Defne's soul fell in her heels from a familiar voice, but she gave no sign. And did not let go of Omer's hand. Slowly she turned around and looked at the woman, who was her friend, an enemy, and a pain in her heart. She has changed. She has cut her hair and cynical shine appeared in her eyes. Or maybe it was always there, only skillfully hiding under a meek look?

Omer let go of her hand and Defne got colder, but the next moment, a hot joy struck like a fountain - he hugged her waist and pulled her closer.

- Fikret? His voice sounded cold. "I did not expect to see you here." As I recall, Italy was a taboo for you.

- It was. But I decided that it was enough to be afraid and hide in the corners, "she answered defiantly and looked at his red-haired companion. Her cheek twitched involuntarily, but she immediately disguised her dislike with a smile.

- Defne! Are you here too?

Defne smiled boldly in response.

- Well, since Tranba and Passionis represent Turkey here, and I am the chief designer of Tranba ...

"And my wife," Omer reminded her.

He caressed her with a glance, and Defne's smile, when she looked at her husband, from a formal turned into warm, like sunlight.

"And your wife," she confirmed.

- The chief designer of Trаnba? - Fikret was unpleasantly surprised but tried to hide her emotions behind a smile too wide. "Besides, the wife of Omer Iplikci?" Bravo! You have stepped far forward. Do your relatives still live in the neighborhood?

It became funny for Defne. What a pathetic attempt to bite more painfully. Does Fikret really think that she, Defne, can be ashamed of her family and the fact that she herself grew up in a neighborhood?

- Yes. And grandmother is still cooking the best manti and beans in Istanbul," she replied proudly.

- I'm glad. Tell her hello from me, - nevertheless, irritation burst out on the last word.

"Sure," Defne's voice sounded ironic.

"Fikret," Omer intervened in their conversation, "we were glad to see you, but Defne and I wanted to dance."

"Wait," Fikret, grabbing the sleeve, stopped him. Omer looked at her fingers on his forearm, then at her and she hastily pulled her hand away. - I specially flew from New York to meet with you. I saw on the Internet that Passionis was going to organize a charity event in support of cancer patients. This topic is close to me ..." she shrugged up and firmly declared: "I want to take part. "

Defne softened and felt guilty. A person flew in to support a good deed, and she went in old insults. Shameful.

Omer was also surprised and asked again:

- Participate? Although, you always did charity work. But I do not make such decisions alone. I have to consult with partners. "He looked at the lively conversations of Sinan and Deniz with Ardini: - Tomorrow.

"Good," Fikret agreed instantly. "I'll be here until Monday." If you agree, I will immediately fly to Istanbul. I saw your latest collection. If you are going to engage it in the show, then I already have ready-made sketches of outfits for it.

- Fikret, wait! Let me talk to partners first," he besieged her enthusiasm. - And now - all the best. Defne and I want to dance. Have a nice evening. See you.

He nodded and led Defne to a table-free semicircle near a small stage where a saxophonist performed a slow composition. A young, fair-haired girl accompanied him on the piano. It seemed that the guy playing the saxophone and her, a single whole. They did not look at each other but felt with their skin, and the melody sounded sensual and penetrating.

Omer hugged Defne at the waist and pulled her to him. He pressed his cheek to her temple, and slowly swaying to the beat of the music, he whispered at the very ear:

- They are also in love.

- Who? - dissolving in his arms, obeying them, and the saxophone in love Defne just as quietly asked.

- The musicians.

His breath warmed her temple. Defne smiled and unknowingly touched a strip of skin between the collar of his shirt and the nape of his neck with her finger. Omer winced but did not pull away. Tickling was pleasant and excited the blood.

- How do you know that they are in love? - leaning back in the ring of his arms and looking at his beloved face, she asked.

- To play, as if they are one and the music is their continuation, can only lovers.

He looked at her as if there was nobody else in the whole world. Like she is the water in the desert, a sunbeam breaking through the clouds after a storm, food for a starving man. So, as if she is his whole life.

