As soon as Omer crossed the threshold of her office, Defne rushed to him and asked:
- Well? Have you talked? Did she listen to you? Believe it?
- Hush, my soul - he smiled and led her by the hand to the sofa. Sitting down on a soft, brown seat, he sat down next to her and hid her palms in his hands. Smiling softly, he asked: - Don't be so nervous. This is bad for the baby. Sinan and Seda are adults. If such a small thing can destroy their feelings, then they are not worth a penny.
- But she listened to you? - repeated her question to Defne
- She listened.
"I don't know this," Omer replied thoughtfully. - It's impossible to regain trust in a couple of minutes. Remember how much you tortured yourself and me with doubts. And how much effort I had to make for you to believe my feelings again.
"We had a different story," Defne lowered her eyes and furrowed her brows. - I don't want anyone to repeat it and suffer the way we do. Especially our friends. I want them to be happy.
Omer hugged her and soothingly stroked her back.
- I want the same. We did everything in our power. Now they must take a step towards each other.
"You're right, my love. She pressed her cheek to his shoulder and closed her eyes. - How good! I will charge myself with energy.
"And I from you," said Omer and also closed his eyes.
It was a moment of bliss, but it was not destined to last for long. Defne's phone rang and reminded both of them that the working day had begun and it was time to get down to business.
"See you," Omer whispered, kissing her forehead.
"See you," Defne promised.
***
- Hello.
Seda, who had been looking pensively out the window for the last fifteen minutes, turned to the voice. Sinan stood in the doorway. He didn't look well. His face was darkened, his eyes sunken. These two days were clearly not easy for him.
"Hi," she replied and gestured to the chair. - Come in, sit down.
He entered the office but was in no hurry to sit down. Putting his hands behind his back, he stopped in the middle of the room and asked:
- How are you?
"Okay," she said. - And you?
"I am not," he answered honestly. - I can't either eat or sleep. I think about you all the time. And you? What do you think about me? Even a little?
There was fear in his voice. Sedа felt sorry for him. And herself. If she cannot trust if she doesn't give him a second chance, wouldn't they lose the most important thing in life?
"I thought," she replied.
- And what did you decide?
Seda shook her head.
- Nothing.
Sinan hung his head.
- I understand.
Seda opened her mouth to answer, but a phone call interrupted her. She looked at the phone and hastily answered the call.
- Mama! - The girl tried very hard to speak calmly, but there was clearly fear in her voice. - What happened? Something with Nisa? - Seda listened to the answer and turned pale before his eyes. Sinan's heart sank into his heels. - Do not cry! Take a taxi and go to the hospital. I'm coming too. And don't you dare get yourself worked up! Do you hear me?!
- What happened? Sinan asked anxiously as she put her hand down with the phone.
- Nisa's temperature rose sharply at school. She was taken to the hospital.
Her eyes filled with tears and her hands trembled. Sinan seemed to wake up. Helping her to put on her cloak and handing her purse, he did not stop for a moment.
- Calm down, darling! High temperatures don't mean anything. It might just be a virus. It is spring now, and they are clinging at every step. Let's go to the hospital. Оn my car. I will drive. You must not drive in this state. And don't you dare get worked up yourself! - He repeated her words and took her hand.
He did not let go of her hand either in the corridor or in the elevator. Even in the car, driving it with one hand, the other he squeezed her slim fingers. And when they ran along the hospital corridor, he also held her hand and mentally gave her his strength. He asked Allah for a miracle. So that everything is fine with Nisa and Seda does not suffer.
Mrs. Maryem was already waiting outside the door of the intensive care unit. Wringing her hands, she walked from corner to corner, and her lips were whispering something. Seeing her daughter, she rushed to her, hugged her, and burst into tears.
"Mommy, calm down," Seda asked. - Don't makeup horrors. Let's wait for what the doctor says.
They had to wait a long time. The nurse explained that Nisa's temperature had been brought down, and now all the necessary tests are being carried out. Sinan stayed there all the time. He encouraged the women, brought coffee, and got at least some information from the nurse on duty. He held Seda's hand and extended his shoulder when her head bowed in fear and despair. He persuaded Mrs. Maryem not to worry in advance. Everything will be fine with Nisa, and bad thoughts harm everyone, and first of all, to her.
