September morning was breathing cool air. The sky over Istanbul was bright blue and crystal clear. Even city smog did not hide it with a whitish haze. Pigeons circled lazily over the rooftops. Sometimes seagulls joined them. They fluttered their wings and screamed piercingly, reminding passersby that the Bosphorus was very close. It breathes, worries, silvering under the rays of the morning sun, sobbing with the fish, which fishermen grab from the water on the Galata bridge. And waiting for the Istanbul people to admire their morning beauty. But people, having a heap of problems around their necks, bowing their heads in a hurry for their important affairs, do not notice the piercing blue sky, nor the sparkling sun within the Bosphorus waters, nor the seagulls, nor that the summer is over, and sad golden autumn.

Omer, lost in thought, left the house and stopped near the car. Sukru was already waiting for him. After greeting, he smiled with his usual, good-natured smile and opened the back door.

- Good morning, Sukru! - answered Omer, but he was in no hurry to get into the car. He looked at the windows on the first floor and waited patiently.

Today's morning went wrong from the start. The tiny bathroom was not intended for a tall man, and Omer almost demolished his shower head fixed under the low ceiling. Having scratched the bruised place, he somehow washed under the meager jets of lukewarm water and returned to the room. Yesterday, Zehra showed miracles of ingenuity by placing his clothes in the only old closet in the whole apartment, and this morning he hardly found the necessary things in the stacked piles and tightly put hangers with suits.

Of course, there was no coffee maker in the apartment, and he tried to make coffee in an old-fashioned way - in a coffee pot. It didn't work out very well. More precisely - disgusting. Taking a sip, he winced and poured the bitter, devoid of aroma liquid into the sink. He tried to get through to Defne. She didn't pick up the phone for a long time, and when, finally, she answered, her voice sounded displeased. She said that she was in a hurry and had no time for idle conversations. Like for breakfast. Deciding not to aggravate the situation, he completed the call and went to wait for her on the street - he was not going to allow Defne to escape unnoticed. Yesterday they took a step towards each other, and today Omer was determined not to surrender the won positions. Although the morning was not the best in his life, he was going to make the day and evening unforgettable. He smiled at his thoughts, but the next second the smile slipped from his face. With a tray in her hands, showing all thirty-two teeth in a smile, yesterday's annoying girl swam to him.

- Omer, good morning! - she exclaimed. Sukru's eyebrows went upon his forehead, and Omer himself only tightly clenched his jaw and with a nod, answered the greeting.

But the girl didn't care at all for such a reaction to her words. She came up close and held out a tray with a fragrant pile of hot bureks.

"This is for breakfast." I was busy baking all morning.

Omer stepped back a step and laid his hands behind his back.

- Thank you for your concern, but not worth it. I don't eat burek. You better treat these children. "He nodded at the three grimy boys who stood nearby, stared at his Mercedes and licked from the smell of hot bureks.

Sabrina was confused. The inviting smile faded and the voice lost its confidence:

- Seriously? Do not eat burek?

- Seriously, really! – a mockingly funny voice was heard. The whole three together turned their heads to its sound. Defne stood on the porch. In brown pumps, cream-colored narrow, knee-length skirt, and a light brown oversized sweater, she looked amazing. There was so much elegance in her graceful figure that Sabrina felt like a cumbersome simpleton, and even with a stupid, full with bureks, tray in her hands. Omer stepped forward to meet his wife, and she easily ran down the steps of the porch and turned to the girl: "Next time, prepare a Fresh from vegetables and herbs." Omer will like it, - she smiled and addressed immediately to everyone:

- Good morning and have a nice day!

Chanting the greeting, she briskly slammed heels on the cobblestones polished by thousands of feet.

- Where are you going? Omer shouted after her.

- A taxi is waiting for me. For now, everyone, - without turning around, she waved her hand, and her walk became even more swift and flying. - See you!

Omer mentally cursed and, paying no more attention to the annoying girl, got into the car and closed the door behind him. Through the windshield, he watched in frustration as Defne got into a taxi. Damn it! What а morning? Everything is against him!

Sukru, hiding a smile, hastened to take the driver's seat and the Mercedes smoothly taxied to the road.

