Leyla flinched in his arms. Nevra rose from the couch. Parla put her phone away. Umay rushed into the hallway. Siren reached out her hands, and Evren immediately passed Leyla to her.

— Uraz? — Evren took a step toward him. — Don’t shout, you’re scaring the kids.

— Kids? — Uraz charged at him. — Mine? Or yours? — he shouted, and Evren paled.

— Calm down, — Evren pleaded, not understanding him.

Yusuf stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

— Don’t you dare tell me what to do! — Uraz screamed. — You weren’t there! I saw a woman die after a liver transplant, and today my mom was the one saving her, pulling her back! I saw with my own eyes when their baby’s heart stopped! Twenty-four weeks! And the woman in intensive care, and the child still inside her, do you get that, Professor Evren? And you know what? — he came up close, — she was calling for you! — his face twisted with rage, pain, and fear. — You’ll kill her with your child! Kill her! We’ve already lost our father, and now you want to take our mother too?!

For a split second the living room fell into silence.

— Uraz, — Evren spoke calmly, — I’m not your enemy. Trust me.

— Trust you? You’re not even denying it! You want a child she won’t survive carrying, won’t survive giving birth to! — he threw up his hands, unable to even put his feelings into words. — Her liver couldn’t handle pregnancy, and yet they let it happen, and she’s only twenty-nine! Her husband begged them to save her. And what about you? Will you give your liver to my mom? Force me and Siren to operate on you both? Make us decide who to save first — you, Mom, or your child? — his voice broke.

He staggered, and Evren steadied him, not letting him collapse. He gripped his shoulders tight, then pulled him into an embrace. He felt Uraz trembling, he saw the fear in his eyes — and it wasn’t the first time.

— I… I don’t want to bury anyone again, — Uraz clung to Evren, — do you understand? — his voice was hoarse.

Uraz’s legs gave way, and Evren helped him sit on the steps, sitting down beside him.

Siren froze with Leyla in her arms. Umay and Parla looked on in horror. Nevra pressed her hand over her mouth. Yusuf stepped back, as if suddenly feeling like an intruder, but then stopped.

— I’m not taking your mother away from you, — Evren said quietly, — we’re in this together. I’m here so she can live.

— Live? Where have you been these past five months? Did you even care how she lived? — Uraz snapped, turning sharply toward him. — And now you want a child with her! That will kill her, and you know it damn well! You say you’re not taking her, but that’s exactly what you did — you took her from us when you went to America. And when you came back — — Uraz slapped his palm for emphasis — you kept taking her away! And now she’s there again, — he pointed in the direction, — in the hospital, and once more she’s not coming home! For five months we barely saw her! And then you with Naz in front of her eyes? What do you want from us?

— Uraz? — Umay stepped closer, — what are you saying? What do you mean a child would kill Mom? Evren, is that true? — she demanded an answer.

— I won’t let anything happen to Bahar, — was all Evren managed to say.

They all stared at him, and in that moment not a single one believed him.

— You’re already letting it happen! — Uraz grabbed the railing and pulled himself up, his body shaking with rage. — You’ll kill her if you ever bring up a child again!

Evren rose. He looked at them all:

— I’m not asking for instant trust, — he struggled not to raise his voice, — I’m here to make her happy. And none of you have the right to interfere in my and Bahar’s decisions! — he headed toward the door, but turned back. — A child? That’s not for you to decide, — he declared with his usual stubbornness and finality.

Evren snatched the motorcycle keys, but as soon as he stepped out, lightning flashed, thunder crashed, and heavy rain poured down.

— Yusuf, — Evren tossed the keys onto the table and held out his hand, — I’ll take your car, — he didn’t ask, he simply stated it as fact.

Yusuf immediately handed him the keys.

— And one more thing, — Evren turned back, — I won’t let Bahar live in a hospital! Have dinner without us if you want, or wait if you must!