At four o'clock, the doctor came out to them. He looked at the women tormented by expectation and fear and, smiling encouragingly, hastened to reassure:
- It's not a relapse. The blood counts are good. The girl caught banal flu. Take her home and soak her vigorously with tea with lemon and honey. I will prescribe antiviral drugs and vitamins. Nisa will be completely healthy in a week.
Delighted that the fever was not caused by a relapse of leukemia, mother and daughter hugged each other and burst into tears of happiness. Sinan hugged them both carefully and gently chided them.
- Enough tears. Otherwise, you will drown the whole hospital. After all, everything is fine. Common flu. We will cure her in no time.
Nisa was taken out of the department in a wheelchair. She looked pale but smiled broadly and cheerfully. Sinan grabbed the handles and rolled the chair toward the exit. Seda and Mrs. Maryem walked on both sides, held Nisa's hands, and joked that the flu was the best disease in the world.
***
Laila was shaking but pretended to be brave. She sat with her legs crossed and boldly looked into the narrowed eyes of the man opposite. He looked exactly the same as in the photo - sleek, expensively dressed, and smug. His wife, frozen like a statue, sat next to her husband and bored Laila with a mocking look.
For the meeting, Hussein Chatay chose a closed booth of one of the expensive, but with a dubious reputation, restaurants. It was rumored in Istanbul that a "gray" audience was gathering there. The rich, who got their millions in a slippery and not always fair work. And the interior of the restaurant itself was flashy, lurid, and resembled something in between an underground casino and a brothel.
"Yeah! Not Lunch and not Mano," thought Laila, looking around.
- I'm listening to you - Chatay reminded of himself and folded his hands on the table. - Don't waste my time.
- I have a sketch of the Sapphire crown set jewelry for the June exhibition in Ankara. The name is Starry Night, - Laila answered clearly speaking the words.
- Can I see it? The man asked.
"The photo is on my phone," she replied. - You will receive the original if we agree.
She opened a photo on her phone and handed it to Hussein Chatay. He looked at it for a long time and then asked:
- How did you get the sketch?
- Defne finished drawing it at home. The e-mail did not work in Sapphire, and Mrs. Laura urgently needed it. Defne sent it to her husband's e-mail in Passionis. At that time, I worked as his assistant. He asked me to take the printed sketch to Sapphire and give it to Mrs. Laura. I followed the order, but I made a copy first.
- What for?
Chatay fixed her with narrowed eyes. She grinned.
"Because I really love money," the metal rang in her voice. - And I hate Defne Iplikci! I want her and her company to go into oblivion in disgrace and pull Passionis with them.
Chatay grinned wryly and drummed his fingers on the table.
- A laudable wish. And what happened when you took the sketch to Sapphire?
- Mrs. Laura was waiting for me in the waiting room. She took it and gave it to Mirai to be entered into the database.
- Mirai?
- Database? - The husband and wife spoke in one voice.
Chatay stopped Hazal with a gesture and asked:
- So the sketch is entered into the database? This is bad.
- But I have the opportunity to remove it from there. And also from the е-mail of Omer and Defne Iplikci. The programmer of Passionis and Sapphire is in love with me and will do whatever I ask.
"And you, it turns out, are a real piece of work," Chatay drawled mockingly. - But you need not remove, but change the date to a later one. Can your programmer do this?
"Without a doubt," Lаila answered confidently.
"You said the name Mirai," Hazal Chatay spoke up. - Who is she?
- Employee of Sapphire. I don't remember the last name.
"Describe her," the woman ordered, and her eyes lit up with anger.
- Short, thin. Black hair and blue eyes. Quite pretty.
Hazal looked at her husband. Her cheek twitched in a nervous tic.
- That's her. I want her name to be involved in the scandal too. So that she again drowned in the mud and no longer scramble out of it.
Chatay grinned wryly, and the nervous tic on Hazal's face stopped. Pleased, she leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest.
