The worst nightmare has become a reality.

"I will not wake up ..." - a terrible thought flashed through his brain, and his twisted fingers squeezed his head like a vise.

He looked at the pillar of water rising almost to the clouds and heavy, as in slow motion, settling back into the ocean, but he saw Defne. Her radiant eyes, her smile ... her voice rang in his ears:

"And without you, I don't need anything. The stars are not visible without you..."

"I love you..."

"I love ..."

"I am nothing without you ..."

No without him ... no ... No!!!!

- NOT!!!! – his voice broke through the lump and tore his throat. - Defne!!!! Not!!!

On the surface of the water, dark spots began to appear the heads of passengers getting out of the twisted cabin of the plane. Desperate hope gripped Omer. Defne is alive! She couldn't die!

The baby! Another eerie thought pierced his brain, but he strangled it. He needs to find Defne. She is there in the stormy waters of the ocean. Waiting for his help!

He tore off his windbreaker and, throwing it away, dived into the high waves and, cutting them through with powerful strokes, swam to the plane going under the water.

Airport employees were already running to the shore, lifebuoys in hand. Without wasting time, the men threw themselves into the water and followed Omer to the crash site. From the main island, bouncing on the waves, speedboats rushed. Sirens roared and people shouted. The seagulls whined pitifully, and the wind blew strong. The clouds overhead swirled in an ominous, dark, bloody mist. The island paradise turned into hell.

And in this hell, in the darkened water, Omer rushed about near the wing of the plane rearing into the sky. He looked into people's faces and shouted out a single name:

- Defne!!! Defne!!! Defne!!!

Someone clung to him. He hastily handed over the distraught passengers to the rescuers and again with crazy persistence looked for her - his Defne. But she was not on the surface of the water. Omer, gaining full lungs of air, dived into the depths and looked for her there, among the twisted parts of the plane that had fallen to pieces. When the air ran out in the lungs, he surfaced and again, distraught with fear, shouted:

- Defne!!!

She was not there. Was nowhere. Omer did not know how much time had passed, but he understood that not a single person would survive by remaining underwater for so long. Horror was tearing his brain. His throat was hurting. The broken voice turned into a wheeze and repeated over and over:

- Defne!!!

Omer refused to accept the terrible truth - she no longer exists.

There is none of them.

The sky and the ocean took his life...

One of the rescuers swam up to him and, grabbing the collar of his shirt, has not allowed him to dive under the water again. Shaking him, he spoke clearly and demanding:

- Sir, all the passengers who were on board were taken ashore. There is no one else there.

"My wife," Omer croaked, looking at him with maddened eyes. - Brown-eyed, with red hair...

- A girl similar in the description was taken to the airport building. She was unconscious.

Desperate hope lit up in Omer's eyes. Rushing out of the hands of the rescuer, he began to row with all his strength to the shore. Having got out on land, not seeing or noticing the chaos reigning around, he rushed to the airport building. Inside, he grabbed the hand of one of the employees and, panting, asked:

- The girl from the crashed plane ... redhead ... unconscious?

He pointed to the far corner there was a group of paramedics.

- All the wounded were taken there.

Omer ran in the direction indicated. His legs turned into cotton wool. Everything around trembled and doubled. The world seemed unreal, alien, colorless. Terrible. In this ominous gray, a red hair gleamed like a bright spot. Omer rushed to them and fell to his knees in front of the girl lying on the floor. She was covered up to her neck with a foil rescue blanket. The head was turned to the side and the wet hair covered the face. Omer removed them with a trembling hand and screamed with a terrible, hoarse cry.

It was not Defne.

He darted between the wounded lying on the gray granite, looked into faces, and the darkness inside grew thicker and deeper. It absorbed him and pulled him into its icy abyss.

She's not there. There is none of them. Nowhere. Cruel fate did not have mercy on him. Once again, it took away the most beloved, and, as if in mockery, it left him to live.

Why live? For what? He can't! Without her, he cannot...

Tears filled his face, blackened with grief, but Omer did not notice them. He didn't notice anything. Slouching and bowing his head, he left the building and walked towards the ocean. To the damned ocean that took everything from him...

