most beautiful islands, then she must be dressed appropriately.
A week before the opening of Sapphire, Ahtem called and said that the necklace was ready. Defne left all her work and went to the workshop.
She considered the necklace for a long time. Ahtem was rightly considered the best jeweler in Istanbul. The work was done flawlessly. Also, he had cleaned the earrings and the ring, they had gained shine and the whole set looked complete.
"Shall we inform Sarafoglu?" Ahtem asked, and Defne nodded confidently.
The man arrived half an hour later. His hands trembled noticeably as he picked up the necklace.
"Yes," he said, looking at it. - Identical copy. Thank you! He looked at Ahtem and then at Defne."How can I thank you?"
- If the necklace helps to restore the memory of your wife, it will be the best gratitude, - Defne answered. - We are waiting for you with Mrs. Farah on Saturday at the reception on the occasion of the opening of our company.
- We will definitely come, - promised Sarafoglu and hurried to say goodbye.
He was in a hurry to see his wife. The car rushed like an arrow through Istanbul, but the man still urged on the driver:
- Faster, Hussein, faster!
Before his Hummer stopped in the driveway, he jumped out of it and rushed into the house.
- Farah!!! He called, stopping in the middle of the huge hall.
The maid looked at his voice.
"The lady is in the greenhouse," she informed the boss quietly.
- Thank you, Julia, - he answered and with a sweeping step went to the greenhouse.
Farah was watering the orchids. She was putting pots of wildly flowering plants in a plastic tray filled with water and watched with a smile as the gray roots turned bright green. She did not see her husband, and he quietly stopped at the door. Burak admired her exquisite profile and the soft smile on her full, beautiful lips.
"Darling," he called softly, and she looked around. His heart sank with pain. So it was every time he saw such a wary and alien look of hers.
"You came back early," she said distantly.
"I went to the jeweler's and took your jewelry.
Burak handed her a black velvet case. Farah took it and opened it.
"The jewelry looks like new," she said with a smile.
Taking out the ring, she put it on the middle finger of her right hand. After admiring the intricate pattern, she took the earrings and put them into her ears. Without breathing, Burak opened and handed her the second case. The necklace gleamed softly in the winter sun penetrating through the glass roof.
"How beautiful," Farah whispered and took it in her hands. Burak froze. His heart beat like a drum in his chest. He did not look away from her beloved face. Farah raised her eyes to him and rebuked: - And you didn't say that this set of jewelry also has a necklace.
A black wave of disappointment flooded his chest.
Did not work out.
And he hoped so!
But the miracle did not happen. Taking a deep breath, he smiled affectionately at his wife and replied:
- Sorry. It happened. Somehow there was no reason for you to wear it...
- Has it appeared now? - Farah's eyes lit up with curiosity.
- Yes. We were invited to a reception on the occasion of the opening of a jewelry company. One of the co-owners is the same designer, the author of the necklace, which I bought for you at a charity auction.
"You said that her name was Defne Iplikci," Farah recalled, and Burak bitterly thought that more than anything in the world he wants her to remember not the name of an unknown woman, but their happy life before that damned explosion. But the memory that was hidden in the bins of consciousness stubbornly did not want to return. Farah frowned. - Will my appearance at the reception be correct? I may not recognize someone from old acquaintances and put you in an awkward position.
- I don't care, - Burak answered. - Stop being afraid and hiding. We're going to the opening of Sapphire. You will wear an evening dress and this necklace. Let everyone see that the beautiful Mrs. Farah Sarafoglu is living life to the fullest.
"Okay," she agreed and smiled a detached, duty smile.
Leaving his wife in the greenhouse, Burak went to the office. There, closing the door with a key, groaned, and put his head in his hands. How bitter it is when hopes are empty.
Pulling himself together, he called Defne Iplikci. She answered immediately. Putting aside the polite "I'm listening", she immediately asked:
- Did it happen?
"No," he replied.
Defne was silent for a moment. Burak heard a sigh of disappointment. And then Defne spoke:
- Mr. Burak, I understand how upset and broken you are now. But look at the situation in a different way. Your wife is alive and well. Many are not given even this. Even if she doesn't remember, she still loves you. Do not despair. Dawn always comes after a dark night.
