Fikret entered the office and stopped at the threshold. Defne, folding her arms over her chest, stood by the window and looked at Istanbul bathing in the winter sun rays. Hearing the sound of the door closing, she looked around.

"Good morning," the girl quietly greeted.

"Good morning," Defne replied, staring at her face.

Fikret looked strange. Pale and detached. The feverish light that had burned in her eyes for the past few weeks had gone. Her glance acquired clarity and depth. She was silent, and Defne spoke first:

- Alina said - you want urgently to talk with me. I am listening to you.

"I came to ask you for forgiveness," Fikret spoke in her cold voice.

Defne raised her eyebrows in surprise.

- Аbout what?

- For the story with the letter. For my harassment on Omer. For the stinging ridicule to you. "And for wanting to kill you and your child," she added mentally.

Defne was amazed. But she didn't show it. Remaining calm and collected, she answered:

"Fikret, I don't know what made you suddenly change your mind." And to be honest, I don't want to know. Your apologies are accepted. I do not hold anger on you. But I beg you - leave us, Omer and me, alone. We do not want our orbits to intersect.

Fikret looked sadly into Defne's wary eyes and nodded her head.

- I understand. Don't worry, after the charity evening, I will leave Istanbul. I will work in a village for orphans. I decided to devote my life to them.

- A noble decision.

"You don't believe that I can be noble?" - In the voice of Fikret sounded bitterness.

"I believe," Defne answered without hesitation. She went to the table and began to sort out papers on it. Not looking at the uninvited guest, reasonably continued to say: - In every person, there is both good and bad. It depends only on him on which side he will choose. If you have chosen the side of goodness and nobility, I am only glad for this.

- Mom helped me to choose.

Defne shot her a surprised look.

- Your mother? - asked again. "But she is dead."

- Yes. At my birth. All my life, I thought that no one needs and no one loves me. And yesterday my grandmother gave me her diary. I read, - tears glistened in Fikret's eyes - and realized that they loved me. She loved me more than life, and these are not just words. Mom sacrificed herself so that I could be born.

Tears rolled down her cheeks, but the girl did not notice them. In Defne's chest, pity embraced her heart. She could no longer remain indifferent.

- Was your mother sick? - asked sympathetically.

- Yes. Severe diabetes. Now medicine has stepped forward, but twenty-seven years ago, for such patients, the desire to have a child became a sentence. Doctors did everything possible, but a miracle did not happen.

"I'm sorry," Defne said sincerely. Her hand instinctively covered her stomach. "But, I understand your mother."

"Because you are as bright a soul as she was ... Now I understand why people like you love so selflessly." With all their heart until the last minute.

Defne looked incredulously. Is this Fikret? Although, once upon a time, when they first met, she was like that. Magnanimous and ready to help.

"People love not for something ... but because they fall in love." Just the planets converge. It is fate.

"No," Fikret disagreed. - People love someone because one heart is attracted to another. Warm heart. It recognizes it between thousand. But, unfortunately, not always that, another heart reciprocates. And there is no one's fault.

"I'm glad you realized that."

-So do I.

An awkward silence hung in the office. All words said, secrets revealed, and idle chatter was not appropriate.

"I guess I'm holding you back," Fikret said. - Goodbye. Thank you for listening.

She went to the door, but Defne stopped her.

- Wait! - Fikret looked around. "You said your grandmother gave you the diary." If she is alive, why did you consider yourself useless and unloved?

Fikret smiled sadly.

- Because mom was very beloved. Grandmother could not come to terms with her death. And dad, buried himself alive. It happens. The mistake of one, the wrong choice of the second, breaks the life of the whole family - having finished the phrase, she again moved to the exit.

Again Defne stopped her.

"Fikret," the girl froze but did not look back. "Your mother made the right choice."

"Thank you," she answered and went out the door.

Defne went to the chair and sat on the edge. She looked thoughtfully in front of her, and then tore off and ran to the top floor. Nodding to Derya, without knocking, she burst into Omer's office. He stood by the window and spoke on the phone. Defne walked up to him, hugged his waist and pressed her cheek to his back. Without stopping the conversation, Omer covered her palms with his free hand and squeezed lightly. Defne's face lit up with a soft smile.

