Omer, remembering how many times over the past couple of weeks causeless tears rolled on Defne's face, pulled himself together, and entered the room confidently and calmly. Putting the apple on the bedside table, he sat down next to his wife and took her hand. He removed the red hair behind the ears, wiped the tears from her face, and asked:

- My soul, what is wrong with you? Is something hurting you?

She shook her head and, sitting up in bed, impulsively hugged him. She pressed her head to such a dear and reliable chest and answered in a trembling voice:

- Omer, I'm afraid!

- What are you afraid of? - he carefully, as a child covered her with his big hands.

Defne raised her tear-stained face, distorted by fear, and Omer realized that her tears were not a whim.

- The doctor said that the term is about five weeks. So - it happened on the island...

She fell silent and sighed frantically.

- And? - Still not understanding Omer rushed her for an answer.

"After the island, there was the attack from Talat," tears rolled down from amber eyes. - And if he hurt the baby? - She pressed her hands to her stomach and screamed frantically: - If something happens to him, I won't survive it! He is my little, precious...

"Shhh," Omer's hair stood on end in fear, and anxiety tightly bound the insides in a knot, but he controlled himself. Defne needs care and support, which means that he should never give in to panic. Clutching her head to his chest, he spoke confidently and softly: - Do not worry. The baby feels your tears, and he feels bad too. I will call a doctor now and we will explain the situation to him.

The doctor came in a few minutes. He behaved professionally, but Omer noticed how, as they spoke of the attack, the wrinkle between his eyebrows deepened. After listening to the patient, he encouragingly patted her hand and reassured:

"Signora Defne, I'm sure everything is in order with your child." Yes, you experienced great stress and the first trimester of pregnancy is dangerous in terms of miscarriages, but since this did not happen, then your child is a fighter and is determined to come into this world.

- Is it true? - Defne looked at him as a messiah. "But is there any way to verify this?"

- Of course! The simplest and most accurate is to do an ultrasound scan. But here is a small problem. Today, Sunday and such studies are conducted only in emergency cases. We'll have to wait until morning. But I can say with confidence 99% percent that everything is in order with the baby.

"One percent is a lot ...," Defne answered quietly and turned to the window.

The doctor only shrugged, advised to believe in the best, and left. Defne covered her stomach with her hands and leaned back on the pillow. She looked in front of her blindly, in her head appeared the picture of the attack, and made her heart contract with fear. Here she runs away. Kivanc overtakes her, and she falls on the cold concrete of the roof. He piles on top of her and painfully pressed into it with his heavy body. Defne pressed her palms to her face, and then returned them to her stomach - protecting the tiny one that grew in her. Omer sat beside her and laid a palm on her hands.

"Don't worry," he asked. Inside, everything trembled with fear, but he smiled and spoke with absolute certainty: - Everything is fine with him. He is warm and comfortable now. He rejoices and wants only one thing from mommy - that she smiles and eats well.

Defne forced a tormented smile from herself, which did not touch her eyes and promised:

- I will try to.

She tried very hard. She didn't cry. She didn't get hysterical. Not locked in itself. She spoke with Omer, answered questions from medical staff, and even ate an apple and lunch delivered from a restaurant. But inside her, it burned. The fear was so strong that the chest constricted with a spasm and at times it was difficult to breathe. At such moments, she looked at Omer and felt it became easier. And he did not leave her a single moment. He held her hand, stroking her hair, chatting about trifles. If only the minutes ran faster and soon morning came.

Toward evening, the doctor allowed Omer to pick up his wife from the hospital. But with the condition that in the morning she will come for an ultrasound scan. Defne did not need to be reminded of this. She waited for the morning like a prisoner - freedom.

Omer helped her put on a jacket and, refusing the help of a nurse and a wheelchair, carried her to the car in his arms.

Near the house, she asked him to linger a little and breathe fresh air. He carried her to the gazebo. Having conveniently situated her on a bench, he brought a blanket from the house. He wrapped her and asked:

- Are you feeling warm? Defne nodded. - Do you want some tea?

- Yes, please.

