The Ipliкci were having fun at the beach party.
The drums sounded loud, and the ukulele guitars were ringing. Girls-dancers in exotic outfits, decorated with coconut shells, rhythmically moved around a fire lit right on the sand. Guests of the island danced with them. Businessmen and politicians, throwing off the mask of strict presentability, caught the rhythm and happily danced barefoot right on the sand. Rum and champagne flowed like water. Omer also had a couple of drinks. The strong drink seethed in the blood and drove to madness. Taking Defne in his arms, he whirled with her and kissed her, not paying any attention to the crowd around. She, too, threw away her shyness and completely surrendered herself to the captivating music, the cheerful atmosphere of the holiday, and the crazy mood of Omer. They danced, clumsily but cheerfully, trying to imitate the dancers. Defne was good, Omer was terrible. She laughed at his awkwardness and teased that she would tell everyone in Istanbul that the knowledgeable and able Omer Iplikci could not master Polynesian dances. He caught her in his arms at the moment when a gentle, touching melody sounded and purred in her ear:
- But the slow ones I dance the best.
Holding her tightly to him, he began to sway to the beat of the melody. His lips lived a separate life. They kissed the temple, high cheekbone, neck, and finally got to the lips. Defne closed her eyes and gave herself up to the music and his kisses. They smelled of rum, reckless passion, and joy. And this recklessness was passed on to her. She wanted to laugh and scream, dance until she drops, love to the point of exhaustion. Defne knew - this night will fulfill all her wishes.
- Aren't you tired? – А velvet voice purred at the ear.
Defne shook her head and, raised her face to him.
- I'm not tired. I just want to drink.
- I'll bring it right now, - he led her out of the dancing crowd and ordered: - Stay here and not a step anywhere.
She deftly saluted him with two fingers and reported:
- Yes!
Omer walked towards the brightly lit bar, and Defne watched the people dancing with the lights. It was as beautiful as if fireworks had descended from heaven to earth. While watching the show, she did not notice the man who came up to her and held out his hand.
- Lady, can I ask you to dance? He spoke English and his voice was vaguely familiar.
Defne looked up at him and her mouth parted in surprise. The man's face was familiar to her. Even more. She saw him in American films. Starring. But in life, he was even more interesting. A kind of sly look and a casual playboy pose.
Omer, waiting for the ordered juice, looked sideways in the direction of Defne, and immediately all the rum disappeared from his head. A man stood beside her. And not just anyone, but a famous Hollywood actor. He, clearly intending to invite her to dance, held out his hand. Moreover, he looked with the eyes of a hardened rascal and womanizer. On his Defne!!!
"Monsieur, your juice," the waiter said to him.
Omer grabbed the glass and walked quickly towards his wife.
Defne was still staring in amazement at the star of the movies and blinking in confusion when Omer grew up next to her and handed her a glass with a bright orange liquid.
"Darling, your juice," he said and hugged his wife around the waist.
- Your boyfriend? The star asked casually.
"Husband," Omer corrected him coldly.
- Oh! - He raised his eyebrows in exaggerated surprise. "Is the lovely lady married?" I wanted to ask her to dance.
- It's impossible, - cut off more and more boiling Omer. - My wife is pregnant, tired, and thirsty.
The two men locked eyes. Defne looked from one to the other with her wide-open eyes and did not believe them. Maybe this is a dream and she will wake up now?
"I beg your pardon," the star raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture and winked at Omer. - You are a real lucky one. I will not bother you.
He turned and walked casually into the midst of the dancing bodies.
- Was that Matthew McConaughey? - Looking after him, Defne asked in shock.
"In-person," Omer confirmed tartly. - It's Bora Bora. Celebrity hangout.
Defne's face twisted into a disappointed grimace. She drank the juice in one gulp and turned to her husband:
- I, the girl from the neighborhood, had a chance to dance with a Hollywood star, and you kicked him out?
- Defne! - Omer said warningly.
"Oh, just don't say that I'm your wife," she was not at all frightened. Taking his arm, she sighed heavily. - At least we would have taken a picture. We missed the chance. I'll tell Nihan - she will die. And then she will beat you. No ... First, she will beat you, and then she will die. Precisely, she will beat you, and then she will die.
- What are you talking about? Did they mix rum in the juice? Omer sniffed suspiciously at the empty glass. - I do not think so.
