…he seemed to suck all the air out of the room with just one phrase — or
rather, one word: “flying.” Bahar clutched her throat. Her mouth opened, but no
sound came out. Her heart was pounding somewhere in her neck, and the ringing
in her ears made her almost deaf.

– Bahar, – Evren tried to catch her hands. Alarmed by her panic attack, he reached to embrace her — gently, carefully — afraid to scare her even more.

She gasped for air but couldn’t breathe. Sweat beaded on her forehead. Her body trembled, and she screamed without a sound. She looked at him, but it was as if she didn’t see him.

– Bahar, Bahar, breathe, – he managed to grab her hands, not tightly, then gently pulled her toward him. – Bahar, I’m here. I’m right here. Can you hear me? Bahar, – he gave her a soft shake, trying to catch her eyes.

Evren carefully cupped her face with both hands and drew her closer:

– Bahar, – he exhaled into her lips, pressing his mouth to hers and breathing air into her slightly parted lips. – Bahar, breathe, – he breathed into her again, kissing her.

She was like a puppet in his arms, swaying side to side, pushing against his chest, blind and deaf to him.

– Breathe, Bahar, breathe, – he kissed her again, breathing life into her. – Bahar, I’m alive, do you hear me? I’m alive!

– No, – she whispered hoarsely into his lips. – No, – she grabbed his shoulders, staring into his eyes. – No, Evren, don’t go, don’t fly, I beg you. Don’t get on that plane—it’s going to crash, Evren.

– Bahar, – he found her wrist and brought her hand to his chest. – Hear that? Feel that? I’m alive, Bahar, alive, – he had to guide her hand under his shirt so she could touch his skin, feel his heartbeat.

She shook her head, refusing to believe.

– I’m alive, Bahar, alive, – he looked into her eyes with tenderness. – Alive. Don’t be afraid. Inhale, exhale, – he showed her how to breathe, as if she had forgotten. – Like this, – he breathed in and out, while she silently opened her mouth, gulping for air like a fish washed up on the shore.

– Evren, – at last she managed to catch her breath, but her heart fluttered in her chest like she’d just run a hundred-meter sprint. – I won’t ask for anything anymore. Work at the hospital if you want. I’ll quit if you want. Just don’t get on that plane, – her chest rose and fell heavily. – Please don’t get on that plane, – she pleaded, touching his cheek with a trembling hand.

It was still hard for her to breathe, her lips quivered, and words came out slowly, clumsily, but she tried to form thoughts.

– Claim it, Bahar, – he suddenly burst out. – Claim it!

She didn’t seem to hear what he said. She kept searching his eyes, raised her hand and touched his hair—barely, only the tips of her fingers brushing through.

– I know you’ve already made your decision, – she whispered, still struggling to breathe. – I understand. I accept it, – she leaned in closer. – Let tonight be what it is, – she said suddenly and kissed him herself.

She kissed him with a kind of desperation, as if she couldn’t let go, not knowing what tomorrow would bring. “Flying”—the word pounded in her temples like a hammer. She couldn’t stop him. All she could do was be with him—if he let her… if he wanted her. She just wanted to feel alive. She needed to know he was alive, too.

Bahar pulled back slightly. She pressed her cheek to his, holding him tightly, but even that couldn’t stop her trembling.

– Don’t die like Timur, – she whispered, and another wave of shivers swept through her.

– I’m alive. I’m here, – he buried his face in her hair, realizing another panic attack was crashing over her.

– Let us both live, – Bahar whispered, her lips brushing his cheek. – I want to feel alive, Evren.

He leaned in for her lips, letting her pull him closer. He pulled her into him, letting his hand slip under her robe—and discovered there was nothing beneath it. Wet hair… she had just come out of the shower, he realized instantly, and everything inside him turned over—how many times had they showered together, then had coffee in the kitchen afterward? He mumbled something into her lips as he lifted her.

They had become Bahar and Evren again. He no longer remembered who stood up first, who touched whose hand, who led whom out of the kitchen. They forgot they weren’t alone in the house. They couldn’t speak anymore. They couldn’t stop. They needed to feel each other again so desperately, they didn’t even realize how they ended up in her bedroom, somehow climbing the stairs. Only when she turned the lock did Evren finally let his hands roam, untying the knot of her robe and letting it slip off her shoulders.

She wasn’t far behind—she yanked his shirt out from under his pants and pulled it over his head, unwilling to waste time on buttons.

– Evren, – she pressed herself to his bare chest.

– Bahar, – he nudged her toward the bed, never stopping his caresses.