The man turned his attention back to Laila.
- What do you want for this sketch?
"One hundred thousand dollars," she said clearly.
- How many? - He laughed. - Girl, are you selling a state secret? Ten thousand dollars.
- Eighty.
- Twenty.
- Sixty-five.
"Twenty-five and not a cent more."
- Thirty and you take me to work in your company.
- And like what? - Chatay laughed.
- Well, of course, not an assistant. A manager with a decent salary, - Laila did not remain in debt.
Chatay shook his head with a semblance of admiration.
- Yeah, you girl are the real deal. I respect that. We have vacated the position of Concept Director. Can you find a common language with journalists?
- No problem! - Laila answered self-confidently.
- Then the job is waiting for you. Get started tomorrow. At nine in the morning, I am waiting for you in the office with the original sketch. By the evening, it should have disappeared from the e-mails of both Iplikci, and in Sapphire's database, it should be with a new date. And, of course, to appear in the Turkish gold database. "Chatay's lips stretched out in a malevolent grin. - And then we will deal with the press and plan how to accuse Sapphire of stealing sketches and destroy their reputation.
- And who will steal the sketch from us? - Hazal asked her husband ironically.
- Your friend Mirai.
The husband and wife threw back their heads in a similar gesture and laughed.
And Laila's chest went cold for some reason. Such insidiousness was worse than her own and from the realization of this fact, it became uncomfortable. This couple is not at all like the noble and honest Iplikci. You need to keep an eye on them and not trust them.
- If the conversation is over, can I go? - Laila turned to the new boss.
"Yes," he said, laughing mockingly. - You still have a lot to do today. Seduce a programmer, buy a pair of decent business suits, and dye your hair.
- My hair? - discouraged asked Laila and touched her hair. - What for?
The mocking smile faded from the man's face, and it took on a predatory expression. He looked at her and muttered through his teeth:
- I hate redheads!
When Laila left, Chatay turned to his wife. Admiring her face cut by the cosmetic surgeon's chisel, he asked:
- Dear, do you still remember that you are the creative director of our company? At least for the sake of decency, show up sometimes at work.
"Oh, my dear." Hazal's lips stretched into a smile that did not touch her eyes. - From tomorrow everything will change. I now have a great interest in my work.
Leaning imposingly on the back of the sofa upholstered in red brocade, Chatay said:
- I always knew that it is better to be your ally than your enemy.
Laila came out of the hairdresser's with dark brown hair. This was her real color and she again became an exact copy of her boring sister. Daddy will definitely be shocked. This circumstance amused her, but there was no time to indulge in stinging ridicule. She was waiting for another performance, the game which will bring her thirty thousand dollars and the position of director in a large company.
Fetching the phone from her purse, she called Zubeyir. Giving her voice a proper sadness, she greeted:
- Hello, my love.
When he heard her words, at first he was speechless, and then he spoke quickly:
- Darling, how are you? Calmed down a bit? I was so worried, I called, but you did not answer!
"I couldn't talk to anyone," Laila cried pitifully. - I was so humiliated and offended! I put so much effort into this work. I tried so hard, and they! Thrown me out like a stray dog.
- Don't cry, my angel! Do not cry! Tell me, how can I help you?
- You can, but this is not for a telephone conversation. Let's meet. Let's take a walk in the park, and you will bring me back to life," Laila suggested in a sugary sweet voice.
- I'm already rushing! Say the address!
Laila dictated the name of the park.
Zubeyir flew on a date as if on wings. Laila loves him and he has the opportunity to help his beloved. He will do whatever she asks and prove his love! And then he will get down on one knee and ask to marry him! How well they will live the three of them. He, Laila, and his mother.
***
The spring evening was warm and quiet. Iplikci decided to dine in the open area of one of the restaurants in Ulus Park. Delicious food, fresh air, beautiful views of the Golden Horn. The evening Istanbul acted as the best antidepressant and took away the tiredness and worries of the past day. They let go of them easily and let joy take the vacant place. Omer was full of jokes and enjoyed his Defne's bursting laughter. She was laughing, and he felt happy.