- How can you, a celestial, understand a simple girl, - Defne whined further. - He is a star! Not Turkish. Hollywood! - She mechanically put the glass on the tray of a passing waiter and raised her index finger. - Although I respect the Turkish actors. There is one actor so much like you, just one face. Maybe you are twins and you don't know?
- Defne!!!
- Well, what Defne, what Defne?! You messed everything up yourself and you're still angry!
Omer pulled her away from the dancers and when the darkness reliably hid them from prying eyes, he stopped and barked:
- I'm jealous!
- Why's that? She wondered. - From whom? From this actor? What stupidity. He's a star, "she raised her index finger again," not a man.
Omer did not know whether to laugh at her or get angry further. But how can you be angry with such a Defne? Trying heroically to contain his laughter, he asked:
- Darling, do you know that you just lowered all the male actors below the ground?
- What? She asked innocently.
Omer could not resist. He threw back his head and laughed uncontrollably.
Defne looked at him reproachfully. Shaking her head, she clucked her tongue.
- Ts-c-c! It is a shame, Mr. Omer, to laugh at your pregnant wife.
- Come to me, - he pulled her to him and looked into angry eyes. - You are so cute.
Defne blossomed into a smile.
- Are you not jealous anymore?
- After such a description? My soul, now I will not be able to look seriously at any actor. I will immediately remember that he is not a man, but a star, - Omer was merry.
"Tease me, tease," she pouted, and he immediately kissed her lips. Defne sighed sweetly and asked: - Let's go to our place. The morning is coming soon. I'm a little tired, and I want to sleep.
- Tired? - Omer was alarmed. - There is no forgiveness for me! - He picked her up in his arms and, bypassing the dancing crowd, carried her to the forks of wooden bridges.
Defne put her arms around his neck and, resting her head on his shoulder, asked:
- Does the tradition continue in the New Year?
- And in this, and in the next, and another hundred years, - answered Omer and pressed his cheek to her head.
The measured swaying of the steps lulled Defne. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to float on the waves of half-sleep. Omer put her on her feet on the terrace. She went into the bungalow, yawning and sleepily rubbing her eyes. Bare feet required a shower, and the head required a pillow. Therefore, she closed the door to the bathroom with a latch from sinning. If Omer makes his way to her shower, she can forget about sleep. He tugged at the handle and, without opening, muttered something inarticulate under his breath. When Defne came out five minutes later in her pajamas buttoned up, he just sighed and trudged into the cold water.
Returning to the room, Omer found his wife sleeping peacefully in the middle of the huge bed. Admiring her serene face, he lay down beside her and, pressing his chest against her back, covered her belly with his hand.
Nothing has changed in the New Year.
He still guarded his happiness.
It was noon when Defne emerged from a sound sleep. Without opening her eyes, she stretched sweetly. Her hand caught something square and smooth. Defne opened her eyes and looked at the next pillow. There was a small box, wrapped in glossy, bright blue paper, with a silver-blue bow attached on top. Defne sat up on the bed with a jerk and shook her head, chasing off sleep. And then she remembered that today is the first day of the New Year and most likely Omer's gift lies on the pillow.
And his is hidden in the closet!
She scrambled out of bed and ran into the dressing room.
- Where are you going? - Omer, who was patiently waiting for her awakening and for half an hour had been propping up the doorframe with his shoulder, caught her by the hand.
"For your present," she replied and kissed him on the cheek. - Good morning! Stay here and don't go anywhere!
Defne disappeared into the depths of the bungalow and returned a couple of minutes later, still disheveled after sleep, but impossibly dear and sweet. The right hand was hidden behind the back.
- Happy new year darling! She held out her hand.
In her palm lay the same box as the one in which Omer's gift was packed. Only the color of the paper was red and the ribbon was gold. Omer took it in his hands and kissed his wife on her flushed cheek, whispered in her ear:
- First, open yours.
The blue box was in her hand. Defne sat down on the bed and, carefully undoing the ribbon, took off the wrapper. Beneath it was a case covered in blue velvet. Defne opened it and gasped. There was a pearl inside. Large, perfectly round, shimmery. Golden. Its color was brighter than gold, and its radiance was noble and pure. Defne gasped convulsively, looked up at Omer with admiration, and exhaled:
- It's beautiful.
"Looks like you," he said in a hoarse voice.
Defne's eyes filled with tears. Her lips trembled as she said:
- Open yours.