- Thank you, Mrs. Defne! You are a wonderful person. And although my hopes were not justified, I am grateful to you for the work done. Farah and I will be at the opening of Sapphire, and I will introduce you to her!
- I will be glad, - Defne answered sincerely.
- All the best. See you, - said Burak Sarafoglu goodbye.
- See you later.
Defne put her phone in her purse and raised her frustrated face to Omer.
- Was that Sarafoglu? - he asked. Defne nodded silently. - As I understand it, the idea was not crowned with success?
- You understand correctly, - she answered sadly and took his arm.
They walked slowly along the embankment. After the stuffy office, Defne wanted to walk and get some fresh air. For Omer, every request she made was a guide to action. He ordered Sukru to stop at the Bosphorus and took his wife to the water's edge paved with granite slabs. It was at that moment that her phone rang.
The call upset her. His kind-hearted Defne perceived someone else's pain as his own. So it was before and now remains unchanged. She always had compassion sincerely and with all her soul. And Omer wanted her not to be sad so that she was always contented and happy. So he stopped, took her by the shoulders, and looked into her eyes.
- Darling, do not take it to heart. Sarafoglu's idea was utopian, and he understood it. You and Ahtem did an excellent job and it is not your fault that it did not work the way Mr. Burak wanted. Plus, it's not the end of the world. If not a necklace, then something else will become an impetus and one fine moment will return Mrs. Farah's memory.
- How well you speak, - Defne pressed her cheek to his chest and hugged his waist. - I would listen to you forever.
Omer put his chin on top of her head and hid the slim figure in his arms.
"Let's stand for a little while," he said hoarsely. - Let the Bosphorus take away all our sad thoughts.
"Let it take them," Defne agreed.
Embracing, they stood on the embankment wrapped in the evening mist and were silent. They breathed the salty sea air and enjoyed the closeness of each other. But the icy wind from the strait forced Omer to release his arms and pull Defne by the hand towards the car.
- Let's go faster. You cannot freeze and get sick.
Defne smiled and followed her husband. Omer's concern was more warming than the fire in the fireplace. It made her soul warm, and this is much more important than the body.
Six days were left before the opening of the new company. The jewelry collection was ready and it was time for a photoshoot for the catalog. The photographer, naturally, was Koray. And here the quite expected conflict happened. The ingenious Sargin rejected all models.
- What is this? - He shouted at the meeting with two fingers holding a photo of another girl by the corner and shaking it in the air. - Have you seen her skin? Yellow as wax! No makeup and photoshop can fix it! And this? - He threw away the photograph and grabbed the second from the folder. - Have you looked at her face? She's ugly with a flat nose! And this! - In his hands was the third photo. "She has thick wrists and fingers like sausages. And you want me, me, the famous Koray Sargin to shoot these poor people? Never!!! Never!!! Not in this life!!! Don't even think about it!!!
With every phrase, Koray went into a rage and those present began to worry about their eardrums and his vocal cords. Carefully touching her ear with her finger, Seda took out another photo from the folder and addressed him in a conciliatory tone:
- And this girl? Look, the skin is good and the nose is not flat. And her hands are all right.
- Who?! He cried. - This empty-headed Merve? Look into her eyes! There are only dollars, dollars!!! No thoughts, no feelings! Is it possible to demonstrate masterpieces with such eyes? You want me! Me! Koray Sargin to become a laughing stock for all Turkey?! To say that I only have to shoot graduates?!
"Graduates also need quality photographs," Seda muttered. And then she regretted it. Koray's mouth turned into a machine gun, spitting phrases at a rate of five words per second.
- What?!!! Me?! I, Koray Sargin, to take pictures of graduates?! Yes, they beg me to make a portfolio of all the top models! Even Tarkan himself wanted me to shoot him for Hello! Even...
- Stop, stop, stop! - Omer interrupted his tirade and raised his hands, palms forward. - Well, we understand. These models are not suitable. Tell me who do you want?
The anger on Koray's face was instantly replaced by a satisfied smile. Pursing his lips pretentiously and throwing his head back, he looked meaningfully at Omer, then at Defne and said:
- I have a bad heart! - cried Koray grabbing the left side of his chest.
- I've heard it already! Twice! Defne confirmed her words with a suitable gesture. The index and middle fingers on her hand were snapped together like scissors. - I won't fall for this trick again. Koray, look for models among those who beg you to make a portfolio!
