Laughter, conversations, and music flowed from all directions, but it was as if she saw and heard nothing. Only him and her, just nearby… but not together. She was acutely aware of his every movement, felt his breath on her skin. She even tried to look into his eyes through the glasses… but it was all in vain — the dark lenses securely hid the captivity of his gaze.

Evren was close, guiding her in the dance, but nothing more. Only his words — he couldn’t leave, and that was it. Not another word, just a silent invitation to dance, and her heart had galloped from the very first touch.

It had been so long since she’d been this close to him that it all felt unnaturally strange — feeling his breath, the warmth of his hands on her skin. Bahar didn’t know how much longer she could take it. On one hand, she desperately wanted to press herself closer to him. On the other, he still kept his distance. She could feel it… and she understood. She knew his unshakable resolve all too well, remembered perfectly that once he made up his mind, nothing could sway him. But what had he decided? She still hadn’t gotten an answer. Leave? Stay? Not knowing knocked the ground from under her feet, drove her mad... And when the music ended, the spell of his closeness vanished with it, along with the warmth of his hands.

Suddenly, she felt uncomfortable, as if she wanted to disappear somewhere, leave without anyone noticing. The murmur of voices irritated her — she craved silence, peace, just to catch her breath, to realize she should never have gotten her hopes up. After all, he had only come to her mother’s wedding as the groom’s best man. He simply came, just another guest. But not the Evren she had known. Not the one she had fallen for. The one she still loved. And yet, over these long months, she had learned to live without him and move on.

Yes, she was to blame. Putting on a rehearsed smile, Bahar stood and headed toward the house, weaving between the dancers. She was grateful for her glasses, hiding the sadness in her eyes. Bahar understood well that he, too, was at fault. But she remembered his words — that no one he’d been with was ever her. And so what? What did that even mean?

She swallowed hard. Because he had been with others. He had gone on living while she had put her life on hold. Bahar pressed a hand to her chest, stepped into the house, and stopped, burying her face in the sheer curtain covering the open doorway. She bit her lips to stop herself from crying out from the pain that engulfed her. She understood there was no reaching him — not when he had already decided they were no longer meant to be. She just had to accept it, learn to see him with others and try not to suffer. Adapt, like she had learned to work in the hospital without him, yet near him. But not with him.

Like now — she managed to dance while trying not to feel. But no, a single tear still slipped down her cheek, and she tilted her head back to stop the flood. Just stop — so she wouldn’t cry while the celebration behind her continued. She didn’t want to ruin her mother’s joy.

Hearing footsteps, she immediately recognized his stride. Why? Why did he follow her? Why keep tormenting her? She wasn’t ready to see him, not now, not with tears blurring her vision. Bahar flinched, clenched her eyes shut tighter, stepped on the curtain, and her feet tangled. Like a blind kitten, she tried to free herself from the veil of fabric, almost falling, when suddenly she felt the warmth of his hands on her waist. Evren caught her — but didn’t pull her in — just helped her regain balance.

– Why? – the word escaped her lips.

– You left so suddenly. Are you okay? – his voice disoriented her. It reached every cell in her body. Did he really not understand? He used to feel her so well. Had he forgotten everything? Erased it all from memory?

If he had, then she hadn’t yet gotten used to being this close and pretending it meant nothing. She hadn’t gotten used to being a stranger. But she would, like he did. She’d try, and she would succeed — if being together was no longer an option. She should’ve accepted that by now, even if her soul was breaking apart.

– I’m fine, – she nodded, turning toward him — and once again got caught in the thin cocoon of tulle.

– Bahar, – Evren tried to free her, but the more he pulled, the more tangled they became, until they were face-to-face, completely enveloped in the airy fabric.

– Evren, – her hands involuntarily touched his shoulders. She was only trying to keep her balance, she told herself, but she couldn’t move them away, couldn’t step back. – You didn’t get on the plane, – she reminded him, as if it wouldn’t let her rest, as if she needed to understand his hidden motives. No matter what she told herself, no matter how she tried to convince herself — it all came down to one thing. She just wanted to know: what had he decided?

Evren raised his glasses, and she had to remove hers. They let go of each other and stepped back just enough as the fabric allowed. They could’ve easily untangled themselves, but they stood there, looking at each other, cut off from the world outside the curtain, in their own universe — for a moment, once again, Evren and Bahar.

– I didn’t board. Rengin asked me to stay for the conference, – he admitted.

Her brows lifted slightly. Their universe shattered into pieces, and her gaze wandered. She no longer wanted to search for answers in the darkness of his eyes.