- Aren't you cold? - He asked when Defne, staring at the evening lights, put her arms around her shoulders.
She gave him a beaming smile and shook her head.
- No. Today is such a warm evening. As if not the middle of March, but April.
"Yes, you're right." Omer's face became serious. - Did you warned that the day after tomorrow you won't go to work?
Defne smiled at him and lightly touched his clenched fist with her fingers. When it relaxed, she turned his palm up and, putting her hand in it, replied:
- Yes. Mr. Kartal and Laura can handle it without me. And I will be with you. All day and evening.
- Thank you, - Omer kissed her hand, and again a smile blossomed on his face. - Let Mr. Kartal get used to coping alone. When the bead is born, you won't be able to visit the office as often as you do now.
- You know, I've been thinking about an idea for a long time.
"Tell me," Omer asked briskly.
- To move to the office that was once Sherie's meeting room. It is big. I can turn part of it into a nursery. And then Emine can be with me in Sapphire while I work.
- Great idea! - Omer sincerely supported her and thought. Not leaving your daughter when going to work is a dream. And dreams need to be realized. He kissed his wife on the top of the head and said: - Let's do it! You are a smart girl. By the way, it's time to do the nursery at home. Only three months left before the birth.
- I am for it, - Defne was delighted.
- Then let's go shopping on Saturday. Let's see everything we need.
- Oh! - Defne pressed her palms to her cheeks. - I already want Saturday! Just a warning - I can get carried away! So your mission will be to stop me.
"It's unlikely that I will succeed," Omer replied to her tone. - I can get carried away too.
"I also need to buy two dresses. Next week are the presentations of Tranba and Passionis. I want to be beautiful!
- You are always beautiful, - Omer touched her cheek and straightened the curl that was out of her hair, which the wind played so enthusiastically. - But we will buy dresses. The best.
Defne bit her lip and her eyes began to play with laughter. How good it is to be the wife of a loving and generous man! And then her gaze settled on a walking couple. She frowned and pointed at them to Omer:
- Darling, look! Is this Zubeyir? It turns out he has a girlfriend.
Omer looked around. The couple had already passed the restaurant and headed for the exit. The girl's face was not visible. It was hidden by a patch of dark brown hair. But the guy next to her was just beaming with happiness.
- Exactly Zubeyir, - confirmed Omer. - I'm glad for him. It's time for the guy to get married.
***
The next morning, Omer stood near the glass partition in his office and gazed thoughtfully at the room beyond it. Behind his back, Nazlican and Kivanch were removing chlorophytums from sight. The flowers, of course, was not to blame, but Omer did not want even the slightest reminder of Laila.
- Mr. Omer - the assistant said. "We'll put the flowers on my counter for now, and then we'll decide where they will fit."
- Okay, Nazlican. Thanks! - Omer thanked her. - I have a request for you - find a good decorator with impeccable recommendations.
- Do you want to change the interior? - Nazlican asked smilingly.
"Something like that, '' he replied evasively and turned to Sinan's thunderous greeting that swept through the office.
- Buenos diaz, Passionis!!!
Not even a minute had passed when the partner, beaming with a wide smile, appeared at the threshold of his office, where he ran into Nazlican. Skipping her, he winked at the girl and asked:
"Have you decided that watering the flowers in the boss's office is tiring and better to get rid of them?"
- This is what Mr. Omer wanted - Nazlican answered in tone and closed the door behind her.
- You have decided not to let even a piece of Laila's spirit here? - falling into a chair, the friend asked cheerfully.
"Exactly," Omer confirmed and tapped his fingers on the glass. - How do you look at the fact that I will turn the office behind the glass into a children's room and replace this partition with a sliding door.
- What? Sinan inhaled awkwardly in surprise and coughed. - You know how to stun! Do, of course, if it is convenient for you.
"It will, it will," Omer promised, and his lips curved into a smile that could hardly be called anything other than affectionate.
- Holy heaven! - The friend was indignant. - Omer, we have a presentation on the nose, and you are dreaming about something incomprehensible!