He kissed her neck—where once it had felt like her pulse beat only for him. She shivered from his touch. She knew that kiss instantly. As if there had been no separation at all. She clung to him like she was trying to memorize his scent, his taste, his touch—everything she could store in her memory.

He tried to wrap himself around all of her. He had been without her for so long—it had felt like an eternity. Their breaths mingled as they lost themselves in one another again, forgetting everything else. Every movement was both familiar and new. As if he were discovering her all over again. And himself—with her. They didn’t speak anymore. There was nothing left to explain… they just breathed, finally feeling alive again...

…he hadn’t felt this alive in a long time. He lay beside her, barely moving, still feeling the lingering touch of her fingers on his skin. She wasn’t holding him—just sleeping sweetly, probably for the first time in many nights, at peace. She hadn’t asked for anything, simply stayed close. Alive. Real.

Evren didn’t close his eyes. He just looked at her. Quietly, for a long time… as if he couldn’t quite believe she was really there. He longed to kiss her again, but didn’t touch her, letting her sleep.

Still, his hand moved on its own, brushing a strand of hair from her face. Her calm, steady breathing nearly lulled him to sleep himself. Carefully, he shifted away; if he stayed any longer, he might reach for something impossible. And she needed rest. He dressed slowly, stealing glances at her. Then leaned in, just as slowly. He pressed his lips to her forehead and held his breath, as if trying to memorize her scent, her warmth, the quiet of this room.

Reluctantly, he straightened up, adjusted the blanket over her, and tucked her in.

At the door, he paused. Stood for a moment. Then quietly stepped out, closing the door firmly behind him. He walked down the stairs slowly. His thoughtful gaze drifted across the living room, not even noticing the boy who had woken up and was watching him. Evren lingered briefly near the kitchen entrance, then finally headed to the front door and left…

…Bahar slowly emerged from sleep’s embrace. First came the sound of birds outside the window. Then the creak of a door somewhere in the house.

She lay on her side, her hand drifting across the sheets, searching… nothing… but still warm… from the open window came the distant sound of a motorcycle engine.

She opened her eyes. He was gone. Not in the bed. Not in the room. His things were gone too. Only the faintest trace of his cologne still hung in the air—a whisper that he had been here. The engine noise faded… then vanished completely.

Bahar turned onto her back. She didn’t cry. Didn’t flinch. She simply lay there, staring at the ceiling, knowing that this night wasn’t about holding on—no, she had never believed she could hold him.

It was a chance to be with him, even just for a moment. It wasn’t a farewell, but neither was it a promise. It was presence—shared, lived, felt.

She hadn’t asked him to stay. He hadn’t asked her to stop him.

They had simply been alive—for one night.

She blinked and slowly got out of bed. Just as slowly, she tied her hair up in a bun. She moved as if nothing had happened, going through the motions of a normal morning. But she understood one thing: everything had already changed.

A new morning had begun—one without Timur, and never again with him. Now she had to step out of the bedroom and tell the children. Tell Nevra.

They all had to start learning how to live again…

…Was he ready for this new life in this family? Yusuf didn’t know.

He sat on the couch, still unsure of what exactly he had witnessed. It had clearly been Evren Yalkın—he recognized him, even though they hadn’t officially met. Yusuf had seen him come down the stairs. Noticed his disheveled appearance. There was no doubt he had spent the night here.

Yusuf stood up and looked out the window. He clearly heard the roar of the motorcycle engine and how it shattered the quiet of this new day. His first day in this house. Bahar had said he was gone, and yet—he had been here.

Yusuf couldn’t make sense of it.

He folded the blanket, put away the pillow, and went to the kitchen. He didn’t know what to do with himself so early in the morning.

Noticing two full mugs of coffee on the table—untouched—he picked them up. He poured the cold coffee down the sink, rinsed the mugs, and placed them on the shelf.

His stomach growled. They hadn’t really eaten the day before, and now his body was reminding him of that. But he didn’t know what he could or couldn’t do in this strange yet oddly normal house.

So he stood in the middle of the kitchen, not knowing what to do.

That’s how Bahar found him when she walked in.

– Oh, Yusuf, – she flinched, not expecting to see him.

– Good morning, – Yusuf turned toward her.

Bahar nodded and sighed. Her eyes immediately went to the table—but it was clean, as if nothing had happened there yesterday, as if no one had visited… Her hand instinctively touched Timur’s watch, still tucked in her pocket.

Even if the coffee was gone, everything else had happened. Timur was no longer part of their lives.

– Bahar, – Yusuf watched her closely.

– Today will be hard, Yusuf, – she finally said. – Very hard.

– I’m so sorry, – he lowered his gaze. – My condolences.