She wanted, strong and burning hot tea. So that it warmed her soul and drove the cold inside. And when Omer brought the cups over which the steam rose densely, Defne wrapped her palms around it and closed her eyes. She imagined that this heat penetrates in her blood through the skin and reached to the baby. Warms and gives him a sense of miracle.

It is not true that he is still so small that he does not understand anything. Understands. And feels her love. She will cherish him and protect him. Like a tigress. She will never leave and will not allow the baby to feel alien and unloved.

If only everything was good with him!

A warm hand touched her face and Defne opened her eyes. Omer looked at her and in his eyes, like in a mirror, she saw a reflection of her feelings. She felt better. She is not alone. Omer is nearby. He will not let anything bad happen.

Defne could not sleep. She looked at the black, without a single star, the sky above her head and thought, though.

The night, as usual, exaggerated and intensified fears. Defne tried to drove them away from her, but they stubbornly returned and tormented her with their directness.

- Honey, why aren't you sleeping? Omer asked quietly.

His hand on her stomach moved and gently stroked it. Defne covered his hand with hers and also quietly asked her question:

- And you?

He got up, turned on the night lamp, and, leaning оn his elbow, leaned toward her face.

- To fall asleep? - asked. "How can I, when thoughts and fears torment you?"

"But don't they torment you?" - She did not look at him and her quiet voice was hoarse and deaf.

"They torment me," he answered honestly. "But I know that everything is fine with the baby."

"How can you know?" - and again the tears rolled from her eyes.

Defne brushed them away and sighed frantically. She can't cry. The baby feels bad when she cries.

Omer turned her face to himself. Looking into the eyes with firm confidence said:

- I know! And you know. He is healthy and happy," Omer put his hand under her pajama blouse and spread it on her bare stomach. "He's fine here." The best place in the world to grow from a cell into a little man. Therefore, dear, calm down, and trust the doctor and me. Good?

Defne nodded. But when Omer lay down beside her and no longer looked into her eyes, she spoke:

"I keep thinking, and if Mert hadn't seen where I had gone ... and you hadn't come in time ..." she frantically inhaled air, "and now we wouldn't know whose child it is ..."

- Our child! In any case, he would have been ours," Omer interrupted. - Do not poison your soul with such thoughts. Mert is smart. And I was on time. This is the reality, love. Do not strain your head with stupid thoughts. And try to sleep. Tomorrow will be a new day...

- Rather, I wish it had come.

Omer turned off the lamp and pulled Defne to him. He hugged her and whispered in her hair:

- Close your beautiful eyes. And when you open - it will be morning.

She complied with his request. She closed her eyes and drove away evil thoughts.

But they did not go far. They circled on the border of consciousness and made her sleep superficial and disturbing. She shuddered and each time through half-asleep she felt the gentle and soothing strokes of his strong hands. A velvet voice whispered something soothing in her ear and she calmed down.

And Omer did not sleep. He listened to the quiet breathing and carefully guarded the sleep of his Defne.

***

Transparent gel chilled the skin of the abdomen. Defne was lying on the couch and did not take her eyes off the gynecologist, a pleasant middle-aged woman. A few minutes ago she examined her and was doing an ultrasound scan. Omer stood nearby and held his wife's hand. He seemed the embodiment of calm and confidence, but inside he trembled with worry.

The doctor smiled encouragingly at the patient and pressed the sensor to her stomach. The eyes of Defne and Omer stuck to the monitor screen. There, amid a gray flicker, an elongated bead-sized dot appeared. Both sighed and the same touchingly admiring smiles appeared on their lips.

The doctor calmly continued her work. Holding the sensor, she took the necessary measurements and carefully examined the tiny bead. Defne and Omer forgot to breathe. They just watched and prayed furiously to Allah. The doctor looked up at the future parents and smiled:

"Your child is fine." He is healthy and well developed.

Her words seemed to burst the dark shell and the world was painted with rainbow light. Relief covered both. Defne raised her face to Omer, radiant with joy. Tears glistened in his eyes. He was not shy about them. He looked at his wife and smiled a happy smile.

"See! I told you! He is healthy and happy! " shouted his eyes.

"I see! - answered hers. - Healthy and happy! Is there anything better?"