- Omer!

The voice behind him was so warm ... so dear ... Not fully understanding whether it was an illusion or a reality, he slowly raised his head and looked around.

In front of him, just a couple of steps away, stood ... Defne. She was thin, in completely dry clothes, and with red hair scattered over her shoulders. The orange straps of the backpack stand out against the blue windbreaker. The bag strap is thrown over the neck and shoulder, and it herself dangles on the hip. His windbreaker is in her hand lowered along her body. Defne was as he last saw her, the moment she walked out the door of the boarding corridor.

Fearing that he was going crazy, Omer closed his eyes. And when he opened them, Defne stood in the same place and looked at him with a piercing, amber gaze.

He rushed to her. He embraced her with trembling hands, pressed her into himself, groaned, and pressed his cheek to the top of her head. His palms wandered over her back, shoulders ... squeezing the nape ... His face was buried in her hair. Omer closed his eyes, rubbed his cheek against them, and clenched his teeth until gnashing. Defne was here in his arms. Warm. Tangible. Alive. She smelled pungently of leaves, sea, and something else sweet and bitter at the same time. It was her scent. So dear to his heart. It penetrated his chest and drove the darkness and cold from it. Without words he was convinced - Defne is alive! Omer covered her pale face with feverish kisses. She, embracing him with thin, tenacious hands, caught his lips and incoherent words with her dry lips:

- Alive ... Almighty! Alive!

"Alive," she repeated and clung to him with her whole body.

"I thought you were dead," he moaned and squeezed his hands even tighter. "And then... I lost my mind... died..." He pulled back and looked into her face. - But how?

She took his face in her hands and whispered:

- I couldn't ... I couldn't fly away without you, - Omer shook his head in shock and her speech turned into a tongue twister. She was in a hurry to explain, to calm down. - You said, whatever happens in our life, whatever storms come, we will hold on to each other. I remembered these words and realized that I would not get on that plane alone.

- You weren't on the plane? - the meaning of her words finally reached his consciousness and all the puzzles fell into place. Relief surged in a wave and with it аn euphoria. Defne was not on the plane. She was not hurt. The baby was not injured.

"I wasn't," Defne answered. "I stayed in the boarding corridor. When the plane took off, I went into the departure hall. But you were nowhere to be found. I thought that you sailed by boat to the large island and wanted to call, but at that moment there was a strange hum, a blow, and someone screamed that the plane had fallen into the water. The panic began. I ran out into the street. Only the wing of an airplane peeped out of the water...

- Did you get scared? - Omer asked, embracing her face with his palms and stroking her temples and cheeks with his thumbs.

"I don't know," she replied. - It was scary and I was also worried about you. Your phone didn't answer. I ran to the pier, but there was also a panic. I could not get anything from anyone until one of the boatmen said that none of the vacationers to Bora Bora had returned. And that's when I got scared. I realized that you were here, I saw the wreck and ..., - Defne sighed convulsively. - I ran to the place of the fall. There was no one in the water, and only rescuers were on the shore. And then I saw your jacket. It was lying in the sand, - she closed her eyes and shuddered all over. - And then I saw you...

"My soul," there was a tickle in his throat and his voice was hoarse. - Everything is behind ... You are alive. This is the main thing, - Defne nodded her head and pressed her face to the wet shirt on his chest. Omer looked around. The wind was getting stronger. The waves in the ocean darkened and rose alarmingly high. The leaden sky hung low over the island and threatened to fall in torrential rain. Omer unclenched his arms and, grabbing Defne with one hand, lifted his windbreaker off the sand with the other and led his wife to the pier. She looked at him questioningly, and he explained: - We need to get out of here. It will be safer on the central island.

"Our luggage drowned," Defne recalled.

- Nonsense ... we'll get by, - said Omer. - You are alive! The rest is nonsense.