She nodded again:

– I’ll make breakfast. We’ll all need our strength, – her slightly distant tone was unsettling, but Yusuf didn’t know what to make of it.

– I’ll help you, – he offered.

She just nodded again. And he didn’t try to start a conversation, realizing now wasn’t the time.

For all the time they’d known each other, this was the first time she didn’t smile. But something was happening inside her—even if on the outside, she seemed calm.

He had no idea what kind of relationship she had with Evren. He only knew she was divorced from Timur.

But the fact that Evren had spent the night here—that was a revelation.

Still, he understood—some things are better left unsaid...

…he stood silently when he entered his apartment and saw Naz in a silk robe, hurriedly preparing breakfast. She and Cem were rushing about, clearly caught up in some playful argument or competition. They laughed, teasing each other, gently shoving as they passed.

He looked at them—but saw something else entirely: himself and Bahar, cooking in this very kitchen. Evren’s brow furrowed. He turned—and tripped over the suitcase by the door. The same suitcase he had packed himself, ready to grab and head for the airport.

– Evren, brother, – Cem greeted him with a broad smile.

– Good morning, Evren, – Naz leaned casually against the bar counter.

They looked so natural, so at home in the space—but something still felt wrong. With Naz, everything went by the book. No spontaneity. No sparks. No Bahar. Everything was too easy. But inside, a storm of resistance was brewing—this wasn’t the woman he wanted in his kitchen. He didn’t want to wake up next to her. Didn’t want to kiss her. Didn’t want to pour her morning coffee. None of it—none of it was with her.

He clenched his jaw.

– No, – he said clearly, grabbing the suitcase handle.

Suddenly, it was so simple. He didn’t want the easy life—he wanted Bahar. With all her fears, her stubbornness, her pain. Only Bahar.

– Evren, – Cem rushed over. – Listen, Naz had her whole place fumigated—cockroaches everywhere. I told her she could stay with us until it clears out. She’s done so much for us, I couldn’t let her stay in a hotel.

Evren’s brows lifted. Done so much? Really? Wasn’t it him first, then Bahar—maybe together? But no, it was Bahar first. Naz had only given Cem a job.

Cockroaches—he almost smiled. He himself had once used the excuse of bugs to stay at Bahar’s place… How long ago that was—it felt like another life. And now he wanted something strange again. Because with Bahar, the strange felt right, fit perfectly into their world.

– Cem, – Naz wiped her hands on a towel, – Evren needs to change if he wants to make his flight.

– You know, Naz’s offer in the States is still open, – Cem stepped closer. – I can work with her too. We’ll fly out in a couple of weeks to join you. – He clapped a hand on Evren’s shoulder. – A fresh start, brother. Come on, get dressed. Let’s eat, and we’ll take you to the airport. Let go of the suitcase already, – he chuckled. – Breakfast’s almost ready.

A faint smirk touched Evren’s lips. A fresh start? America. A structured life, predictable, easy. Or Bahar—messy, complicated… but Bahar. Bahar.

He looked at Cem, so cheerful and full of hope. And he wanted that, too—but only with her.

– Why aren’t you with Umay? – Evren asked suddenly.

Cem’s hand dropped from his shoulder. Naz placed the towel down on the counter. That single question from Evren was enough for her. Watching his hand tighten around the suitcase handle, she felt like a guest in their life.

– Have you forgotten what Umay said? – Cem’s voice rose, his chin lifting. – She wished it had been you on that plane, Evren, not her father. Can’t you see that? And Bahar! She stayed silent—remember? She didn’t say a word to her daughter. She agrees!

Evren was instantly flooded with the image of Bahar’s kitchen—how she broke down in a panic attack the moment he mentioned the word “flying.” Cem didn’t understand at all.

– Bahar?! – Evren let go of the suitcase. – I barely managed to calm her down when I told her I was flying to America. She didn’t even let me explain that I just needed to wrap things up—and that I was coming back to Peran! She had a panic attack, Cem, do you get that? Do you even know what a panic attack is?

– And you’re defending her?! – Cem’s fists clenched. – After she left you at the wedding table?

– She didn’t say no, – Evren finally realized what she had meant. – She said, “I can’t.” – He took the suitcase and wheeled it down the hallway toward his bedroom.

Naz shook her head—every word from Evren struck her heart.

– That doesn’t mean anything, Evren! You’ll miss your flight! – Cem shouted after him.