Omer sat down next to her on the bed and opened his present. The case inside was red. And the pearl was black.
"Defne," he said in amazement. - This is ... the same?
"It looks like you," she said simply. - The same noble and flawless.
Omer swallowed. His throat tightened and he couldn't say a word. He just looked at Defne with wet eyes. She was the first to reach out to him and hug him. Gently ruffled his hair and kissed him. He wrapped his hot palms around her and held her tightly to him. Burying his face in her hair, he kissed the curve of her neck and whispered in her ear:
- Thanks...
"Thank you," Defne answered just as quietly. - Golden pearl. It's so rare...
- Monsieur Jean found it, - smiled Omer. - It was laying at the bottom of his farm, and he found it himself.
- And he sold it to you? She wondered.
- I said that it is you. And he agreed. While you were looking at jewelry in the store, we made a deal with him.
Omer smiled. Now Defne's throat was tight. She hugged him silently and pressed her face to his chest. He put his hand on her head and gently stroked her soft hair, shoulders, and a sharp elbow. The palm rested on the belly. Having spread it out and clasping a barely noticeable bulge, he said: - I have a present for the baby too.
Defne looked eagerly into his face. And he touched his finger to the tip of the curious nose and pulled out another box from under the pillow. Pink, tied with a white ribbon. Defne took it and opened it. The pearl inside was white. It shimmered and shone from within with a touching, living light.
- Allah! - Defne whispered. -The Bead. Our bead Emine, - she looked at Omer. - This will be her talisman. Like a guardian angel.
- The third after us, - smiled Omer.
Defne moved the pearls aside and cupped his face in her palms. Looking into his eyes, she said:
- I love you so much!
"Always tell me that," he asked, repeating her gesture.
"Always," she promised. - I'll ask you something.
- Ask for anything! I'll hurt myself, but I'll do it.
- Let's go swimming in the lagoon?
Omer's gaze filled with confusion. At this moment and such a simple desire? He thought - she would ask for the moon and stars from the sky.
- Is that all your request?
"Uh-huh," Defne confirmed. "But that's not me. Emine wants."
He laughed and got out of bed. Looking at her he agreed:
- Good. But first, we'll hide our precious pearls and have breakfast. "He glanced at his watch." - Or we'll have lunch. The canoe is already sailing towards us.
- Canoe? Defne followed him to her feet.
"Canoe," Omer confirmed. "How many days have we been here, and you, sleepyhead, still don't know that breakfast is delivered to us by canoe?"
"I don't know," Defne cried. - Shame on me! This is probably such a sight. Ay, don't hold me back! I don't want to miss the show!
Ten minutes later, Defne, barefoot, in a short lace sarafan, stood at the railing of the terrace and looked at the lagoon. Her hair, loose on the back, flashed in the sun with copper reflections. Omer stood behind and admired them. Just like a year and a half ago. But then he did it furtively, and now he could openly lose heart from this seductive beauty. And not just watch. He could come up, twist a curl on his finger, to bury his face in her hair, to breathe in their scent deeply. To turn Defne to face himself and kiss her.
But a canoe was already approaching the bungalow, and Omer just stood next to her and put his hand on her shoulder. Defne smiled casually at him and turned her gaze back to the narrow, pointed, leather boat. She was controlled by a dark-skinned young man, and a beautiful girl in a bright sarong and wearing flowers around her neck held a tray laden with plates and jugs on her knees. The canoe moored to the wooden deck, and the girl gracefully stepped onto its boards. Climbing onto the terrace, she bowed to the guests of the hotel and quietly wished them good morning. A couple of minutes later the table was full of all kinds of dishes. Croissants smelled sweet, golden-orange jam sparkled in the sun, pink slices of ham and cream cheese shone through. The black coffee poured from the coffee pot into the cups smelled with a thick aroma. Cane brown sugar sparkled with crystals. Omer added it to Defne's cup, stirred it, and poured a thick cream from a white milk jug. Marble stains appeared on the surface of the coffee, and the dark liquid acquired a soft, whitish-brown color. Defne, as if spellbound, looked at the table and did not move. Omer pushed back a chair for her and nodded:
- Darling, can you stop staring at the table and sit down to have breakfast?
- Oh, I'm sorry, - Defne woke up and blushed with embarrassment. - Sometimes, when I see something beautiful, I fall into rapture.