- Heartless! Who to look for? All ugly! - Seeing that Defne does not respond to his cry, he changed tactics and leaned towards her with a flattering smile. -The masterpieces are yours! Or do you want the fool Merve to ditch them with her insipid face?
"Koray, wait," Omer stopped him and turned to his wife: "Defne, but this is not a bad idea. Who, if not the author presents his work. After all, only you know the meaning that you put into them. The feelings that you experienced while drawing them are also yours. And your beauty is simply created to be emphasized by jewelry.
"Your hair, your porcelain skin," Koray said flatteringly. - And those thin wrists, graceful fingers, graceful neck...
Omer slowly turned his head and gave the photographer a warning look. He prudently shut up.
"Defne, Omer and Koray are right," Laura said. - You are the most ideal model to present the collection. Moreover, at the opening, we decided to do without a fashion show. All jewelry will be on special, glass-covered showcases, and on the walls, there will be photos where these jewelry adorn a beautiful woman.
"Then not a woman, but women," Defne said. - Ahtem, making jewelry, put his soul into them, - she looked inquiringly at the man and he, in agreement, nodded, closing his eyes. Defne's voice sounded more confident. - And his soul is you. I will agree to become a model only if you agree to do it.
Тhere was a deafening silence in the office. Everyone sat with bated breath and looked at Laura. She looked at Ahtem. He smiled at her with a soft, wise smile. She took a deep breath and replied:
- I agree.
Koray clapped his hands and joyfully declared:
- Bomb! This photoshoot will blow up Istanbul! My name will be in all magazines and broadcasts! No, of course, I'm already famous, but this time I ...
- Koray !!! - Omer and Sinan cried in one voice.
He pulled his head into his shoulders and hissed at them:
- Off! Bores.
Defne complained to Omer all the way home and whined that no one considered her desires and that tomorrow would be a real nightmare. He tried to reasonably explain that this was not so, that they were only giving arguments, but she made the decision. And at the same time, she not only decided but also incited Laura on an adventure. But Defne categorically refused to hear logical arguments. She felt sorry for herself, scolded Koray, and sulked at her husband, who was never wrong and was always right. Omer decided to shut up and let her let off steam and calm down. But Defne had no intention of doing this.
- No, well, how can I explain tomorrow morning to the modeling agency, with which there is already an agreement, that the photo session will take place without their participation? She lamented.
- I'll call and talk. Don't worry," Omer reassured her.
- And Seda? - Defne covered her mouth with her hand in horror. - Allah! She was offended that I did not invite her to participate in the photo session too.
- Defne, calm down, - the husband asked patiently. - Do not invent something that does not exist. Nobody was offended. Seda is a smart girl and understands that you and Ahtem are the soul of this collection. Well, since, as you rightly said at the meeting, the soul of Ahtem is Laura, then she and represent it with you.
- How reasonable you are, - Defne scathingly assessed his speech. - Always unbreakable arguments! And even if I don't want to, I still agree.
The car pulled up to the house and stopped in the driveway.
- Well, tell me why I'm so weak and can't tell you no? - Defne complained as she disembarked from it. - After all, I am not at all eager to be a model. I do not know how to do this and do not like...
Omer lifted his eyes to the sky, and then quickly bent down and closed her mouth with a kiss. When he pulled away, the angry gaze of amber eyes was replaced by blurred one.
- Calmed down? Omer asked.
"Yeah," she nodded.
"That's wonderful," he put his arm around her shoulders and led her toward the house. - Don't worry about anything. I will not let you feel uncomfortable or tired. I will be there and will not leave you a single step. Did you agree?
"Agreed," Defne agreed complacently as if she was not the one throwing a hysterics five minutes ago.
Together they went up to the terrace and Defne stopped, fascinated looking at the corner.
"Look," she pointed to Omer at a thick blanket folded in four. A gray cat was sleeping on it, curled up in a ball.
Defne moved to come up and stroke the beauty, but Omer gently stopped her.
- Do not scare it. Let it get used to it.
- And again you are right, - Defne smiled. - Well, how can you be so perfect?
- Let's go already, - hiding a smile, Omer opened the door and pulled her into the house.