They crossed the sandy part between the ocean and the lagoon and came to the pier. A couple of boats dangled on the waves near the long pier. Omer hired one and soon they were on their way to the central island. In the lagoon, the storm was weaker than in the ocean, but angry waves beat hard against the side and generously splashed. Even waterproof windbreakers did not protect against cold drops. Omer seated Defne in front of him, wrapped his arms tightly around her, and covered her with his body. But the elements knew no mercy, and both got to the shore soaked to the skin. The wind blew through, and Defne shivered from the cold. Omer hugged her and covered her from the wind. It was necessary to seek shelter, but the coast around was deserted. Shops and restaurants are closed, windows and doors are littered with sandbags. There was only one place on the whole island where they could be sheltered, and Omer took his wife there.

The wind blew strong to their backs, they were thirsty. Defne's stomach was cramping with hunger, but she did not complain. Gritting her teeth and covering her stomach with her palm, she climbed up the slope after Omer and prayed that the owners of the horse farm would not deny them shelter.

The house on the hill greeted Iplikci with an empty veranda and shuttered large windows. Maya opened the door at the first knock. With a gasp, she dragged the exhausted guests into the house and fussed around them like a hen. She helped to pull off wet windbreakers, wrapped them in blankets, fed them with hot soup, and listened to the story of their adventures. Defne spoke mostly. Omer sat in silence and did not let go of her hand for a moment. It was vital for him to feel her. To see, hear, and to touch. Once they were safe, when the worries faded into the background, he was again aware of WHAT had nearly happened and these thoughts terrified him. The heart went into tachycardia. Spasms constricted his throat and made it impossible to breathe. A panic attack came in waves, with which he could fight the only way - by touching Defne.

- So you were left without a roof over your head and without your things? - meanwhile, pouring tea into wide cups, asked Maya.

- Yes, - Defne answered and looked sideways at her husband. His ragged breathing and the force with which he squeezed her hand worried her. - But, praise to the Almighty, the documents remained intact. Compared to what the passengers of the plane had to go through, we are just lucky. Alive and healthy.

"You're right," Maya agreed softly. - Such a horror happened. Theo is helping out at the hospital right now. All the wounded were transported there. He says that many passengers are in serious condition. But everyone is alive - and it pleases.

- The plane did not have time to gain altitude, - Omer, who had been silent throughout the conversation, spoke hoarsely. - Just took off and his engine failed. The height was small and the water softened the fall.

Defne heard the untold. Horror, despair, pain experienced by Omer burned her heart. She knew him too well to understand - he still scrolls these moments in his head and eats himself alive. But this is wrong. It's wrong.

- You are tired, worn out. You need to wash, relax, have a good sleep," Maya spoke softly, looking at the guests." - I'll prepare a room for you.

"Madam Maya," Omer interrupted her, "can we take a room in the guest house till the end of the hurricane? Don't worry, I'll pay for everything.

"Don't even think about paying," she objected. - You are in trouble and it is our human duty to come to the rescue. Of course, you can settle in a guest house. It is fully prepared. Even the food for breakfast. And for lunch and dinner tomorrow you will come to us. I'll collect clothes for you now. "She carefully examined Omer. "Theo's pants will be short, but shorts and T-shirts will do.

She went into the depths of the house and soon returned with a pile of clothes in her hands. Smiling, she called the guests behind her:

- Come on, I'll show you.

Darkness was growing rapidly in the street. The wind turned from strong to a hurricane. It bent the tops of palm trees to the ground and raised frightening waves in the lagoon. Far away, over the horizon, the stormy sky shattered into fragments with thin threads of lightning. Omer grabbed Defne by the shoulders and, covering her himself from the wind, led her after Maya to the guest house. The woman unlocked the door, let the guests in, ordered them to get used to it, and feel at home, and before the sky opened up like a downpour, she hurried to her place.

Defne looked around. On the ground floor there was a large dining room, living room, and kitchen, and upstairs were the rooms. The house was perfectly clean and comfortable. But, most importantly, it is warm and dry. And reliable. Defne turned to Omer. His eyes were fixed on her. He did not notice anything around. He did not see, did not hear, but followed her with an unblinking, sick gaze. She came up, gently stroked his cheek, and, taking his hand, led him upstairs.

"Now we will take a shower, change into dry clothes and it will immediately become easier for us," she said, trying not to frown from the death grip with which Omer squeezed her hand. He followed her step by step, breathing heavily down the back of her head.