Fikret sat at a table in the corner and watched the couple dance. Defne's gesture, when she ran her finger along Omer's neck, didn't go unnoticed by her. As well as the response of Omer.

Once, removing a fallen leaf, she also touched his neck, and he staggered back as if a snake had touched him. And now...

Inside resentment and anger boiled. Why Defne? Why? She lied, fooled him, betrayed him, but he looks at her as an icon. Why does she, Fikret, who supported him in a difficult moment of life, he barely tolerates? Is this fair? Upon learning that Passionis will participate in the fair, she rushed here across the ocean. From the gossipy Derya, who always bowed to the world star Fikret Galo and was in seventh heaven with the happiness that the famous couturier called her, an ordinary assistant, she asked what hotel Omer would stay in and ordered a room in it herself. Having stepped on her pride, she found out from the same Derya about her boss's daily routine and his meetings. She came here alone and, like a fool, spent the whole evening alone at the table. And he didn't even notice. But what did he even notice besides his plain girl from a neighborhood whom he had elevated to the rank of a queen? Nothing! And nobody! How sickening....

***

Iplikci returned to their room closer to midnight. Defne, who from this long and eventful day was very tired, looked at Omer. He looked thoughtful. She threw off her shoes and went barefoot to him. She pressed her hand to the dark stubble on his cheek and, looking into his eyes, asked:

- What's the matter? Thinking of Fikret's offer?

He nodded and pressed his cheek against her palm.

- The offer is good. I understand that with my mind. But something inside is stopping me.

- Intuition? Asked Defne softly.

"The reason coming from the heart," he recalled her words.

She smiled and pulled his hand toward the sofa. Omer took off his jacket, threw it on the back, and loosened his tie. Sitting on the sofa, he reached for Defne. She obediently moved closer, pulled up her bare feet under herself, and laid her head on his shoulder.

"But you don't have to work with her," remarked reasonably. "Your shoes are ready." If she wants to sew clothes for them - let her sew. Darling, her name will attract new investors and new donations. Because of our insults and ambitions, we cannot deprive sick people of hope. After all, every money is the minutes and hours of someone's life.

Omer felt warmth in his chest. His merciful angel. This is the whole of Defne - for the sake of others who need help, she agrees to forget her grievances and sacrifice her peace of mind.

"But it will be unpleasant for you to see Fikret," Defne shot a surprised look at him, and he explained: "I know about the letter," Sukru told me. I imagine that you survived while I had it.

"Like a sharp sword it hung over me," she answered. "I loved you so much and was afraid to lose you." How many times I wanted to say, but my tongue seemed to glue to the palate, and I could not squeeze a word out of me. At some point, I gave up. I decided - let it happen. Let him read and be what happens. But Sukru brought me this damn letter, Nihan tore it to shreds and everything returned to its former rails. Until the wedding...

She spoke on this, such a painful and important topic for Omer. Therefore, he took a chance and asked what had been haunting him for months - why, at the wedding, she admitted to lying:

- You could not step into the new life with a lie, right?

She nodded and smiled sadly:

- I could not...

"My brave girl," Omer hugged her with both hands and pressed her head to his chest. - Then I was angry with you, and now I admire and proud. You were strong, but I was unmerciful...

"You are a person." Like me. Mistakes are inherent to people. "Defne raised her head and looked into his face. "But we fixed them." Right?

"True," Omer returned her golden head to its place and pressed his cheek against the top of the head.

He knew that there were still many mistakes ahead, but they would always correct them together.

***

In the morning, while having breakfast in the hotel restaurant, Omer briefly told his partners the evening conversation with Fikret. Pragmatic, lacking the sentiments Iz and Trаnba, reacted favorably to the proposal. Seda, who knew about Fikret only that she was a world-famous fashion designer, supported them. Sinan frowned and asked:

- But it will not work as before with the store? She suggested, she refused and waved her hand goodbye - he backed up his words with a corresponding gesture.

Omer and Defne looked at each other. No one except the two of them and Fikret did not know why she abandoned the idea of the store and left. Omer lowered his eyes and answered with restraint:

- No. You know how Fikret is obsessed with charity.