On the street, there was only a furious Sabrina, a trio of grimy boys and a couple of neighbors who, unashamedly, pointed fingers at the girl and laughed out loud.

- What do you want old gossips? She shouted. - Nothing to do? Wash your children better! It is morning and they are already stuck from the mud. Decent people live here. You should be ashamed.

Head up, she proudly walked past them and went to her home. The laughter behind her became even louder and turned into a roar.

***

Omer went to Passionis for half an hour, signed urgent documents, exchanged a few words with Sinan, scolded Koray for idly staggering around the office, grabbed a folder with drawings and left for Tranba. He simply ignored the saucer-eyes of the dumbfounded Derya and the sly smile of his partner. Let them think what they want. Yes, he will go to the territory of competitors! He will go wherever it takes if it is the path to Defne.

On the way, he went to the bakery and bought buns with olives and simit bagels. So, with a folder and a package in his hands, he entered the office of Tranba. He stopped for a minute near the secretary's table and, smiling charmingly, asked Ruya to make a double espresso and tea with two cubes of sugar. And then bring all this to Mrs.Defne's office. And, by the way, will the cute girl tell him where this office is located?

Ruya indicated the direction and the door. And she also warned that she would make tea a little later when she could handle urgent work. Thanking, Omer, headed in the indicated direction. But an ajar door at the very beginning of the corridor stopped him. Inside, at the table was Seda. There was a telephone in front of her, and she was staring at it. After a moment's hesitation, Omer entered the office. Seda shuddered and then her face took the familiar carefree expression.

- Omer! Good morning! Good to see you.

- Hi! Waiting for a call?

Seda looked away and answered:

- Yes. But this is not so important. Have you come to Defne?

She tried to change the conversation to another topic, but Omer did not indulge. Passing the last question, he said:

"And I think the call you are waiting for is the most important."

Seda looked at him searchingly.

- Defne told you?

"Yes, but don't blame her." She did this not for the sake of gossiping, but because she knew I could help.

- Money? - Her voice was bitter. - They are needed, but the problem is not only in them. Nisa is tired of fighting. And I do not know where to find the incentive so that the thirst for life will return to her again.

"I understand ... I understand very well how you are feeling now,"

Omer never shared with anyone the feeling that he experienced during his mother's illness, and after her death. Even with Defne. Although she understood everything without words ... and healed him with her warmth. She used to heal him ... But now he felt that he had to tell Seda and help her survive this terrible stretch of her life. - My mother struggled with a similar disease for more than ten years. And then her forces ended...

- Did she die? - Seda's voice faltered.

Omer nodded.

- She died. But she had no chance. Too hopeless a diagnosis. She already lived ten years longer than the doctors gave. But Nisa has a chance. It is so?

- Doctors say that there is.

- That's great. Do not worry. Together, we will recapture her from death. I have an idea. But don't ask now. When I think it over, then I'll tell you. Will you let me see her?

- Of course but not now. In a couple of weeks. She is being prepared for bone marrow transplant surgery. Yesterday was placed in a separate box. They weaken the immune system so that the body does not reject the transplant. Therefore, any minor infection is deadly for her now. No one is allowed to enter, even me and my mom. We see her through the glass. And it looks bad now. She wouldn't want the famous designer Omer Iplikci to see her like this...

- When is the operation?

- Next Thursday.

Omer reassuringly squeezed the girl's thin shoulder.

"It's going to be fine. Believe that.

"I believe," Seda smiled exhaustedly. - I detained you with my problems. Defne must have been waiting. Go to her.

Omer's gaze warmed. He smiled gently.

"I have to go." Defne is waiting ... By the way, did you have breakfast today? - Seda negatively shook her head. Omer pulled out a bagel from the paper bag and laid it on an empty saucer, which stood on the table by the girl. "Make yourself tea or coffee and have breakfast."

Seda smiled. - Thanks! You are ideal man. I don't understand why Defne with such obstinacy wants to get a divorce?

Omer's smile faded.

"Sometimes I am a complete moron," he answered with regret and left the office.

Seda thoughtfully looked at him and quietly muttered under her breath:

"Sometimes we are all complete jerks."