Hastily saying goodbye to his interlocutor, Omer turned to his wife. Taking her chin, he raised her face to himself and looked into her eyes.

- What happened? - asked in alarm.

"I missed you," she answered.

Omer smiled. Covering her nape with a large palm, he pressed her head to his chest and kissed the top of hеr hair.

"Kitten," he said gently. - Come to me.

Defne trustingly rubbed her cheek against the soft layer of his gray jacket.

- How do you smell so good? When I breathe in your scent, all the problems fade into the background.

"So, is there a problem?" - Omer pulled away and, raising an eyebrow inquiringly, looked into her face. Defne answered with an uncertain grimace. "So, let's sit down, and you will tell me everything," he ordered and led his wife to two armchairs facing each other. Having seated her in one, he sank into another, took her cold hands in his hands and ordered:

- Tell me.

- Fikret came to me.

- What? Cried, Omer. "She upset you again?" No, this woman does not understand the human language. I have to act differently...

- Shhh! - interrupted his angry tirade Defne. "She didn't want to upset me." She came to apologize.

- To apologize?! He got angry. "Let her shove her apologies ..."

- Omer! - She looked at him reproachfully, and then smiled and gently touched the black stubble of his beard. - Take it easy. Sometimes people make mistakes, and then repent of them and ask for forgiveness.

"And what made Fikret repent?" - Omer asked with an evil mockery. "Maybe because I warned about breaking all Passionis's contacts with her after the charity show?"

"No," Defne tried to stay calm, "she was convinced by her mother's diary, which many years later fell into her hands.

Omer got to his feet and began to measure the office in broad steps. Defne looked wary. She knew this habit of his and the fact that it means the boiling point of his anger. He stopped in front of her and, angrily flashing his eyes, asked:

- My love, how can one be so naive? She told you an improbable story, and you believed her!

Defne turned pale. She rose to her feet and looked at Omer with a look from which his anger instantly subsided.

- You're right. I am naive, trusting, and too easy I forgive insults. But I don't know another way. Have a good day.

She went to the door. Omer caught up with her in two steps and held her by the shoulders.

"Sorry, I said such stupidity," he said with sincere repentance. Defne silently removed his hands and moved on. "Are we going to quarrel over Fikret?" Omer shouted into her back.

Holding the doorknob, she looked around and answered:

"Not because of Fikret ...," and left the office.

Omer nervously ruffled his hair and exhaled!

"And when will you learn to keep your anger within a frame and not splash it on others?" - Sarcastically asked his inner voice. "Okay, basically, you were right, but couldn't that be said softer?"

Omer moved toward the door, but then stopped. You need to cool yourself and give Defne time to calm down. And then talk calmly and thoroughly. Did Fikret apologize? Perfectly! Let his beloved, precious wife forgive her and forget her name. Never, for anything, and in no way will Fikret Galo be in their life!

Holding back the urge to rush to Sapphire, immediately dot all and make peace, Omer sat at the table and, loading himself with work, endured steadfastly for several hours before lunch. As soon as the two hands of the clock converged at twelve, he raised, put his coat, and hurried to Sapphire.

But Defne was not there. The young secretary answered to his question: "Where is the lady-boss?" that she, together with Ms. Laura and Ms. Seda, went to lunch.

Omer cursed through gritted teeth. Clarifying their relationship in front of outsiders is the worst thing you can think. He will have to wait. He went downstairs and went outside. Looking for the baby-yellow car of Seda, he laid his hands behind his back and froze like a statue.

That's just waiting was never his strong side. Instead of calming down, he became even more nervous and angry. Remaining calm outwardly, it boiled inside like a tightly closed pot with soup over high heat. And when the yellow car stopped at the parking lot, the soup threatened to tear off the lid and splash out with a hissing fountain.

- Girls, I'm sorry! After lunch, deal without Defne. We have urgent business with her.

The wife looked at him with eyes wide with amazement and opened her mouth to be indignant, from such impudence but meeting his eyes blazing with dark fire, closed it, and silently followed Omer to the Mercedes parked in the parking lot.

