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.

***