***
In the morning, entering the office, Omer stopped at the secretary's desk and gave the order in a stern tone:
- Derya, ask Koray to come to me. Immediately.
"Good morning, Mr. Omer," the girl transparently hinted that the boss had completely forgotten the rules of good tone, but Omer just pursed his lips and looked at her sternly. - Good. I will immediately convey your request to him.
Omer entered the study, took off his coat, and hung it in the closet, and nervously smoothed his hair.
- Ta-da-da-dame! - the door swung open and Koray froze on the threshold in a picture pose.
"Come in and close the door," Omer told him.
- Omyush, my dark-haired prince, are you out of sorts? Koray squeezed his large body into the chair and arched an eyebrow to stare at Omer with unblinking eyes.
"In spirit, Koray, in spirit," he replied and scratched the stubble over the corner of his mouth. - I want to talk to you about a very important thing.
- Come on, - the photographer's eyes lit up with curiosity, and he became like a child who is waiting for what to appear from the bag with gifts. - Who are we going to gossip about? About Tranba? No, though! - he narrowed his eyes. - Come on about Feryal. Nasty Feryal! She asked to come for the shoot today. Just to make eyes at you!
- Koray! - Omer interrupted him, and the overage child pouted out his lips resentfully. - Be quiet a little. We will not gossip about anyone. I want to talk about today's photoshoot.
- About the photo session ?! Koray beamed again. - Oh, your skinny girl! How beautiful she is, how sweet...
- Yes, yes, Koray, such she is, - Omer began to lose patience. - Let me finish. Koray pursed his lips in displeasure but fell silent. - So about the photo session. You know that Defne is pregnant ...
- What?!!! - cried the photographer and, like a large inflatable ball, bounced in the chair. - Is the skinny girl pregnant? !!!
- Didn't you know? - Omer asked perplexedly. - I could not even think. Everybody knows...
- What?!!! Koray shouted again. - Everyone knows, but not a word to me? !!! Shameless! I pull my hair out !!! I will cut off my ears !!!
"Okay, okay, Koray," Omer said graciously. - Cut it off. Now listen to me, please, - the photographer fell silent and only puffed angrily. - I beg you to be with Defne delicate and attentive today. Don't scold her and don't let her overwork. Leave the chatter behind and work with precision and speed. Good?
But Koray no longer heard him. He leaped from his seat and rushed at full steam to the exit from the office. In the corridor, he scolded Derya, walked over Sinan who got in the way, who is not a friend at all, since he had not told him such news, and disappeared into the elevator.
- What's with him? - Entering Omer's office and laughing cheerfully asked Sinan.
"I told him that Defne was pregnant and asked him to be more delicate," he answered with a sigh.
- Did you tell him? Didn't he know? - Sinan goggled in surprise.
- As it turned out, no, - Omer ruffled the hair on the back of his head, and then slapped his hand on the cheek. - Here we are!
"Don't tell me," Sinan agreed laughing.
Koray raced down the Sapphire corridor and into Defne's office. She was just putting the necessary things in her purse and was about to go to the studio.
"Hi," she greeted amiably and assured the overly excited guest: "I'm ready and I'm coming to you. Laura will come later. Take the photos with me, and then with her.
But Koray didn't seem to hear. Looking carefully, he walked around her and asked:
- Skinny, do you want strawberries?
"No," she replied, confused.
- Do you want some cake? Brownie chocolate? His eyes lit up with anticipation.
- I do not want to eat. I had breakfast, - Defne did not understand at all the behavior of the crazy photographer.
- It doesn't happen! - He was indignant. - Pregnant women always want something!
- Oh! - Defne guessed. - You heard rumors about my pregnancy.
"I-and-and," Koray gave her a scornful look. - There are rumors. And you couldn't tell me about yourself?
- Well, - Defne shrugged. - Pregnancy is not something that one talks about right and left.
- Girl! - The photographer hoisted. - If you were not pregnant, I would pull out all your hair now! - He sighed theatrically and humbly dropped his gaze. - But Omyush said - to be delicate and caring.
- A-ah! - held out to Defne again. - So that's where all this comes. Okay, Koray! Let's take the photos and order a cappuccino brownie here.
- Ay, skinny! Koray clapped his hands. - You are the most correct pregnant!