"We know that," Omer winked and sat down in his seat. Spreading butter on the crispy toast, he placed slices of ham on top and put it on Defne's plate. - Eat! You completely starved the baby. She is already there screaming and angry at mommy.
"And she's not in the least angry," Defne objected. After taking a bite of a large piece of toast, she closed her eyes and mumbled: - Mmm! Divine.
- Chew, chatterbox - ordered Omer and bit his tongue. What is he doing? His wife is pregnant, she will suddenly be offended by such an epithet. He hastened to justify himself: - Otherwise, God forbid you to choke.
Defne was not at all offended. She smiled cheerfully and took a long sip of coffee. Omer exhaled imperceptibly and proceeded to breakfast.
Very late breakfast, he reminded himself mockingly.
And how is he going to return to work in a week after such lazy, idle, pleasure-filled days? Not otherwise, he will have to use shock therapy in the form of rowing on the winter Bosphorus at five in the morning. In the meantime, he can relax and enjoy life to the fullest.
Defne sat on the deck and dangled in the water with her bare feet. When she stopped, colorful fish swam up to her fingers and poked them with their tiny mouths. Defne laughed at the tickle and moved her feet slightly. The fishes scurried in different directions and then swam up again.
"And how curious you are," she said to them. - You want to tickle me. But I can get a good look at you. You are so beautiful. I have never seen fish of such bright colors before. At home, I'll tell Nihan and Esra about you. They will be jealous.
- Who are you talking to?
Omer came up quietly and sat down next to her.
- With the fish, - Defne answered laughing.
- And how are the interlocutors? Omer asked cheerfully.
"Just flawless," she answered in tune. - Oh-oh-very respectful. They do not interrupt, do not criticize, do not mock.
- And what, their company is more interesting to you than mine? - Omer bit his lower lip and smiled slyly with one corner of his mouth.
- How can you say that! - Defne was indignant. - You are out of the competition. I didn't even want to swim without you. And where did you go?
She spoke the last words with reproach. Omer kissed her on the cheek and apologized:
- I'm sorry, darling. I went to the admin corpus. I ordered for you and me a tour of the island. You need to see the real tropics. Let's go up to the observation deck, look at Bora Bora from a bird's eye view.
- Wonderful! - Defne's eyes lit up with anticipation. - And when?
- The day after tomorrow. Let's examine the island, save our memories here, "he pointed to his temple, and then to his chest," and here. And the next day we will fly home. In the meantime, we will enjoy the lagoon, beach, and the bed in our bungalow. The latter is beyond the competition. Longer and more often, - he pulled back the leotard strap and kissed the shoulder.
"We also have a bed at home," Defne reminded him slyly.
"And there is work too," Omer answered ironically, arching an eyebrow. - And it steals us from each other. And here you are the only mine, - his palm covered the round knee and crawled up her thigh. Defne intercepted it and looked seriously into his burning eyes.
- When Emine is born, we will belong to her. She will grow up knowing that her dad and mom love her more than anything else.
"Her and each other," he said confidently. - Defne, no matter how many children we have, you will never be into the background for me. I promise that we will take time for ourselves. Once every few months we will leave the children with relatives and run to where we can only be together.
- I will worry and feel guilty, - defended Defne piteously.
"You won't," Omer assured her. "The children will be in good hands." His palms closed on her back. - And you are in mine. Let's go swimming? - Immediately he changed the topic and jumped off the deck into the water. Turning around, he stretched out his hands to Defne, and she slipped into them without a shadow of doubt or fear. Omer is calling her. He will catch, hold, and will not allow anything bad to approach them even a step. Defne threw her arms around his neck and confidently reached out to face him. The lips met and the lovers forgot about everything in the world.
***
On January 2, a tall girl with dyed red hair entered into Passionis's office. She had a predatory profile and tenacious green eyes. But the smile that curled her plump lips was lusciously innocent. She went to the counter behind which Nazlican was standing and greeted:
- Hi! I am Laila, Mr. Omer's new assistant.
- Oh, how good! - She was delighted. - We are waiting for you. Mr. Omer will be back in four days. In the meantime, I will bring you up to date. Oh, I forgot to introduce myself! I am Nazlican.
The girl held out her hand to the newcomer, which she casually shook and asked:
- Where will my workplace be?