– I’m not going anywhere, Cem, if that’s not clear by now! I sorted it all out with Jennifer on the phone—should’ve done it yesterday, – he paused and turned to meet his brother’s eyes. – It’s about transferring a patient to Peran, a patient who wants me to handle the case. Just like that pregnant girl who came all the way from another city to Istanbul—because she wanted Bahar. She found her despite her condition. And you know what? I want to work in the same hospital as Bahar. I want to be part of her life—not read about it in the news, not hear second-hand. I want to be there.

– Are you two getting back together? – Cem’s voice trembled.

– I’ll be there, – Evren replied, – especially now.

At those words, Naz closed her eyes.

– So you’ve been there all along, but not with her! – Cem yelled, no longer holding back. – She won’t give you a family, Evren! She won’t have your child! She won’t let you be part of her family! They don’t need us—can’t you see that? They’ve always rejected us! Always turned their backs on us!

– And what have we done to make them want us, Cem? All we ever do is turn our backs—at the worst possible moment! – he locked eyes with Naz.

Sweat beaded on his back, trickling down his spine. His forehead glistened. He felt shame—but he couldn’t stay silent anymore. These were raw truths, spoken even in front of people who no longer belonged in his life. And suddenly, he knew—Naz was a stranger.

Yes, she was easy, uncomplicated—but she wasn’t his. She wasn’t the one he wanted to walk through life with. She wasn’t the one he wanted to share every high and low with. She wasn’t the one he saw as the mother of his child.

A child… would that ever be possible with Bahar? They’d never even spoken about it. They hadn’t spoken about many things. They couldn’t even grieve their lost child together. At some point, they had stopped talking completely. Could they ever find their voices again? He didn’t know.

– You keep talking about Bahar, but what about me?! Evren, who am I to you? I’m your brother! And all you think about is her, and them—and they’ll keep turning you away! – Cem shouted.

– Then I need to become the man Bahar won’t turn away from. The man she will choose a family with!

Evren disappeared into his bedroom, suitcase in tow, and closed the door behind him.

He closed his eyes wearily.

Had he waited too long?

Had she grown tired of waiting?

Only now did he understand—how foolish he had been. How impatient. Their happiness had been right there, within reach—and he had turned away. Not just from her… but from them.

…just them, a small circle of family and close friends. Bahar and Rengin organized everything in silence, barely exchanging a word. There were no grand speeches, no pomp. Everyone said goodbye in their own way. Then came the quiet—long, hesitant glances, each avoiding the others, uncertain of what came next.

The house, once filled with Timur’s voice, fell still. But they couldn’t afford to collapse. Bahar held herself together, honoring the memory of the man she had spent twenty-five years of marriage with.

Strangely, only the good memories remained. And then there was Umay and Uraz, Leyla and Mert—even Parla. All of them felt like a living continuation of Timur. He wasn’t truly gone. He lived on in his children, in his grandchildren.

Çağla lingered like a shadow, and then quickly left for the hospital—to the stranger who had survived. Bahar didn’t stop her. She understood this was how Çağla coped with losing the man she loved.

She knew very well who had survived—that only Evren hadn’t boarded the plane. The only one. And all because of a request from Reha.

Evren had been at the funeral, standing beside her, beside her children. But they didn’t speak. She didn’t know what to make of his delay—and didn’t want to figure it out anymore. That night, they had turned the page. Put a period at the end of their chapter.

She silently accepted his support—when he guided her by the elbow, when he opened the car door, handed her a bottle of water, gently asked her to sit down.

When they returned to the house with the others, he spoke with Rengin—and then vanished again. Flew out or drove off, she didn’t ask. And he didn’t say. He didn’t owe her anything anymore.

Bahar poured herself some tea and sat at the kitchen table, holding her cup, watching the fish in the aquarium. The fear for him no longer clutched at her throat when she thought about the plane—whether he boarded it or not. His choices were his. That night had simply been about being together. Now, they had their own separate paths.

Bahar glanced at her phone but didn’t open Cem’s message again. Once had been enough. That photo of Naz in Evren’s kitchen, in a silk robe—was burned into her memory. She lived there, in his apartment. They made breakfast together.

Bahar had her own family to care for.

– Mom, – Umay sat beside her, resting her head on her shoulder. – Should we do what Dad wanted? Should I go study abroad? – she asked.

Bahar set her cup down and wrapped her arms around her daughter, kissing the top of her head.

– We’ll do what you want, not what your father wanted. He will always be your father, but listen to yourself. What do you want? – she stroked her hair gently.

– Mom, I said something awful, – Umay whispered into her shoulder. – But that doesn’t mean I wanted something bad to happen to Evren, – she sighed. – Why can’t Cem understand that? Why did he just leave and stop talking to me?

Bahar pressed her cheek to her daughter’s hair.