"Well, yes," he agreed. "Then I have no objection." Let her join.

"You can tell her about it yourself," Omer nodded at a table in the far corner. Behind it, like last night, Fikret sat completely alone. Sipping tea, she was looking out the window and nervously tapped her fingers on the table only to her known melody. Sinan looked at her and answered:

- Not now. Forty minutes later, the fair opens, which means no later than half an hour later we should be in the exhibition hall of the Gallery. Round off with breakfast and go! We are waiting for the crazy three days. "He flashed a white-toothed smile and winked at his partner. "We did it all the same!" Do you believe that Passionis participates in the European shoe festival? To me, all this still seems like a dream.

"Then don't wake up, brother." Do not wake up, - Omer patted his shoulder and looked around. "By the way, where are Koray and Derya?"

"Gone for breakfast at the famous café-confectionery, which is around the corner," Sinan grinned.

- Together? - exclaimed in astonishment the astounded Omer and Defne, and Iz and Tranba laughed merrily.

- Imagine. Yesterday, so that he would not interfere with us at the meeting and would not shock a potential client with his behavior, I gave them a prize with Derya and sent them shopping. This is from the category of fiction, and I would never have believed that this could be, but they seemed to like not only it but also each other's company.

- You are a genius! - Omer shook his head admiringly. "You also must have a bonus." Or an extra vacation.

Sinan looked at Seda, who was discussing something enthusiastically with Iz and smiled dreamily.

"I will hold you for your word, brother."

***

Defne did not even expect the fair to be so crowded and eventful. One of the long, glass-roofed corridors of the Gallery of Vittorio Emanuel, for several days, turned into a shoe showroom. Defne accurately found with her eyes the shop windows of Passionis Tranba. A small crowd of expensively dressed men and women gathered near them. They examined model samples, spoke quietly among themselves, approached the counter that Derya stood at, and took business cards. Some, seeing the owners of firms rushed to them. Omer only managed to momentarily squeeze his wife's thin fingers and they were separated. Defne was carried away to the showcase, by a young Italian woman who introduced herself as the creative director of the famous Fashion House, and Omer was taken into a conversation by the owner of a shoe shop-chain. As soon as he agreed on a meeting, he left, when the second came up, then the third client. Omer smiled kindly, answered questions, and from time to time looked around for his wife. He caught her look and smiled. And then he returned to the conversation.

At some point, a gap was created in the flow of potential customers. The previous one departed, and the next was in no hurry to appear. Omer looked around for his wife. She stood a little to the side and spoke with a gray-haired old man in square, thick-rimmed glasses. In him, Omer with surprise and joy recognized his design teacher from the Academy of Arts. Smiling broadly, he headed toward them.

- Professor Guillermo! How glad I am to see you," he exclaimed and warmly shook the hand of the teacher.

"Omer, my brilliant student!" And I'm so glad. I tell your story to each new course of students and direct them to take an example from you. "He winked and turned to Defne. "A fine senorita, so you still have to answer to me why you and this worthy young man have one last name?"

Defne and Omer looked at each other and shone the same, happy smiles. The man hugged the "beautiful senorita" by the waist and answered the teacher:

- Defne is my wife and I can proudly say that there is nobody happier than me in the world.

Defne blushed and looked down, and the teacher exclaimed joyfully:

- Omer! Congratulations! You have chosen a wonderful girl! And you, beautiful senorita! Your choice is impeccable. I wish you great, endless happiness and, as they say in your homeland? To grow old on one pillow!

"Thank you, Senor Guillermo," Defne bowed.

"Thank you, teacher," extremely surprised by such talkativeness of the always silent and self-absorbed professor, Omer held out his hand, which he shook with both hands.

"And yet," the professor leaned closer to Omer and said quietly: "As for design, your wife is unique." Support her and do not interfere. I do not know who her teacher was, but she is his honor and praise. So subtly to feel the soul of the artist and not ruin his identity - this is a skill.

"My teacher is Omer," Defne suddenly spoke and looked at her husband. He shone with pride, and at that moment she suddenly felt that everything had worked out.