- Do you want to hear the heartbeat of your child? The doctor asked, and both nodded amicably. She touched the keyboard and there was a knock from the speaker. It was clear, strong, and frequent. The best sound in the world, which finally dispelled all fears and concerns.

"Doctor, is everything okay?" Defne asked in a hoarse voice.

- Things are good! She assured. - But, given your recent coma, the stress experienced during the attack and, as a result, yesterday's deep swoon, I would advise you a week of bed rest. Good food, a positive attitude, and no shocks.

"Good, doctor," Omer agreed immediately. - Everything will be done exactly by your words. What about the flight? We have tickets for a two-hour flight to Istanbul.

- You can fly. Our administrator will call the airport and ask them to provide you comfort. You will be taken through a VIP terminal and provided with a wheelchair for transporting patients.

"Thank you, doctor," Omer thanked. - What other recommendations will you have?

- The most common. When the week of bed rest ends - walks in the fresh air, gymnastics for pregnant women, vitamins, and more positive emotions. Avoid hot water baths and do not lift anything heavy. And two weeks of abstinence from sex.

- Only two? - Defne was surprised and immediately blushed and covered her mouth with her hand.

Omer, hiding a grin, pressed his lips together, and stroked her shoulder.

"Two will be enough," the doctor smiled. She liked the shyness and sweet embarrassment of this girl. In today's world, this is such a rarity. - The fifth or sixth week is the most critical. Therefore, you need to beware. After that, you can live an ordinary life.

The blush on Defne's cheeks became even thicker. Talking about such things with strangers is very uncomfortable. And with her husband here. She glanced embarrassedly at him, but in his gaze were only tenderness and boundless happiness. Defne sighed and took a napkin. She wiped the gel from her stomach and adjusted her clothes, she wanted to get up, but the woman held her hand:

- Lie down for a few minutes. I will now make an extract for your Istanbul doctor.

She left the room and the Iplikci spouses were left alone. As soon as the door closed, Omer sat on the bed and held out his hands to Defne. She drowned in his arms. So strong and confident arms in which nothing is scary.

They laughed with relief and happiness. Their baby is all right. The most important, most needed, most wonderful words in the world. He will be born. Healthy and beautiful. Golden child, their miracle and joy.

"What do you think," asked Defne, pressing her forehead to Omer's temple, "is he a boy or a girl?"

"It doesn't matter," he answered, stroking her shoulders and back. "It doesn't matter at all!" The main thing is that he is! We will love equally a daughter or son. Is it truе?

- True! - Defne laughed and stretched her lips to him.

It was a kiss-joy, a kiss-gratitude. For his confidence, for his care, and for the fact that he will equally love son or daughter. And no matter what color they have hair and eyes.

***

Omer had never driven a car so carefully before. Instead of the routine forty minutes, they drove an hour and a half. But Defne was only glad of this. She calmly examined the beauties of autumn Italy, admired the yellowed leaves and small, like toys, villages, which they passed by. She compared them to Turkish and found dozens of differences and as many matches. Italy became her first acquaintance with the vast world outside of Turkey and won her heart completely. Even in Istanbul, Defne knew that she would love it. After all, Omer loved it. But now she understood - she was fascinated by Italy itself. Its soul, in which elegance is intertwined with striking bright colors, and centuries-old traditions and aristocracy with ingenuous good-naturedness and wide smiles of Italians. She fell in love. Once and forever. However, Defne looked at her husband and a touching smile appeared on her face, nothing surprising. She always falls in love once and for all.

- What are you thinking about? - Sensing her gaze, asked Omer.

"We have not left yet, and I already miss Italy."

He found her hand and kissed her slim fingers. He laid it on his hip and assured:

- We will be back. Many many times. We will run here at every opportunity.

- "Will they be?" Possibilities?

- It is a must. One day the three of us will come here. Then the four of us. And maybe five. And our children will love Italy just like us.

Defne believed him. How could it be any different? Their children will also fall in love once and for all.