Omer's fears were in vain. Koray behaved like a darling. They joked with Defne during the breaks and worked harmoniously during the filming process itself. True, the good attitude extended only to the beloved model. The hairdresser, make-up artist, stylist, and assistant, as usual, received a flurry of nagging and cursing from the brilliant photographer, but they did not pay attention at all. And as for the ideas Koray gave out, which slipped between the stream of boasting and chatter, they were brilliant as always. As well as their implementation in the photo. Koray, looking at the footage, groaned, gasped, and loudly declared that this was a bomb that would blow up not only Turkey but the whole world.
Omer, leaning his shoulder against the wall, stood to the side, looked from Koray to Defne, and thoughtfully stroked his chin.
When Koray announced that the skinny girl could be free and now he would take pictures of the Countess, Defne winked at him and said something quietly in his ear. The man snorted and raised his head proudly. The laughing girl approached Omer.
- What did you tell him? - Watching the photographer, he asked.
"That Laura, though not pregnant, deserves the most respectful attitude," she replied cheerfully.
- Generous Defne, - smiled Omer and took her arm. - Let's go to my office. Lunch was delivered from Mano. You are probably tired and hungry.
"I'm not tired at all," Defne objected. - But hungry. She put her hands on her stomach and grimaced. "I've always been hungry lately. A little glutton grows in me.
Omer laughed and pressed his cheek to the top of her head for a moment. And then pushed her towards his office.
- Let's go faster. We'll feed you and the little glutton.
They had barely had time to lunch when Alina called and said that the florists had arrived and were waiting for Mrs. Defne for the final approval of the flower arrangements. Kissing Omer on the cheek, she thanked him for lunch and ran off to her room. After watching her, he ordered Derya to remove the remnants of food and sat down to work. After all, after winter, spring will come and women will want to quickly take off their boring boots and put on elegant shoes. These are the ones whose sketches are now drawn by his imagination. The sooner they become reality from thoughts, the more time it will take to present them with dignity.
And then summer will come and a small bead Emine Iplikci will be born.
Omer put down his pencil and smiled at the thought.
At the end of the working day, Derya entered the office. Having quickly read the schedule for tomorrow, she fell silent but was in no hurry to leave. Omer looked up at her expectantly. The girl was nervous. She bit her lips and shifted from foot to foot.
"Speak," he said.
"Mr. Omer, I'm getting married," she blurted out.
- Congratulations.
"In Germany," she added and lowered her eyes apologetically.
- In Germany? - Omer asked calmly, but mentally winced - again he needs to look for a new assistant. - And when is the significant event?
- In a month. In Munich. I brought you a letter of resignation. I know I have to work for two weeks, so I'm submitting it today. December twenty-ninth will be my last working day. And on the thirtieth, I fly to Germany.
"I wish you happiness," said Omer and held out his hand. - Give me the resignation. I will sign it. And let the personnel department look for your replacement. I will give an order to the accounting department for your wage and a bonus.
- Thank you, Mr. Omer! - Derya exclaimed happily. - You are so ... so! The best boss ever! I'll miss you! Very very!
- Good, good! - Omer winced and gestured to the door. - Hurry to the personnel department. It will be six o'clock soon, and they'll go home.
When the satisfied Derya disappeared from the office, Omer got up and walked over to the glass partition separating his office from another, so special. After Defne, he would not let anyone occupy it. And Derya preferred to keep behind the wall. Although she was not particularly eager to poke the boss's eyes. But this approach is probably wrong. Defne is now his wife, and keeping the office empty when the rest of the employees are sitting almost on each other's heads is selfish and wrong.
Putting his hands in his pockets, he stood for a few more minutes, and then smiled and, taking his coat, went out the door.
The noise was heard from Defne's office. Omer stopped and listened. Koray's capricious voice echoed with Laura's deep, sonorous Seda, and Defne's laughter rang over them like a bell. It looks like the girls had a ladies' party, which was attended by a brilliant photographer.
Omer looked into the office and asked:
- Won't I interfere?
- What are you saying! - Defne stood up to meet him and smiled happily. - Come in. We decided to celebrate the photo session with cakes and cappuccino. Do you want coffee?
Omer shook his head and sat down in an empty chair. There was a folder with photographs on Defne's desktop.