- Mr. Omer ordered the new assistant to take the office adjacent to his. They are separated by a glass partition. It has been empty for a long time. After Defne, Mr. Omer did not allow anyone to occupy it. And now he changed his mind, - responding Nazlican opened the door of the assistant's office and gestured to Laila to enter.
- Defne? - Going inside she asked.
- Yes, his wife, Defne Iplikci. She used to be his assistant, then a designer. And now she has her jewelry firm, Sapphire.
"What an interesting story," Laila said casually looking around the office.
- Oh yeah! - Nazlican turned on the computer and entered the password. - Modern Cinderella. A girl from a poor family won the heart of the prince and married him. Became a real princess.
- I thought this does not happen in the modern world.
- How it happens! - Nazlican exclaimed good-naturedly and pointed to a chair. - Sit down, I will introduce you to our programs and the files you need for your work.
The girl sat down at the table and looked through the glass at the empty boss chair. Her lips curled into a fox smile.
When Nazlican showed her the necessary documents and left the office, Laila leaned her head on the high back of the working chair and put her long legs, shod in Passionis stilettos, on the table. Her face dropped the mask. The mild expression was replaced by a calculatingly contented one.
"It worked," she whispered and grinned. - Come back, Omer Iplikci. It's time for you to change Cinderella.
***
Ahtem and Laura were preparing for the wedding. Even small, it still demanded strength and attention. In addition, renovations were underway in the new house. Ahtem wanted them to return immediately to their nest after their honeymoon, forever cutting off the period called Bakirkoy. Therefore, six teams worked at the same time in the house and the renovation was progressing quite quickly. Together with Laura, they walked around the shops and chose everything they needed - furniture, chandeliers, curtains, dishes. Some of the dowry bequeathed by her mother, Laura left in storage in Milan and now asked a specialized company to deliver these things. They arrived in early January and Laura took them to one of the renovated rooms in the new house.
One of the boxes was her mother's wedding dress. Since childhood, it has been the most important, almost sacred thing for Laura. A piece of mom. It smelled so thin and delicate. Laura always thought it was the smell of her mother. She breathed it in and dreamed that one day she would wear this fabulously beautiful dress for her wedding. But she didn't wear it. It seemed to her that it was blasphemy to defile the dress with the farce that was her wedding with Luke. And now she knew that her mother's wedding with her father was also a farce. And she didn't want to pull this falsity into their life with Ahtem.
Pressing the thin silk to her face, she took a deep breath of its scent and whispered:
- Forgive me, Mom. I will cherish your dress, but I will put on a new one for my real, long-awaited wedding. My own. May Ahtem and I have a new life. May I have what you never had - love, loyalty, care ... and warmth. I love you, mommy.
Something soft touched her leg. Laura looked down. The gray cat rubbed against her calves and looked at her with intelligent, slanting eyes. Laura sat down and stroked it between the ears.
- Hi, Gri! - whispered affectionately. - Are you saying that I'm doing everything right?
The answer was a melodic purr.
***
The powerful Range Rover first drove around the island along an asphalt road that stretched along the coast and then turned onto a dirt road that went inland and was lost in a lush tropical forest. Green branches closed and formed a picturesque tunnel with flexible shoots of flowering vines hanging down to the ground. The moist air felt thick and sticky, like syrup vapor. Omer and Defne's thin shirts were soaked in this moisture and stuck to the body. Hair curled into rings and stuck into their eyes. Defne pulled them together at the top of her head with an elastic band and twisted them into a knot. Omer turned his baseball cap, wearing it backward. The road was washed out in places by rains and the Range Rover, and with it, the passengers shook from side to side. But all these inconveniences faded against the background of the surrounding beauty. Never before has Defne seen such lush green foliage, such bright and large flowers, such large dragonflies iridescent with all the colors of the rainbow, and fragile butterflies with velvet wings. At her request, the guide, who was also the driver, stopped the car near picturesque meadows for her to see enough of the tropical wonders. She gasped and froze in admiration, and Omer laughed and photographed her against the background of the flowers and lush vegetation of the rainforest.
The car climbed higher and higher up the slope of Mount Otеmanu. There, at the base of the steep peak, an observation deck was equipped from which a stunning view of the lagoon and numerous islets of Motu, which were scattered in it, like emeralds on turquoise silk, opened up.
The last two hundred meters had to be walked. Even the powerful Range Rover could not overcome the steep, rainy slope. Omer held Defne's hand and kept her not to slip or fall.