- Wait, wait, your wife will get pregnant, then I will see what you will dream about, - said Omer. - By the way, how are you doing with Seda? Did you make up?
- Uh-huh, - answered Sinan and at the top of his voice began humming something cheerful and triumphant.
"Be ashamed," Omer chided him. - You can't demonstrate your jubilation so clearly. What will employees think?
- I'm happy! - Not at all embarrassed Sinan and began to bend his fingers on his hand. - Judge for yourself! Sude is gone! Nisa has only the flu and no relapse! Seda believed me and the wedding will take place on time! At the end of the week, we have a presentation of a collection that promises to be the best in the history of Passionis! You got rid of the snake that was hiding under the mask of your assistant! Defne will give you a baby soon! Well, aren't we lucky?!
- Lucky ones! - laughing, agreed on Omer.
- Ta-da-da-dam! - The concept director appeared on the threshold in a picture pose. - What can I tell you! This is a bomb! Bomb! You will now faint from happiness! You will carry me in your arms and thank Allah for giving you the brains to make Koray Sargin director!
- Koray, say it quick! What happened! Tell me, come on! "Sinan ordered.
- Just use short phrases. No distraction - added Omer.
- Catalog! Koray said.
- What, a catalog? - The partners asked with one voice.
- Became the best!
- Where!
- Ay, what are you shouting! - Koray was indignant. – You ordered me yourself - in short phrases! Our latest catalog is recognized as the best spring collection concept in Europe! - Omer and Sinan froze with open mouths and bulging eyes. - Off, don't look like that! And close your mouths, or the flies will fly. Better tell me that I am a genius, and you are lucky! Very!!!
"Koray, you are a genius, and we are lucky, " Sinan repeated after him, and then he laughed and hit Omer on the shoulder. - Brother! We are definitely lucky.
***
Zubeyir, happy to the point of stupidity, entered the office. The first thing he saw was the flowers from Mr. Omer's office. The ones Laila bought for him. Now they stood forlornly at the reception desk and waited for their fate.
- Nazlican, why are these flowers here? He asked cautiously.
- Mr. Omer ordered to remove them from his office. I'm wondering where to put them.
- Can I have them? The programmer asked. - To the server room.
- You still asking! - Nazlican was delighted. - Take them! One less headache for me.
Zubeyir took a flower in each hand and went to his room. There he put them on the table and carefully watered them from a bottle of drinking water.
"Darling," he muttered. "I won't let your flowers die. I will take care of them and you. Now let's do what you asked me to do.
Defne worked on the sketches. She brought to life images inspired by Polynesia and the paradise island of Bora Bora. When Zubeyir suddenly showed up to her and said that he needed to update her e-mail, she, to put it mildly, was not happy. But, silently giving him the laptop, tablet, and phone, she sat down on the sofa. Zubeyir did not work on her gadgets long. After a couple of minutes, he said that everything was ready and left.
The same thing was repeated in Omer Iplikci's office. He too, busy putting the finishing touches on the design of Jansu Baisal's wedding shoes, did not pay attention to what the programmer was doing with his e-mail.
- Everything is ready, Mr. Omer! - Zubeyir bravely reported and hurried to get out of the office.
The boss looked after him thoughtfully and muttered:
- Look what love does to people. The guy is flying.
Zubeyir returned to his room and called Laila.
- Darling, I did what you asked. Removed from the e-mails of Mr. Omer and Defne the letter with the sketch " Starry Night. "
- Excellent, dear, - Laila answered in a sugary sweet voice. - And now change the date of registration of the sketch in the database for tomorrow.
"Just a minute," the programmer answered boastfully. - Laila, will we meet today? You know, I told my mom about you, and she really wants to get to know you.
- Of course, my love! Laila assured him. - But maybe another time? And today we'll have a romantic date. Alone. We will rent a room at a hotel, and we will only be together.
Zubeyir caught his breath. His look got dizzy, and all thoughts disappeared from his head.
- Yes! Yes, my love. I promise I will make this date the best!
- That's agreed. I'll write to you about where we will meet. Bye!