- Already done? So fast? - He was surprised and reached out to take it in his hands. But Koray nimbly snatched the folder from under his nose.
- You can't! - He declared. - You will see them at the opening.
"Okay," Omer raised his hands in agreement. - I don't touch. Let it be a surprise.
- It will be! Koray promised, squinting. "I swear you'll fall in love with your wife again!
- Again? - Omer looked at Defne and winked at her. "It will be... exciting. I can't wait for Saturday.
***
In the luxurious Sarafoglu mansion, in her room, a beautiful but sad woman was preparing to go out with her husband. Her life had shrunk to the size of a few months, and it hurt her immensely. A stranger said that he was her husband, brought her to this house, and called it her home. He brought children to her and said that they were her children. And she didn't remember anything. Everyone and everything around was strangers to her frightened her.
She did not leave the house, did not meet with anyone, and did not speak. And only in the greenhouse, near the flowers, she felt calm.
Today's exit, the first in the life she remembered, worried her. She didn't know how to dress properly, how to comb her hair, and how bright to make her makeup.
The maid helped her with her hair, and Burak brought the dress. He put it on the bed and said that she would be beautiful in this outfit.
Sitting in front of the mirror, she put on makeup, applied perfume to her neck and wrists, and went to the bed. She took the dress from the cover and gasped. It was beautiful. Black, velvet, with bare shoulders and a long, floor-length skirt. Farah put it on and closed the side with a clasp. Perfect. Only a loving man without fitting could buy a dress that sat like a glove.
Loving man. And she...
Farah was putting on her shoes when Burak entered the room. So beautiful that she caught her breath. He placed a flat case on the dresser, dropped to one knee, and fastened the straps around her slender ankles. And then he got up, examined his wife with an admiring glance, and asked:
- Turn to the mirror.
She obeyed meekly. Burak took a necklace out of its case, wrapped it around her neck, and began to fiddle with the fastener.
A sharp pain shot through the base of the neck.
- Ay! Farah screamed. - You scratched me too!
"Sorry," he kissed her shoulder, and then looked warily at the reflection of her face in the mirror. - You said, too?
- The clasp on this necklace is wrong. And when you fasten it, it scratches your neck. This is his exclusive feature. When dad fastened the necklace on mom, he also scratched her neck every time, and she screamed, and then laughed ...
Farah gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. A storm of emotion was reflected in the eyes looking at him from the mirror. Awareness, shock, pain, fear ... life. She moaned, and tears rolled from her eyes.
Burak turned her by the shoulders and looked into confused eyes.
"Hush, my love," he asked, kissing the corners of her eyes and high cheekbones. - Еverything is fine. Now everything is fine ...
***
Defne was preparing for the opening of Sapphire. Her firm, where she is the soul and the main person. She still did not fully believe that everything worked out. That her unexpected fascination with jewelry became the work of her entire life. Defne knew who she should thank. Omer. Her gorgeous husband. He noticed this, saw a spark of talent, convinced her, helped, and did everything to make her dream come true.
She wanted to be the most beautiful today. For him. To make him proud of her. To hold his beautiful head high and know that there is a worthy woman next to him.
Defne even visited a beauty salon where she was given a flawlessly elegant hair-styling and exquisite, discreet makeup. And now, sitting in front of the antique mirror in their bedroom, she was putting the finishing touches - her favorite perfume on her wrists, tiny diamond studs in her ears, and a chain with the same diamond pendant around her neck. She examined herself in the mirror and was pleased. The silk, pearl-colored dress, left open shoulders, tightly wrapped around the still thin waist, and soft waves descended to the floor. On her feet is the creation of Omer. Silver-white shoes made of fine leather.
Defne admitted to herself - she looks good. Elegant and gentle. Without a touch of vulgarity, without aggressive sexuality. Exactly how Defne Iplikci should look.
Omer entered the room. Defne looked at him, and her heart sank in her chest. How can he be so beautiful? And he, as if hearing her thoughts, winked at her and, with a perfected movement, straightened the anthracite-colored bow-tie. He held his other hand behind his back. Smiling at Defna, he spoke:
"Now is the day of your triumph, my love. And I thought - you should wear this.
He pulled out the hand from behind his back, holding an oval, velvet box. Defne looked at it, and a happy smile lit up her face.