The forest wall suddenly broke off at the very base of a small plateau. It ended with a high, stone railing. Defne and Omer walked up to it and froze, holding their breath. In front of them, the lagoon waters shimmered with all shades of turquoise. And above them, clouds piled up. Low, white at the edges and darkening towards the middle. The rays of the midday sun shone through them and sparkled on the water surface. At the horizon, the clouds turned into dark, heavy, almost black clouds. The sight was spectacular, but the guide looked at them, frowned, and took out his phone. He stepped aside, and when he returned, his face was distorted with anxiety.
"Mr.Omer," he turned to Omer and Defne, "we need to leave immediately. A typhoon is approaching Bora Bora. You need to get to Tahiti. It's safer to wait out the storm on the big island. But you need to hurry. In 2-3 hours the sky will be closed and it will be impossible to fly to Tahiti.
Omer's heart sank in dismay. He had never seen tropical storms before, but he had heard of their treachery. He looked into Defne's frightened face and hurried to calm her down:
- Do not worry. We'll be on time. The suitcases are almost packed. The lagoon is still calm. Let's take a speedboat and in ten minutes we will be at the airport. Now stay focused and take your time. The slope is steep. Our task is to prevent you from slipping and falling in a hurry.
Defne nodded her head and clung to his arm. A strong, reliable hand. Immediately she became calmer and the thoughts her my head fell into place. Omer is near, which means nothing bad will happen.
Getting down the mountain is much easier than climbing. By the time Defne and Omer approached the car, the guide had already started the engine and turned the powerful Range Rover around. Wasting no time, they climbed into the salon, and the car, cautiously, but rather quickly, rolled towards the coast. There was turmoil there. The vacationers, hung with suitcases, were hastily loaded onto boats and catamarans. Hotel and restaurant workers cleaned up street furniture, filled windows with sandbags, and loaded thatched roofs with loads.
The wind blew in and in the darkened lagoon, not large, but alarming waves arose. The clouds hung low over the island and the sun's rays did not break through their gray, dense layers. Summit Otemanu completely disappeared into the darkening clouds. As the car drove towards their hotel, Defne watched the change with dismay. Omer, sitting next to her, was outwardly completely calm. And only the long fingers of one hand tapped a drumbeat on a tanned knee, and the other squeezed her shoulder tighter.
After getting out of the car, they ran to their bungalow. Two puny, curly-haired boys were already working beside it. White mats from trestle beds and sun loungers were piled up in the bungalow's living room. There is also wicker furniture from the terrace and flower pots. Mentally rejoicing that yesterday she decided to pack their things that were no longer needed, Defne rushed to the suitcases. Everything that was not collected was hurriedly flying in them. Omer took their windbreakers out of the closet, put his own, and helped Defne put hers on. Then he zipped the suitcases with a confident movement and in a couple of minutes, everything was ready.
Defne went to the safe and pulled out the valuables. She put the boxes of pearls and the jewelry box in the backpack, which she put on her shoulders. Passports with tickets, phones, her wallet, and Omer's wallet - in her purse. When everything was ready and one of the boys carried the suitcases ashore, and Omer stood at the door with the keys ready, Defne remembered that the opal necklace was left in the drawer of the dressing table.
- I am coming, - she shouted to Omer and rushed into the bedroom.
Opening the drawer, she breathed a sigh of relief - the jewelry lay where she left it. The room was dark, but the opals emitted light. It flickered in the depths of the stones with a mysterious, blood-red fire and Defne suddenly became afraid. Her heart sank and ached.
- Defne, faster! - Omer called her.
There was no time to take off the backpack and hide the necklace in the box. She hurriedly tossed it into her purse, zipped it up, and tossed the long strap over her neck and shoulder.
- Sorry, - returning to Omer she said quickly. - I almost forgot the necklace.
- Nonsense, - taking her hand, he walked to the shore with a wide step. - We can buy ten new ones.
"This is your gift," Defne objected, barely keeping up with him. - I don't need new ones.
- Darling, these are only things, - Omer squeezed her hand in a death grip. "We need to worry about something more important now."
The shore was empty. Only the hotel workers remained. The vacationers left the island. Iplikci were almost the last ones who had not yet managed to sail to the airport, and this fact seriously alarmed Omer. But he kept his face and remained calm and collected. After all, his pregnant wife is nearby. Extra worries are contraindicated for her.