– And the wedding? Why…? – she didn’t finish, silently scolding herself for the interrogation.

– I came because Dr. Reha asked me to, – Evren sighed.

Bahar flushed, outrage rising instantly, and she could no longer hide it.

– Rengin, Professor Reha — who’s next, Evren? – her voice turned cold, lips pressed into a thin line. – Who’s going to ask you to stay next time? Naz? Or someone else? Another one? How many more will there be, Evren? How long will you compare or try to compare?

His eyes narrowed, he took a step toward her, fists clenched. Bahar lifted her chin, jealousy crashing over her like a wave, sweeping everything in its path. She wanted to push him away — but instead, her hand brushed his shoulder, wiping off an invisible speck. He looked like he was about to grab her hand, as if sensing her impulse to strike, but instead, he tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.

And just like that, the shattered universe became whole again — in a blink. Complete, without cracks or gaps. Just them, together, for a fraction of a second. His breath grew heavy, his gaze searing… he was no longer hiding.

– Others?! – the words burst from his lips, and his gaze dropped, hand reaching her neck, the other resting on her waist, naturally, like he hadn’t forgotten, like he remembered her body.

– Evren, – her breath hitched, lips parted.

And he pulled her to him — gently, possessively. He leaned in, eyes devouring her face, her lips, her bare neckline. As if he couldn’t get enough of her, as if he had been away for too long. His breath scorched her lips… She could almost feel his kiss — long-awaited after months of separation, arguments, and silence… Their lips nearly touched…

– The plane crashed! A disaster! – shouts rang out from outside. – Dad! Timur! Tolga!!!

Their barely restored universe shattered to dust.

– Timur? – she frowned, whispering the name right into his lips, struggling to focus.

– Timur?! – Evren echoed with effort and anger, his breath hot against her mouth.

They stared at each other for the briefest moment… then she stirred in his arms, pulling away… and he held tighter at first, as if unwilling to let go. She had to push against his shoulders… and then he let her go, abruptly. She turned immediately.

– Umay! Uraz! – Bahar pushed the curtain aside and ran outside.

A smirk briefly crossed Evren’s lips. Then, gritting his teeth, he shoved his hands in his pockets, cracked his neck, and stepped outside… Nothing had changed. Everything was repeating itself… She chose anyone but him…

…Shouts echoed from every direction. Umay was sobbing in Cem’s arms, Cagla desperately trying to reach someone by phone, Rengin clutching Parla tightly. Uraz’s trembling fingers were dialing a number.

– It’s not true, Mom, it’s not true. Dad couldn’t have died, Mom, – Umay rushed to Bahar.

– Sweetheart, hush now, nothing has been confirmed yet. It might not have been Timur, – she stumbled over the words as she wrapped her arms around her. – Your dad might not have died. It could’ve just been a mistake, do you understand? Just a mistake.

– Why did he get on the plane? – Umay was shaking. – He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to fly.

– Uraz? – Bahar turned around, but her son shook his head and stepped closer. He hugged them, and the three of them stood together as if orphaned in a single instant.

Siren approached and placed her hands on her husband’s shoulders, pressing against his back. Evren stood slightly to the side, frowning, catching Rengin’s gaze. His eyes landed on a tall young man — the same one from the photo Bahar had sent him. Yusuf, too, kept to the sidelines, just like Evren, while everyone else was reeling from the terrible news. Gulcicek was fanning Nevra’s face with her hands, Doruk helping her. Everyone was doing something, everyone was involved, while Evren felt completely out of place, unsure of what to do in that moment. He didn’t even fully realize — what next, if everything was confirmed… what exactly? Was he ready for the news? Ready for the idea that maybe Timur would no longer be in their lives… their lives? He frowned. Why had he thought their?

– Parla, sweetheart, don’t cry, – Rengin gently stroked her daughter’s back. – We need to find out everything first, darling. Maybe it’s a mistake. Maybe someone survived.

– How can we find out? – Parla sobbed. – How can anyone survive, Mom? It was a plane! It crashed!

– Tolga, Tolga, pick up the damn phone! – came Cagla’s voice from somewhere nearby. – He didn’t die, Bahar. He didn’t! – she locked eyes with her friend. – Not now, not when he just proposed. He couldn’t! – she declared. – He couldn’t leave me. No!

– Evren, – Reha stepped closer to him.

– Professor? – Evren pushed up his glasses. – What needs to be done? – He looked over at Bahar, who was holding the children, understanding she had no space in her world for him at the moment. – What can we do? – he suddenly rephrased.