Omer went to Defne's office. The door was ajar and voices were heard inside. Cold and restrained belonged to Defne. In the second, hysterical and shrill, he recognized the voice of Kivanc Talat. Omer stopped and listened with a frown.

Defne stood in the middle of the room and indifferently listened to the shrill notation of Talat. He had been yelling at her for about ten minutes, and with every minute he lost his temper more and more. Turning bloodshot eyes and sprinkling with saliva, he demanded to immediately provide him with a collection for the festival. To her answer that the collection was still in the process of work, he burst into scolding:

- What does it mean in the process of work? What did you do yesterday?! Idleness?! Do you think you are protected by Tranba and can do anything?! No, honey!!! I also influence Denise and will get you a fine for disrupting work on the collection.

"This is your right," Defne answered calmly.

This calm finally crushed the remnants of Talat's common sense. He jumped up to her, grabbed her arm above the elbow and yelled in her face:

- You! Very proud, are you?! I will break you! You'll crawl on your knees at my feet and beg me...

The next moment, as if a dark whirlwind burst into the office. Kivanc's hand released Defne's hand, and he was lifted off the floor and nailed to the wall with a stiff, muscular arm. Clutching Talat's throat with his strong arm, Omer gazed fiercely at his staring eyes and said right on his crimson face:

"Once again you will raise your voice on my wife, and resuscitation will not help you." Is that clear to you?!

The grip became even tougher and Talat nodded his head. Omer released him and squeamishly wiped his hand on his jacket.

"Get away!" he ordered the man coldly. - I'll talk with Denise to remove you from this project.

Talat rubbed his throat with his palm and looked at Omer with hatred, but kept silent. Only a fool will go into open confrontation with such a bully. Muscles like iron. Such people are defeated by cunning, from the back, all of a sudden. With someone else's hands.

- Out! Omer barked at him and pointed to the exit.

Gritting his teeth, he went out. Omer slammed the door behind him, picked up the folder and the bag of pastries, thrown in a hurry, laid them on the table, and then went up to Defne. Gently hugged her and pressed her to her chest. She went limp and wrapped her arms around his waist. She hid her face on his wide chest covered in blue cotton, and he felt a trembling surge through her body. He squeezed her shoulders harder and kissed the temple.

- Еverything is fine! Calm down. He will not come any closer to you. I will not let him.

"I know," Defne whispered, and then pulled away and said louder:

"I need to wash my hands."

"Me too," Omer grinned wryly. "Show me where you have the restroom."

Together they went out into the corridor. When they returned, there was a tray with tea and coffee on the table

- What is it? - surprised Defne.

"I asked Ruya to make and bring it here," Omer answered and ordered: "Take out the plate."

She silently obeyed. He busily put out buns and simite bagels on the plate helped Defne seat in a chair and settled himself. He slipped tea and a plate of pastries to his wife and ordered:

- Come on eat ! Until we have breakfast - no work.

Defne smiled. It was easy on her soul. Even Talat and the disgust caused by him were weathered from the head. Omer said that he would not allow him to come close to her, and Defne believed him. And she wanted to eat. Having picked up a simit, she broke it in half and bit her teeth into a crusty, sprinkled with sesame seeds bagel. She washed down with sweet tea and sighed with satisfaction. Delicious! Omer, who was watching her, relaxed and also bit a simit. And really, delicious.

- You refused hot, home-made bureks, and now eat simit? - Defne teased him.

"I doubt that they are homemade," Omer answered her tone.

- Why? - devils danced in her eyes.

- So the bakery is around the corner. Sabrina was walking from there.

He bit his tongue and glanced apprehensively at Defne. But she only laughed and said cheerfully :

- Wow! You do even know her name.

"To hell with it," Omer muttered, and Defne's laughter grew even louder. He gently covered her hand with his, looked in her eyes and asked: - Always laugh like that. OK? I love your laugh so much. And I missed it so.

The ringing laughter subsided, but the smile on her face could warm the planet. Allah, how long he expected this warm and tender smile of his Defne. And the opportunity to smile back. Sincerely and openly, not hiding his love, and that boundless tenderness that was inside him now.