The boat dock was also empty. The receptionist called the high-speed water taxi service and was promised that the boat would return in ten minutes. They seemed like an eternity to Omer and Defne. The sky over the lagoon was rapidly darkening and the wind intensified. A storm is probably already raging in the open ocean. The sky for flights can be closed at any moment, and they will remain on the island in the middle of a raging hurricane. Omer was not afraid for himself. But there is Defne. Fragile, pregnant. She needs a calm environment, comfort, food.
And why did he come up with this stupid excursion to the mountains?
Not realizing, Omer squeezed Defne's fingers so that they were numb. Gently touching his cheek overgrown with long stubble, she turned his face to her and asked:
- Beloved, do not punish yourself, and do not worry. This is not the first hurricane on this island. But the locals don't run anywhere. Even if we can't fly away, we can handle it.
He clasped the back of her head with his palm and pressed his lips to her slightly frowned forehead.
"We'll make it," he promised firmly.
The speedboat moored to the pier. Omer hastily unloaded the suitcases into it and helped Defne down. To the airport, he was holding her hand and repeated, like a mantra:
- We'll be on time!
The boat was jumping on the waves and Defne felt sick. But she firmly endured nausea and did not even mention it to Omer. He was already worried. His face was completely black, a fold between the eyebrows and the lips were compressed into a thin line. But the look was collected and confident.
Even a hurricane cannot cause panic in Omer Iplikci, Defne thought with involuntary admiration.
Another jump of the boat made her stomach twist into a knot. Defne took a deep breath and held her breath. With her free hand, she covered her stomach and in her mind turned to the baby:
"Be patient, honey! There is only a little bit left. Soon we will come out of this galloping monster onto dry land. "
To avoid looking at the waves, she raised her head to the sky. There must have been a strong wind. It tore up the clouds and the sun's rays peeped through the holes for a moment. But they immediately disappeared behind clubs of whitish clouds. Defne was surprised to admit to herself - the element, although terrifying, is stunningly beautiful in its way.
Finally, the boat got to the pier. The taxi driver did not turn off the engine but helped to unload the things. And even in the confusion reigning on the shore, he was able to instantly grab the porter and hand him the suitcases. Forgetting about their luggage, Omer and Defne rushed to the airport building. Chaos reigned within. Frightened passengers were on the verge of panic and fussed about in the small departure hall. Someone was in a hurry to the plane, someone was looking for companions lost in the crowd, someone was rushing to the toilet. A tall blonde with a big mouth screeched that if even one of her twenty suitcases of luggage was lost, she would put in the prison of all the employees of this fucking airport.
Omer, firmly holding Defne's hand, made his way through the crowd to the ticket booths. There, unlike the rest of the hall, it was empty and this circumstance frightened Omer.
They stopped near the dividing glass. The girl behind it tried to remain calm, but her frightened eyes gave her away.
"We need two tickets to Papeete," Omer said.
The girl, without even looking at the monitor, answered with regret:
- There is only one for the last flight. It's in half an hour. At fifteen zero-zero the sky is closed. The storm is coming too fast. The flight is out of schedule. Additional. The plane arrived from Tahiti, is small. There are only twenty-two places in it.
The stream of words passed by his consciousness. A single word was beating in his brain. One! One? Omer turned cold inside and looked into Defne's pale face.
"Darling ...," he began, but she interrupted him and, desperately shaking her head from side to side, shouted:
- Not!!! I won't fly without you!!!
He caught her face and held it between his palms.
- My soul, listen to me...
- Not!!! Not!!! Not!!! - Defne shouted, closing her eyes.
Omer let go of her head and squeezed her shoulders with his hands. Shaking slightly, he demandingly shouted her name:
- Defne!!! - She opened her eyes and looked at him full of fear and despair. - We should not think about ourselves now. There is our baby. Her life is more important than anything else. "There was a steel note in his voice. He did not persuade, but gave orders: - You will get on this plane and fly to Tahiti. From the airport, you will get to the city and rent a hotel room. You close there and ride out the storm. As soon as it dies down and the sky is open for flying, I will fly to you.
Tears flowed from her eyes in a continuous stream. Clutching at his shirt, she asked:
- And you?
"I'm a man," Omer said firmly. "Don't be afraid for me. As you rightly pointed out, this is not the first time when a storm is here, and local men do not run away anywhere."