***

They were already waiting for them at the airport. The employee rolled a special chair to the car and led the Iplikci spouses through the VIP corridor for registration. Omer, leaving Defne in a comfortable waiting room, handed over much luggage, and they even managed to dine in a magnificently small restaurant where a portion of pasta and salad cost more than a banquet for twenty people in a simpler cafe. This Defne hinted to her husband, but Omer was implacable - he would never risk the health and well-being of his wife and their child. Therefore, be kind, eat, and do not grumble.

Defne was comfortable on the plane. Although it was only an hour and a half to fly, her chair was laid out and turned into a small but comfortable bed. Then they brought orange juice and sour candies. Throughout the flight, the stewardess asked her how the lady felt. Madam felt fine. Moreover, the husband was busy all over the flight near her. He straightened her pillow, wrapped her feet in a blanket, laughed at, and softly whispered in her ear various sweet nonsense from which Defne's cheeks flushed with a blush, and her heart trembled sweetly in her chest.

An hour and a half passed like five minutes and the plane landed at Ataturk Airport. A wheelchair was already waiting for Defne near the gangway. An airport employee escorted the spouses through the VIP corridor and assured that their luggage would be delivered to them tomorrow morning.

Sukru was waiting near the car. With his usual, good-natured smile on his face, he greeted the boss and his wife. Defne noticed how Omer exchanged a conspiratorial look with him and immediately demanded an explanation:

- What are you up to?

Omer helped her get out of the chair into the car and, clicking on her nose, winked:

"Madam Defne, is it proper to be so curious?"

- It is decently! - She assured him and turned to the driver: - Brother Sukru, well, at least you do not torture me! Tell me what you have in mind.

"Defne," he answered reproachfully, and shook his head, "don't you know me?"

"How not to know," she narrowed her eyes sly. - But hey! Zehra and I will also talk and will plot secrets against you.

The men looked at each other again.

- Sukru, can we survive this? - Omer asked raising an eyebrow.

"We will try, Mr. Omer," Sukru answered him in tone.

"Try, try," Defne assented sarcastically and, proudly jerking her nose, crossed her arms over her chest. Omer laughed and hugged her shoulders.

- Do not be angry, my soul. There are no secrets. Sukru and I were just joking.

"Something I doubt," said Defne, but bowed her head on his shoulder.

The car raced through the rainy and dreary November Istanbul. The sky lay foggy on the ground and enveloped the city in a dense gray haze. Defne did not immediately realize that the car was traveling in the wrong direction. And guessing, she turned to Omer and asked:

"Aren't we going home?"

"Home," he answered slyly, smiling.

Defne comprehended the answer for a couple of seconds and then threw herself on his neck with a joyful screech. The men laughed.

- Did you understand? - Omer asked hugging her and kissing the warm temple.

She nodded and, beaming, chattered:

- Is it ready? So fast?

- Ready. And waiting for you.

"Us," she corrected.

"Us," he agreed.

The house greeted the owners with a new red door, lanterns lit in the garden, and bright light in all the windows. Defne wanted to jump out of the car and spin on the lawn, and then run through the rooms, touch the walls, and new furniture. But the baby inside made her be prudent. She allowed Omer to pick her up and bring her into their house. The one she fell in love with at first sight. It was cozy, bright, and warm. The kitchen smelled deliciously of stuffed peppers and cinnamon. In the living room - pine logs pilled in the fireplace. Light curtains did not hide the windows, and they cast yellow glare from the bright light of the chandeliers onto the parquet floor. Two rocking chairs stood by the fireplace, beckoning with soft plaid rugs. Seeing them, Defne could not hold back her tears.

- Well, why darling? - Omer kissed her temple. - Don't you dare to cry! Or do you not like it?

"You say that," she answered wiping her tears. - This is from happiness.

- Then let's go see our room.

- Carry me up! Defne agreed.

She just fell in love with the bedroom. It was simple, painted pastel-tender colors. Such, where nothing distracted attention from the main thing - from each other. There were a huge bed and a dressing table with a mirror in an old frame.

"So is it how you wanted it?" - asked Omer and Defne exhaled:

- Yes!!! The house is beautiful! Every little thing. How I want to walk through all the rooms!

"You will succeed," Omer smiled. "You will still have plenty of time for this." And now we need to make you comfortable and feed you.

"And a shower," Defne asked embarrassedly smiling.