"Thanks for the breakfast," Defne was the first to break the silence. "Everything was very tasty," she put the empty cups on the tray and set it aside. She pulled Omer's folder toward her and, opening it, suggested: "Let's get to work?"

Omer tried to hide his disappointment. With his mind, he understood that it was necessary to get down to business, but his soul did not want this at all. It wanted to smile to Defne, catch her return smile and tremble with delight...

With a sigh, he pushed the chair closer to her chair and picked up the first drawing.

Considering the works of Defne, Omer out of habit began with authority to instill his opinion, as the only correct one. But this time it didn't work.

Defne didn't shy away, didn't bend in front of him, and was very critical of his thoughts. She boldly objected, defended her vision of beauty and convenience,smashed his masculine, selfish look at what a woman should want. And in response she voiced what the modern lady still wants:

"Omer, who are we creating shoes for?" For princesses? So even the ladies of royal blood don't spend their lives just driving around in comfortable limousines and sitting on baroque sofas. And what about ordinary women! They work, raise children, and, don't be offended, but they don't want to be wrapped in cotton dolls, who are just waiting for the man to provide them comfort. And there aren't so many men who share your views. Therefore, get down from the sky to earth. Along with beauty, comfort and convenience are also needed.

"Passionis doesn't produce shoes for the common women," Omer snapped, offended by her words.

"What snobbery," Defne objected mockingly. - But Tranba produces. And 90% of European shoppers are ordinary women. They want to wear beautiful and comfortable shoes. Since the project is a joint one, let's seek a compromise. For example, these shoes,"Defne picked up a drawing of scarlet open shoes on fifteen-centimeter thin stilettos - No words, very beautiful. But a woman with such an elongated lifting, and walking on almost on fingers, in fifteen minutes, spasms in the calves will begin.

- True? - Omer scratched his head.

"Absolute," Defne confirmed.

"I never thought about that," he admitted honestly.

- And you think. And I'll be the first to thank you.

Omer unfolded her chair and clasped the armrests with his palms. Defne, who didn't expect to be captured, raised one eyebrow in surprise. In response, he smiled slyly and winked.

"If I redo this sketch, will you kiss me?"

Defne portrayed deliberate thoughtfulness. Patting her lips with her index finger and noting with satisfaction how his eyes darkened and his lips twitched, she took two more drawings from the table and said:

"Well, if at the same time you remake these also, then ..." His gaze fixed on her lips lit up with fire, "... I will think about it."

Omer choked for air. No, this beauty will drive him crazy!

- W-w-think? He asked, dumbfounded.

"Yeah," Defne confirmed innocently. - I don't know what the result will be.

- It will be great! - Omer assured with sparkling eyes. "Or do you doubt my design abilities?"

- Not at all.

His chest was bursting with joy. He couldn't believe that Defne removed the wall of estrangement. That they are together - having breakfast, working, making jokes. Like before. Not! Better than before. Defne appeared courage, self-confidence, a daring charm. She teased him, turned him on, allowed him to come close, and then, laughing, slipped out of his hands, bringing in him with her disobedience crazy excitement and the desire to catch her up, subdue ... or submit herself.

- We have a deal: I redo the drawings and, if you like the result, you will kiss me. On the lips. Not a smack, but a real kiss.

At Defne, everything melted inside. Mommies! What gamble does she stick her head into? And so it is balancing on the verge of sending to hell all her arguments and rushing headlong into love. But still...

-Ok, a deal!

"The drawings will be tomorrow," Omer promised, burning her with his eyes.

- Three drawings in one evening? Unreal. You're not going to make it!

- I'll make it.

From his wry, diabolical smile her mind was clouded. The heart danced a jig and Defne no longer understood what world she was. More precisely - in what sky. She felt alive again, laughing again and enjoying every minute of her life. She was breathing deeply again...

"On one side of the scales is peace of mind and life without pain, on the other is joy and happiness. What do you choose, Defne? - asked the inner voice. "To forget Iz and Marseille?" Would you dare to trust Omer? "

"I do not know! I do not know!!! I'm just a person, not a concrete pile! "

"Hoh! Praise the Almighty! And I thought that you turned into a concrete statue..."