She found herself.

She is needed and important.

She is loved.

And from this awareness collapsed all the boundaries that previously held her back. Defne realized that she was free. To create, to love, to breathe deeply.

To live!

She wanted to do something crazy. That which the former, clamped by conventions, Defne would never have allowed itself. She turned to Omer, stood on tiptoe, and kissed him on the lips. He did not pull back and was not indignant that there was nor the place nor the time. He grabbed her and, pulling her off the floor, passionately answered the kiss. Around the applause sounded, which grew into an ovation. Tranba and Sinan just looked at each other and grinned. Well, what else to expect from these crazy Iplikci? And Professor Guillermo looked at Omer and his wonderful wife with a wise smile. He was glad that his brilliant student was no longer alone.

When Omer broke away from her beloved lips and put Defne to her feet, when the applause died down, when the lovers finally remembered where they were and unfastened their arms, Professor Guillermo hastened to say goodbye. He already, knowing about the participation of Passionis at the fair and wanting to see a former student, lingered and was late for classes.

Omer looked after him in the wake and, not paying attention to the visitors of the fair who were closely watching them, asked his wife:

- How did you meet? This is Professor Guillermo! A genius living in his world and paying little attention to anyone.

Defne shrugged vaguely.

- I do not even know. Somehow it turned out by itself. He stood at the shop windows for a long time and looked at your shoes first, then mine. Chewing his lip, frowning and pulling his hair, - Omer smiled at such an accurate description. How nevertheless Defne is attentive to details.

- Then he asked who is the author of the models. Derya pointed to me. He walked up and stopped. He examined me for a long time, like the shoes before that. "Defne raised her eyebrows ridiculously and Omer poked his fist. - And then he asked my name. I introduced myself, and he asked who I was for you. At that moment you came up.

- Darling congratulations! - Omer smiled broadly. "Your shoes got the highest rating." Professor Guillermo is Europe's most recognized design specialist. One rarely heard praise from him, and so that right away, he called someone unique - this is a big prize for your work.

Defne raised her eyebrows in surprise and asked again:

- Seriously?

- Absolutely! And he hadn't seen your jewelry designs yet. "He smiled like a contented cat. - Be proud, my love! You're the best! - he leaned towards her ear and uttered in a whisper so that only she could hear: - In all respects.

Professor Guillermo's attention to the Turkish exposition did not go hidden from the representatives of retail chains present. Sinan, Deniz, and Omer were under the pressure of interested customers. Derya and Ruya clutched their heads in horror, trying to squeeze in seventy-two hours countless meetings and negotiations.

But Omer Iplikci was in the center of not only business interests. His arrival in Milan was also of interest to another audience, which is usually called the "former". Moreover, these former are all involved in the same fashion sector. A tall blonde appeared up first and kissed the cheek of an "old friend," as she called Omer. He darkened, but behaved politely and from the very first seconds informed the former classmate, with whom he had once passed a couple of evenings that he was married. Defne, who, together with Deniz, was discussing with the Greek representatives the design features of the shoes on display, clenched her fist.

But later she was not laughing. Beauties appeared one after another. Designers, creative directors of large companies, single women, artists in an endless search. And each, seductively smiling, recalled the unforgettable student days (and not only days) that she had spent with the magnificent Omer Iplikci.

He, without cheating оn his upbringing and good manners, was in a hurry to translate the conversation into a business and carefully get rid of each. And he was looking at Defne. At first, her face was serious, and the looks cast upon him were mocking. Then these looks became surprised and sparkling with anger. And then they were gone at all. Defne turned away and Omer was chilled with fear that she was offended by him for his past.

Damn! How did he forget that this is Milan? The city where he had lived for five years and, naturally, did not deny himself the pleasure of spending a couple of evenings with а girl. After all, they had no meaning for him. Just how to prove it now to Defne. Moreover, in a crowded room, where the clarification of relations will harm not only both firms but also Turkey. And he silently clenched his teeth, politely send away another ex-passion and mentally begged Defne to believe him.