- See you, my life!
Drunk with anticipation, he put his phone aside and entered Sapphire's database via remote access. He found the sketch he needed and changed the date.
***
Alina, smiling, looked through the door, and sang:
- Mirai, Mr. Kartal is calling you! In fifteen minutes. With a report on purchases and sales for the current month.
- Thank you, Alina, - Mirai raised her head from the report and smiled back at her. - I am just finishing it. I'll be there on time.
- AND! I forgot one more! Some woman phoned, called herself your childhood friend and said that she had important information for you. I gave her your mobile.
- Good.
Mirai frowned, but Alina had already disappeared, and the door slammed shut.
Childhood friend? Who could it be? For some reason, her soul became anxious. But Mirai threw away the unpleasant thoughts and began to work on the report.
The phone rang a couple of minutes later. The number on the screen was unknown, but the voice in the speaker was very familiar. From it, frost went down the spine, and the heart fell into the heels.
- Hi, - Hazal Chatay greeted.
"Hi," Mirai answered warily. - Frankly, I did not expect your call at all. Are we not enemies?
- In some ways, you are right - the voice was stringy and low. She felt nausea in the throat, but Mirai listened to it with gritted teeth. "But, you see, your mother left you a letter and some jewels before she died. And she handed them over to me because your father did not even want to hear your name.
The heart leaped to her throat, and the pulse pounded in the temples. Mama. Mirai still could not come to terms with the fact that she was refused to say goodbye to her and see her last journey. She swallowed a lump in her throat and asked:
- And you just now decided to give them to me? In five years?
"You'd think I had your phone number or address. How could I contact you? Now I found out where you work, and I am calling you...
- Where are we gonna meet? - interrupted her tirade Mirai.
"Come to my office," Hazal ordered and dictated the address.
- Okay, I'll come within an hour.
As soon as Mirai entered the office of Mr. Kartal, he felt that something was wrong. The woman was pale and depressed. He went up to meet her and asked:
- What happened? Has someone offended you?
She lowered her eyes and, shaking her head, answered:
- No, everything is okay. But I have to go away for an hour. Is it possible?
- Sure. Should I drive you? - He offered his services, but Mirai refused again:
- No. It's not far here, and I will take a taxi. Here is the report...
- Don't worry, I'll figure it out. Go about your business.
He smiled at her, and she felt better. Their secret, late love, became her salvation. Warmed her soul and gave as much happiness as she did not know in her entire life. They were in no hurry to tell others about it. Both had a fear inside that they could cripple it, trample. Therefore, in public, they behaved like strangers. But it was worth staying alone, and their tenderness did not have an end. Even now, Kartal hugged her carefully and looked into her eyes.
"If I can do something to help," he said, "just tell me.
She smiled gently at him and replied:
- You already helped. I am going. See you.
- See you.
***
Mirai arrived at the indicated address and approached the guard. He checked her name with the one in the list of visitors and let her into the office. The receptionist took her to Mrs. Hazal's office. Smiling politely, she announced that the lady was at a meeting and asked to wait for a few minutes. Mirai thanked the girl and sat down on a chair.
The office was spacious and flashy-chic. Upholstered furniture upholstered in light leather, an expensive carpet on the floor, silk curtains, crystal, and gilding on decorative elements. But in all this pomp, there was no soul, and the atmosphere seemed stifling. Mirai glanced nervously at her watch and pulled the collar of her blouse with her index finger.
And in the next office, husband and wife Chatay were staring at the laptop screen.
- Well, dear, - Hussein rubbed his hands contentedly. - Cameras recorded her arrival and the fact that she remained alone in your office. Also, there are witnesses - a security guard and a secretary. The sketch was entered into our database yesterday. The sketch creation date in the Sapphire database has been changed. Your "friend" was hit in full. Even the best lawyer will not be able to remove suspicions of theft from her. It remains for us to start making the Starry Night set, which will drown Sapphire.
"Sounds like a song," Hazal replied with a triumphant smile. - And after we turn the case, can we remove this impudent girl? Laila? I do not like her.