– Cem, – Evren called out to his brother.

– Someone needs to go to the hospital, – Reha placed a hand over his heart.

– Professor, – Evren sat him down on a chair, – please, don’t strain yourself. Let’s do this — stay here, take charge. You’re the eldest now. Cem, – he looked around, – you stay with Umay. She needs your support right now.

– What about Sister Bahar? – Cem hesitated. It was the first time in so long he’d called her that — sister.

– Timur isn’t Bahar’s husband, – Evren replied too sharply. – Timur is Umay’s father. She needs you now. Forget everything else. Bahar needs help.

– Evren, – Cem suddenly hugged him. – I’m glad you weren’t on that plane, – he whispered, trembling. – I couldn’t manage without you anymore, I really couldn’t, – he confessed.

Evren hugged him tightly, and at that moment, his gaze met Bahar’s. She wasn’t wearing her glasses anymore, but her eyes pierced through him — like she was hugging him in her mind, relieved that he had been in the garden at that moment. And Evren realized that if she could, she would’ve embraced him right there, in front of everyone. But he quickly pushed the thought aside. He wasn’t supposed to think that. He mustn’t. What he feared was starting to happen — being near her made him believe in them again.

– I can’t lose my father just when I found him, – Parla’s sob broke through to Evren.

– Darling, we don’t know yet, maybe Timur wasn’t on that plane, maybe there are survivors, – Rengin tried to comfort her.

Evren could see how hard it was for her to say those words. Her eyes were red from unshed tears. Only Bahar remained composed. She had seated Umay, placing her in Cem’s care. Siren still held Uraz’s hand. Bahar walked over to Nevra.

– Bahar? – for the first time, Nevra didn’t know what to say.

She simply touched her shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze.

– Mom, – she whispered, and Gulcicek nodded in silent understanding.

– I’ll stay with her, don’t worry. Take care of the children, darling, – Gulcicek sat beside Nevra and took her hand. – You’re not alone, Nevra, do you hear me? We are your family. Family, no matter what happens!

Family! — the word echoed in Evren’s mind, making him flinch. He had never truly become part of that family. Bahar had made space for everyone in her family. Even her ex-husband’s mistress, her daughter, even that guy Yusuf who had so easily slipped into her life — she had found room for all of them. Everyone… except him. She had denied him a place. Couldn’t give it.

He adjusted his shirt collar, suddenly feeling choked. He had to do something — anything. He couldn’t just stand there.

– Rengin, – Evren approached her with Bahar.

– Rengin, – Bahar touched her hand. – You need to go to the hospital. Parla, sweetheart, – Bahar caressed the girl’s head – we need to let your mom go so she can find out what happened. And you’ll stay with us, sweetheart, with us, my darling. You won’t be alone.

Parla turned and hugged Bahar tightly.

– Daddy didn’t die, did he, Aunt Bahar? He didn’t? He’ll come back to us, right? – the girl whispered.

Bahar exchanged glances with Rengin and Evren. Rengin wiped away tears.

– Rengin, we have to go. Bahar’s right. Doruk! – Evren called the young man.

– Parla, sweetheart, I need to check on Cagla, – Bahar whispered and nodded at Yusuf. Just one look — and he understood. He came over, and Bahar handed Parla over to him.

As they were leaving, Evren supported Rengin on one side while Doruk held her other arm. At the gate, he turned to look back. He could feel Rengin trembling, but what amazed him was how composed Bahar remained. Calmly giving quiet instructions, leading everyone back into the house. One arm around Cagla, who was still loudly insisting Tolga was alive. He is alive! The other holding her daughter’s hand, never losing sight of Parla, Uraz, or Nevra. She had become the pillar of the family. The head.

For the first time, Evren saw her differently — not just as a woman, not just a doctor, not just a mother. He saw the head of a family. Oddly enough, everything was holding together around her — and that was her responsibility now. Just like he had found his own responsibility, one Rengin quietly voiced.

– Evren, you’ll… – she faltered, and both he and Doruk steadied her, – you’ll do it, won’t you? – she whispered.

– I’ll do the identification, – he replied softly. – None of you need to. I’ll go alone.

The shadow of Timur still loomed over him. And now, he felt regret. Their rivalry had ended — but there was no winner or loser. Only the inevitable disaster… or perhaps it had already happened, and now it was just a matter of waiting for the consequences.

– Maybe he’s alive, – he said, barely managing to get the words out, as he helped her into the car. – I’ll drive, – he said, taking the keys from her hand…

…She wished she could hear the sound of her ex-husband’s car engine.
For the first time in years, she was waiting for him — waiting for him to come. To walk in like he used to, say something biting, jab someone with a word, or simply strike her in passing. Timur.