- Women too! - Defne shouted hysterically.
"You're pregnant," he reminded her sternly.
- Will you take a ticket? - The girl intervened in their dialogue.
- Yes, - Omer took Defne's bag and took out her passport and money.
- I can not! I can not!!! She cried, but Omer remained as hard as a rock. Taking the redeemed ticket, he grabbed her arm, nodded to the porter, and resolutely headed towards the check-in counter.
The hall was rapidly emptying. Two planes flew to Tahiti and only the passengers of the last flight remained at the airport. They paced around the departure hall and glanced impatiently at their watches. Defne stood, clinging to Omer, quietly crying and repeating:
- I can't ... I can't...
He gently stroked her hair, arms, narrow back, and kissed the streak beating in her temple.
- You can ... You are strong. You will drive away other thoughts and you will only think about yourself and Emine.
"I can't," she repeated again. "I'll die of fear for you.
"I, too, will die of fear for you," Omer pressed his cheek to her head. - For you. But it is necessary. Be a good girl. Remember that I love you very much. Every second while we are not together, I will think about you and pray.
- And I ... - Defne resigned herself and tears quickly rolled down her cheeks. - I will think and pray...
- My strong girl...
And outside the window, the wind intensified and the frightened seagulls, screaming alarmingly and sharply flapping their wings, returned from the ocean to the island.
They announced the flight.
"It's time," Omer breathed out hoarsely and loosened his embrace. Defne gave a convulsive sob and looked with big, pleading eyes. Omer bent down and pressed his lips to her lips in a crazy kiss. All his feelings held back to the brink of willpower splashed out in him. Terrible fear, despair, helplessness. He clasped his hands around the fragile figure. Releasing her lips, he covered her tear-stained face with feverish kisses.
"Don't cry, my love... don't cry," he asked in a choked voice. - Everything will be fine!
He released his arms and led her to the boarding gate corridor. He took his passport, wallet, and phone from her purse. He slipped them into the pockets of his windbreaker and pushed her towards the door. There was a girl in a white uniform. Defne took the ticket from her purse and handed it to her. She checked it and pointed to the exit to the plane. Defne looked around. Omer stood with his legs apart and his hands behind his back. His burning eyes stared at her. She rushed to him, but a stern voice stopped her:
- Madam, go to the plane. You are delaying other passengers.
Defne turned away and wandered down the corridor. It seemed to her that she was in a parallel reality. The body moved, but the soul separated from it and remained with Omer. Her eyes settled on the passport in her hands. You need to put it in your purse. She took it off her shoulder and unzipped it. A blow to the shoulder made her sway. The panicked passenger, pushing everyone around, ran to the plane. The purse flew out of her hands and flew against the wall. The fiery necklace slipped out of it, and a reddish light shone on the granite-tiled floor. Defne ran up and knelt to pick it up.
"No matter what happens in our life, no matter what storms come, we will hold on to each other," Omer's words pierced her brain like lightning, and she cried again with bitter, desperate tears.
When Defne's figure disappeared, Omer turned and walked slowly towards the exit from the airport. It hurt inside as if there was an open wound against which stone was pressing. He understood that there was no other way out, but his feelings did not hear the arguments of reason. His heart was breaking with fear and pain.
On the street, the wind hit him in the chest and blew out the fabric of the windbreaker like a sail. Clouds swirled overhead and seagulls screamed in alarm. They rushed chaotically in the sky and the soul froze from their crying. Omer understood that before it was too late, he needed to return to Bora Bora and seek refuge for himself, but something inside stopped him.
He walked to the ocean and, putting his hands in the pockets of his shorts, stopped. The air was filled with anxiety. Omer felt it with his skin. It penetrated the lungs and made the heart squeeze from an incomprehensible, illogical horror. The roar of an airplane taking off was heard behind him. It carried Defne to the big island.
"She will be safe there ... safe ..." he repeated, but anxiety grew and consumed his brain.
Omer looked around. The plane took off from the runway and began to climb. And suddenly, right above his head, it fell silent and shuddered with its large, birdlike body. For a moment it swayed from side to side and its nose lifted to the top. And then the large colossus fell onto the left-wing and smoothly entered the blue-green waves of the ocean.
It became quiet all around.
Like in a vacuum ...
Omer's heart stopped and a mute, eerie, desperate cry stuck in his throat ...
In the next second, the abyss opened and the world turned into chaos.