Defne chose the first room down the corridor and threw open the door. Omer followed her in. Turning, he pulled her to himself and squeezed so that Defne stopped breathing. Soothing, she gently kissed his chin and ran a hand through his hair.

- Everything is fine, darling, - whispered in trembling lips. - Things are good. We're safe. "With gentle persistence, she unclenched his arms and pulled him into the bathroom." - Come on. Let's wash away all the horrors.

He obediently, without uttering a sound, followed. It was his silence, heavy breathing, and burning fever that frightened Defne. She understood that in the soul, in the thoughts of the introvert Omer, there was now the same storm as outside the walls of the house. In order for it to subside, he needs to release it and allow it to come out. With screaming, tears, madness. But this is Omer! He will keep it to himself, suffer and be silent so as not to upset and not frighten his wife. Only Defne was not going to let him do that to himself.

Near the shower stall, she stripped off her clothes. Then she took Omer's hand and placed it on her chest. She ran it along the ribs and pressed it to her stomach.

"You see," she said, looking into his eyes, "I'm alive and well. Baby too. All the horrors are over. Let them go.

He shook his head and groaned:

- I can't. It burns here. "He put her hand on his chest. "You almost died, and I pushed you to the edge. I made you sit on the plane myself.

- I didn't board on it, - Kissing a strained chin, reminded Defne.

- And if you were? If something happened to you? How could I go on living?

- Omer look at me! - She squeezed his head in her hands and burned him with a glance. - I didn't board the plane! Nothing happened to us! We are safe and sound.

He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth tightly. Words are powerless, Defne understood and sent her innate shyness to hell. One by one, unbuttoning the buttons on his damp shirt, she pulled it off and threw it on the floor. The muscles of his chest and shoulders tensed and showed more clearly under the skin. Defne stood up on tiptoe and kissed his collarbone. Then, lightly touching with her tongue, she went down to the nipple and bit down. Omer twitched and groaned. His skin was salty and cold and smelled of the sea. Defne warmed it with her breath and lips. Unbuttoning his shorts, she pulled them together with his underwear and took Omer into the shower. He meekly obeyed her silent orders. He did not try to seize the initiative, did not dominate. He absorbed her warmth with his whole being and followed her as enchanted.

When the tight streams of hot water hit his body, he trembled. The skin was covered with goosebumps. The inner cold came out and caused physical pain.

Defne, gently fingering his hair, washed it with shampoo. The floral scent emphasized more strongly the other, sharp, disturbing one. The clear gel washed away the salt, but not the fear. Omer, leaning back against the tile wall, shuddered at Defne's touch. She, washing off the foam from him, ran her palms along his neck, shoulders, chest. She caressed his stomach. Thin fingers went down and held his being. Slid along the entire length. Her thumb lingered on the head and easily caressed it. Defne felt a pulsation in her palm. Omer groaned hoarsely and hugged her forcefully.

- Make me! he demanded furiously. - Make me forget ...

She covered his mouth with hers. She boldly burst into it with her tongue and intertwined with his, velvet, hot, burning. Omer pulled her to him with force and his kiss turned into desperately deep. He seemed to be trying to get to her soul, plunge into it, to warm up. To feel with his heart that everything is behind. Embracing Defne, convulsively squeezing her fragile figure, he trembled and desperately pleaded:

- Make me ... make me!

She looked up at his face. Bitterness distorted his beautiful features. They seemed to be carved out of dark stone, on which water fell from above and flowed in streams. And only his eyes burned with torment and desperate fire. Defne hugged him, clung to his whole body, covered his neck, shoulders, chest with kisses. Her hands fluttered like tender butterflies and the tight lump in the solar plexus area began to relax. He sat down on the floor and pulled Defne towards him. She sank on top of him and he filled her with himself. To the brim. To the limit ... touched her soul and made it tremble and moan with acute pleasure. Omer caught her moans with his lips and hurried after her. Pleasure came in a wave. So powerful that he completely lost control of himself and screamed! It was such a pleasure, that scream ripped the web in his chest and the fear shattered. There was only pure joy left. The horror is behind them! They are alive! Really alive! With every cell and molecule!