- What a question? Your desire is the law, my love. I only want to know. Is this letter from Mirai's mother and the jewelry real? Or a good fake?
- Real - the wife answered angrily. - She called me a few days before her death and tearfully begged me to hand them over to Mirai and the children.
"But you weren't going to do that?"
- Of course not! It was another act of revenge on her - not saying goodbye to her mother and not knowing her last thoughts and desires.
"You are cruel," Hussein grinned cynically.
- Did you just find out? - Hazal chuckled mockingly. - Do you see what I sacrifice for the Turkish gold?
Hazal entered her office. Mirai rose to meet her. Proudly straightening her shoulders, she silently waited for the further actions of her ex-girlfriend. Hazal went to her desk, took out a brown paper bag from the drawer, and handed it to Mirai.
- Here you go. And remember my kindness. I might not have given it. Nobody knows about them anyway.
- Thank you, - taking the package, Mirai answered shortly and left the office.
Tears choked her. When did the sweet girl she knew from childhood turn into a monster? What or who made her like this? And why does she hate her so much?
***
Zubeyir was almost jumping up and down to a small hotel in the Beykoz area. Hormones and love drove him on. Today, finally, what he dreamed of will come true.
The receptionist said that a girl had already taken the room key and was waiting for him. He walked down the long corridor to the desired room. The soft carpet muffled his footsteps. At the very door, he stopped, took a breath, and gently pressed the doorknob. The door quietly opened, and he saw Laila sitting with her back to him on the bed. She was speaking on the phone:
- Yes, I'm at the hotel. He should come soon.
***
Mirai returned home. The girls were playing in the yard, and Mert had not yet returned from the computer courses he had attended for several months. It was quiet in the apartment. Mirai went slowly into the living room, sat on the sofa, and opened the package. In it lay a yellowed sheet of paper folded in half and a flat, velvet-covered box. Mirai took them in her hands and began to cry.
***
Omer and Defne arranged a party. Lit candles and a fire in the fireplace and spread a blanket. The low table was lined with goodies. There were strawberries, whipped cream, melted chocolate, cheese. White wine in tall glasses. Defne decided that she could take a couple of small sips. It's not every day that your photo session is recognized as the best in Europe.
Omer sat down on the floor and pulled her towards him. She nestled snugly between his bent knees and put her head back onto his white shirt-covered chest. He raised his glass to her lips, and Defne took a sip.
- How delicious! When I give birth and stop breastfeeding Emine, I'll come off and drink a whole bottle.
Omer turned her face back to him and, looking into her eyes, suggested:
- Can we divide it into two? To make you drunk, but not fall asleep. And I will finally satisfy my old fantasy - I will drag a drunken and unrestrained Defne into bed.
Her eyes widened at his words, and her cheeks flushed.
- Do you have such fantasies?
"Yeah," he smiled slyly with one corner of his mouth.
- And since when?
- Since the evening when you tasted wine at my friend Alp's restaurant.
The blush became burgundy.
- Omer! But then we ... even... oh, Allah! What thoughts were wandering in your head! Omer laughed infectiously at her embarrassment. She pushed him in the side and ordered, offended, "Don't laugh! You completely turned my understanding of our relationship!
"You really thought that before our apple night, I had not desired you," Omer was surprised now.
"Uh-huh," Defne confirmed.
- How wrong you were! I wanted you already when I kissed you near Mano.
- Oh, Gods! What have you, poor thing, endured? Almost a year!
"And don't tell me," Omer agreed, and both laughed together.
Then Omer fed his wife strawberries, alternately dipping them in cream and chocolate, and kissing her sweet lips. And she melted in his hands and closed her eyes to remember these moments and hide them forever in the bins of memory.
It seemed that there was no limit to the happiness, but one thought still did not give her rest and sat like a nail in her head.
"Omer," she asked. - Do you think we got rid of Laila forever? Will she never appear on our horizon again?
- Never! - He promised. - You can throw her out of your head and forget what her name was! Laila disappeared into oblivion.
"Sounds like music," Defne sighed lightly and kissed her husband on the lips.