Having informed Sukru that he would drive the car, Omer ordered him to go home. He helped Defne to get into the car, personally fastened her seat belt, went around the car and got behind the wheel.

- Where are we going? - Dared to ask Defne when the car went on the road and rushed off towards the Bosphorus.

"Walking in the woods," he answered impassively.

"Omer, it's cold, and I don't have clothes suitable for walking," she objected.

He glanced at her legs, covered in thin tights and shod in elegant suede ankle boots, and turned sharply in the other direction.

- And now to where? - Defne was even more confused.

- To a hotel.

- Where? - Her amazement knew no bounds. "Omer, why do we need a hotel if we have a beautiful house?"

He silently steered to an old six-story building and stopped the car. Only then he turned to her and answered:

- We will not quarrel and sort things out at home - this is, firstly.

- And secondly? - Defne asked sarcastically.

- And secondly - I do not want to do this with witnesses. This hotel has walls like a fortress. So that you can scream at me as much as you like.

- And why did you decide that I'm going to yell at you? – A dark red eyebrow arched in a perfect arc. Omer stroked it with a finger and answered:

"Because I want it." Your silence, for half a day, was enough for me. Shout, let off steam, then we make peace and forget.

While Defne was digesting his words, he got out of the car, went around it and opened the door of the passenger seat. He helped his wife go out and, without releasing her hands, took her to the hotel. She did not have time to look around, when Omer paid for the room, took the keys from the receptionist, and, in no time, both were in the elevator.

It, like the building itself, breathed antiquity - polished wood panels, dark green velvet, and bronze mirrors. But puzzled by the behavior of her husband, Defne did not notice this magnificence. She still did not understand what they were doing and why. This escape from work, an old hotel, everything was unreal like a dream.

The elevator stopped on the fourth floor and opened its patterned wings in front of them. The corridor ahead was long, echoing, and dimly lit. Lamps recessed into the gray granite walls, cast a dull glare on a dark, patterned parquet. Defne cringed. Beautiful, of course. But somehow creepy. As if in a medieval castle where a ghost is hiding around every corner. Well, Omer chose a place for reconciliation! Reminding of himself, he lightly pushed Defne in the back. She stepped out of the booth and looked around.

"We are here," he pointed to the second door on the right.

The key turned out to be modern. A thin magnetic card that Omer applied to a flickering dot on the door. Pushing it, he motioned Defne to go inside. She walked in and looked around. The room was more like a room in a palace. The walls decorated with gray-pink wallpaper, on the floor were expensive oriental carpets. A crystal chandelier with bronze hooks hangs from the ceiling and floods the room with soft golden light. Narrow windows curtained with heavy velvet curtains. From the same fabric, a bedspread on the big bed. Above its wooden headboard is a wall draped with bright silk.

"Beautiful," Defne said quietly.

Omer silently closed the door and went to her.

- It's warm here. Let's undress," he suggested and reached for the buttons on her coat.

She intercepted his hands and, push them away.

- I can.

Omer frowned but did not object. He threw off his coat, grabbed it, and hung both on a massive, wooden hanger. Having scratched his head with a nervous gesture, he looked at Defne and said:

- Sorry, I was wrong.

- About what? She asked.

- The fact that I flared up.

- Aaaa, that you got angry. Yes, of course.

He was wary. He did not like Defne's tone at all.

- Yes, that I flared up and did not find words softer.

She straightened up and crossed her arms over her chest. Looking him in the eye, she pointedly said:

"One would think that if you had softly called me a gullible fool, it would not have offended me."

Omer choked on such injustice and cried out:

"I did not call you a gullible fool!"

"In other words, but the meaning is the same," Defne retorted quite calmly.

"Beloved, but you must admit, you are too kind and often see only the good in people," he spoke a halftone quieter and walked a step closer. True, he did not dare to touch her. This calmness strained him and made him act more cautiously.

- I agree. What's next?

- Dishonest people use this quality, and you suffer. I'm scared of that!

- Allah Allah! How did I, a poor, miserable naive, survived in the neighborhood?