– You’re so young, my love, so young, – she whispered.

– But that doesn’t mean I don’t love, – Umay confessed, – I just don’t understand… why do I always have to chase after him?

Bahar paled and bit her lip. She had chased Evren for a long time too—until she realized it was futile. And now, when she had stopped running, Evren had quietly reappeared by her side… and she didn’t understand that either.

He lived with Naz, and yet he came to her. Silent. Supportive. That was all. Just kindness. Nothing more.

– No, Umay. Once is enough, – Bahar whispered. – You admitted your mistake. You told Cem. One time is enough. We’re not perfect. We all have the right to make mistakes, to stumble, to be wrong. You can’t live your life afraid of being wrong.

– The thing is… I didn’t say it, – Umay’s voice trembled. – He won’t answer. I thought he’d come with Evren—but he didn’t. Not today. On a day like this… if not now, then when? How do I believe anything?

Bahar hugged her tighter.

– You need to talk, sweetheart. You made a mistake. He might have too. – She struggled to find the words. – If you can move forward together, then do it. If not… accept it.

– Like you and Evren? You didn’t work out either, right? He’s with Naz now, – Umay felt her mother tense, just for a moment. – Then why does he keep coming here? Doesn’t it hurt you, Mom?

– No, – Bahar replied too quickly. – No, darling. It’s just support. That’s all. It’s human.

– Cem is strange, – Umay finally admitted. – And now he’s leaving too—with him, to America. He told Parla. You know… – she looked at Bahar – could Parla stay with us? We’d share a room—it’d be easy.

– May I, Aunt Bahar? – Parla appeared in the kitchen doorway. – This was my dad’s house. I’d like to live here. To touch the things he used.

Bahar nodded and held out her hand. Parla came to her, sitting on her other side.

– Of course, sweetheart. If your mom’s okay with it, then yes.

– Thank you, Aunt Bahar, – Parla hugged her and kissed her cheek.

Bahar exhaled softly. She hadn’t expected the children to know about Evren living with Naz. She hadn’t thought Cem would share that—not just with her, but with Parla. If he hadn’t been so angry at Umay, he probably would’ve told her too.

– Will we all have enough space? – Yusuf poked his head into the kitchen, and Bahar was grateful the topic of Evren was done.

– Yes, of course, – she said firmly. – Mom and Professor Reha are moving in with him. Nevra will stay with us for now, and later she’ll move into Mom’s house. You’ll take the office, – she looked at Yusuf, – and the girls will live upstairs. We’ll manage.

She glanced out the window. Nevra sat in the garden. She had barely been seen or heard the past few days. Once so vibrant, she had faded into the background—just like Çağla.

Uraz and Siren came in, carrying the children. Mert and Leyla immediately reached for Bahar. She picked Mert up, settled him on her lap, and moved her teacup away.

– Bahar, – Siren pulled up a chair and sat down.

Bahar cooed at Mert while the children settled around her.

– Mom, – Uraz handed Leyla to Parla and sat across from Bahar.

– Say it, – she said gently, sensing what they wanted to say.

– Mom’s coming back, – Siren began.

Bahar sighed and nodded. She already knew.

– I understand. I’m not against it. It’s right. Life goes on, my dears. We can’t bring Dad back. But because of him, I have all of you—and these two little angels, – she kissed Mert’s chubby cheek and squeezed Leyla’s tiny hand. – Efsun will need you, and I’m always here. – She cleared her throat. – Yusuf will help me around the house, don’t worry, Uraz. Umay and Parla will stay with me. Nevra too, for a while. – She took a deep breath. – I’ll return to work tomorrow. Yusuf starts his internship. We’ll be fine.

Though not everyone was fine. Esre needed urgent surgery. Doruk had been sending Bahar her test results, and Bahar had been monitoring her from afar as best she could. She knew Serhat had stabilized the girl, but he had to leave town briefly to arrange her transfer to the hospital in Peran.

Some were leaving. Some were arriving. Some were returning.

Life wasn’t stopping.

It simply… continued.

Bahar handed Mert to Umay and stood up. She picked up her teacup, walked to the window, took a few sips—then poured out the rest into the sink. She rinsed the cup, dried her hands, and looked out the window…

…she couldn’t even look out the window—her head was spinning from everything that was happening.

– Evren, the committee approved it. You got the green light to open a transplant department under your leadership, and now you’re planning to transfer a patient from America? – she turned to him, holding the file in her hands. – Do you realize I won’t sign a single document? We won’t survive a second blow! A patient dying mid-flight?! Do you understand the kind of scandal that would be? Right now, after the crash? We’re barely holding on!