Bahar brewed tea and picked up a tray with cups. She carried it into the living room, where everyone sat in silence. There were no more tears — just a collective flinch and hush every time a phone rang. Time dragged endlessly, as if the second hand on the clock had frozen, reluctant to move forward.

Timur. Right now, it was hard for her to remember the bad. For some reason, all she could see was his smile, his kind gaze. Yes, they’d had a lot of good times, and now those moments played out before her mind like a film reel. Every now and then, she checked her phone — maybe she missed a message, maybe Evren had written while she was away. But her phone remained silent, buzzing only with useless notifications from social media, which she swiped away without reading. She didn’t want to reply to anyone. Didn’t want to say anything. They didn’t even know anything yet. Even the grandchildren were silent, not demanding their usual attention.

– I wish Dad hadn’t gotten on that plane, – Umay whispered. – He didn’t want to go! He didn’t want to, Mom!

Cagla was nervously tapping her foot near the window, twisting the ring on her finger—the same one Tolga had given her when he proposed.

– Sweetheart, – Bahar took a step toward her.

– It would’ve been better if Evren had been on that plane! Everyone would’ve been better off! Don’t you get it?! Just Evren!

The color drained from Bahar’s face. She simply stared at her daughter, for the first time at a loss for words. Then her gaze swept across them all: Umay, Uraz, Cagla, Parla, Nevra. They seemed to silently agree. Only Cem jumped to his feet:

– What are you saying, Umay? Evren is my brother! – he scowled.

Umay buried her face in her hands, sobbing.

– We wouldn’t be sitting here right now, waiting for news. Life would’ve gone on. Dad would be alive! – she whispered through her tears.

– But not at the cost of my brother’s life, – Cem couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

Bahar touched the boy’s shoulder, but he flinched and stepped back.

– You, you… – he couldn’t finish.

– Cem, – Bahar said with difficulty, catching Cagla’s gaze.

– Maybe it would’ve been better if none of you had ever come into our lives! – he exploded and stormed out of the house.

And Bahar didn’t stop him. She stood there, stunned, looking at her family. Her own family. In her ears still echoed Cem’s words: “not at the cost of my brother’s life.” She looked at Cagla, Parla, Uraz, Umay, Nevra. Did they all feel the same way?

Bahar swayed. She didn’t say a word — just turned and walked out, steadying herself against the wall with one hand. For the first time, she couldn’t find the words to respond. She hadn’t even tried to stop Cem.

– Umay, – came Gulcicek’s voice, – sweetheart, how could you say such a thing?

Bahar sat down in the kitchen and stared at the fish swimming in the aquarium. She watched them, breathing with difficulty. Pressing her hand to her chest, she couldn’t even allow herself to imagine what it would’ve been like if Evren had been on that plane. Her heart rhythm faltered. But hadn’t she just hours ago tried to force herself to live without him? Without him — it didn’t mean without him in the world. No. She wanted him to be alive. Alive! He had to be alive — even if not with her. As long as he lived. As long as he was happy.

– Mom, – Umay appeared in the kitchen doorway. – Mom, I didn’t mean it, you know that, right? – she sobbed. – Mom?

Parla hovered behind her, not leaving her side, also trying to catch Bahar’s gaze. Bahar closed her eyes for a moment and reached out her hand. The girls instantly rushed to her and sat on either side, hugging her as she hugged them.

– I didn’t mean that I wanted Evren on that plane, – Cagla entered the kitchen. – But Tolga is alive! – she repeated like a mantra. – He’s alive! I feel it, I know he’s alive!

– He’s alive, sweetheart. Tolga is alive, – Bahar suddenly agreed.

– Yes, we’re just waiting. He’ll call. Or someone will call us. But he’s alive! – she folded her arms. – We’re not crying, are we?! It’s too soon for tears! – she declared in her usual fashion.

Bahar took a deep breath. Strangely, she couldn’t recall anything about Timur now — nothing but his smile and kind eyes. That’s what he had passed on to their children. She saw it in their eyes, in their smiles… Was that all?

And now, looking at Uraz entering with Siren, it was like she caught a glimpse of Timur through his eyes. One by one, they had all left the living room for the kitchen, as if Bahar’s departure had drawn them all to her.

– The tea is in the living room, – Bahar noted. – Is someone going to bring it, or are we all heading back there?

And everyone froze. Time seemed to stop again…

To be continued...