- Defne, do not overreact! I know that you can fend for yourself. The thing is different - you tend to trust people who do not deserve it.

"And I give a second chance," she prompted helpfully.

- And give a second chance!

Defne turned away and went to the window. Looking at the gray city outside the window, she asked:

- It's interesting, but how can one understand to give a person a second chance or not? What are the signs? How to see - did one sincerely repent of his actions, or did he have his selfish motives? Or maybe not to give? To nobody!

She turned and looked at Omer. He got cold inside. His stomach tightened in а painful spasm. Selfish bastard! After all, he is one of those who had a second chance. And his guilt before Defne is much bigger, and the pain that he brought her is stronger than Fikret's malicious deeds and offensive words.

"Or is possible happiness more important than possible new pain?" She asked the next question softly. - And everyone has the right to forgiveness?

Omer went to her. He embraced her from the back by the shoulders, pressed his cheek to her temple and whispered in repentance:

"Sorry ... I'm a fool."

She turned to face him. She looked into his eyes and smiled softly.

- Accepted. By the way, I told Fikret that she had my forgiveness, but demanded that she leave us alone. And I explained that we do not want our and hers orbits to intersect.

"And what did she answer?"

- She said that after the charity, she is leaving Istanbul for a village for orphans. She wants to dedicate her life to them.

Omer sighed and pressed his forehead to Defne's forehead.

- I am ashamed. Not knowing all the circumstances, accused you of naivety - he fell silent and gently kissed the tip of a small, straight nose. "How can I atone for my guilt?"

Defne bit her lower lip, squinted at the bed, and then looked up slyly at Omer.

"Because you brought me into a room with such a luxurious bed ..."

Omer's eyes lit up with fire.

"Defne," still not believing that he understood correctly, he asked, "you are hinting ..."

She smiled. Omer grabbed her in his arms and circled the room.

"My love, I spoke of redemption, not reward."

Defne laughed and, hugging his neck, whispered in his ear:

"Are you going to make amends or talk?"

Omer put her on her feet, burned her with gaze for an instant, and fell to her lips in a hot, ardent kiss. And then, without taking his eyes off hers, deep and shining, he pulled off the bedspread and threw it onto the floor.

"I'm going to smooth my guilt," replied impudently to her question. - For a long time and sweet. While I have enough strength, - He pushed her to the bed, and together they fell on the snow-white sheets. Omer reached for buttons on a silk blouse. Unbuttoning bowed to her ear and whispered fervently: - And I have a lot of them.

He did not lie. Higher and higher, raising Defne to heaven, he burned in the fire of desire and was reborn even strong and more irresistible. His tenderness knew no bounds. His passion burned with a hot flame, burning the thoughts, but not feelings. They only became sharper and brighter. Turned one soul for two and changed the rhythm of hearts. Defne thought she was seeing paradise.

"Do we have to get dressed?" Defne leaned on her elbow and looked into Omer's face. He lay with his eyes closed, relaxed and handsome, like a god. Slowly lifting his eyelashes, he looked into amber eyes and smiled idly.

- As you want. I paid for the room for a day. We can order dinner and stay here until the morning.

Defne looked around the room and wrinkled her cute little nose.

- Well no! She protested. - Of course, it is beautiful here, but like in a museum. Let's get back to our house.

Omer laughed and smoothed the ruffled red hair of his hooligan.

"My wife is completely devoid of vanity and the pursuit of luxury," he winked, and Defne bloomed with a pleasing smile.

"Why do we need it?" Don't sit there, don't stand there, don't you breathe over it. The house should be cozy, warm, and not luxurious," she thoughtfully scratched her eyebrow with her finger and asked in frustration: "I will never make a lady from high society, right?"

Omer laid her down on the bed in one motion and hung over her, resting on his forearms.

"Why do I need a lady from high society?" A woman should be natural, warm" he glanced at her disheveled hair, the blush on her delicate cheeks, and the pink skin of her breasts. Eyes froze on swollen red lips and lit with fire" - such woman as you...

He pressed a kiss to these lips, and again they forgot about time and space.

***

"So we agreed, the wedding on December 20th?"