He said nothing else, walked straight into the storm, and slammed the door behind him. Evren left Bahar’s family in the living room, knowing that with his arrival an entire part of her family was crumbling… but if he was tearing it down… maybe he… maybe they could build something new.

***

Evren had left, and a heavy silence fell over the house. Uraz ran upstairs, two steps at a time. Siren, holding Leyla, hurried after him. Yusuf, at a loss for words, walked into the kitchen. Parla stepped aside toward the couch. Nevra sank wearily into an armchair, letting the phone slip from her hand.

Umay stood there, torn between the staircase and the door, then, shuddering, made her way to the kitchen. Yusuf poured himself a glass of water and stared out the window, watching raindrops trail down the glass.

— You’re a doctor, — Umay began uncertainly, — tell me honestly, is it true? — Yusuf turned, looking at her. — Did that woman’s baby die?

Yusuf’s shoulders tensed, his fingers tightening around the glass.

— The patient is alive, — he said.

— The baby? — Umay repeated, her eyes fixed on him.

Yusuf lowered his gaze, set the glass down on the table.

— The baby couldn’t be saved, — he admitted.

Umay lifted her hands to her head, then let them fall helplessly.

— Then why is she doing all this? — she asked, her breath uneven. — If in the end… — she didn’t finish, — if there’s no baby?

— Because there’s still a chance for the mother, — Yusuf stepped closer, — because if you save the woman, she’ll have another chance, do you see? — he gently touched her hand, making her raise her head and meet his eyes. — She can still become a mother. She can simply live, and maybe that will be enough.

Umay shook her head firmly, refusing to accept it.

— That’s what a doctor does — give everything, even when it feels like all is lost, — his voice grew softer, quieter.

Umay sobbed, turning away.

— And my mom? — she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. — Is she alright? Evren talked about an exam, an ultrasound. Did he do it? If he said it, then they’ve already decided? Then there is a risk?

Yusuf faltered. He didn’t even know what to say.

— Bahar is strong, — was all he managed.

Umay pulled her hand away, walked to the window. Leaning on the table, she stared at the storm raging outside.

— We all heard it, — she whispered without turning.

She trembled slightly, biting her lip. Yusuf stepped closer. Umay wiped away the tears running down her face.

— Why even love at all, — she whispered. — Why go through all this? — she couldn’t understand. — How does Mom endure it?

Yusuf sighed behind her. Umay coughed, sniffled, and without turning asked:

— Do you like studying under Evren? — she suddenly shifted the subject, though her fingers were still clenching the edge of the counter.

Yusuf blinked.

— I do, — he admitted, staring at her tense shoulders, — but it’s scary too. — He confessed. — The professor demands more than I ever expect of myself.

Umay gave a bitter smile.

— That’s who he is, he always demands more, — she shook her head, — even from Mom.

Yusuf scratched his head and went on:

— Sometimes I think he doesn’t realize he’s pushing too hard.

— He realizes, — Umay reacted instantly, — he notices everything. He just… loves, — she broke off, then continued, — so deeply it scares him too.

They fell silent. Umay kept standing with her back to him, and Yusuf couldn’t bring himself to leave, couldn’t leave her alone… the table in the living room was set… but no one had sat down at it…

***

Bahar was almost lying on the desk, her head resting wearily on the documents. The lamp lit only the edge of the table, her shoulders trembling slightly with exhaustion.

— Bahar! — Evren’s voice rang sharply, and she flinched. — Why are you still here?

She lifted her head in fright, blinking away the drowsiness.

— The protocols… — she brushed back her hair, — I have to finish them, — she mumbled.

— Protocols? — Evren repeated, closing the door behind him. — Your shift ended three hours ago. What, are you planning to sleep in your office?

Bahar looked into his eyes.

— So what? — she tried to steady her voice. — It’s quieter than at home.

Evren paused for a moment, studying her. His anger melted before his eyes; he could see she was running on fumes. He came closer, leaned over her.

— You’re destroying yourself, Bahar, — his voice softened. — Why didn’t you go home?

— Because… — she faltered, looking away. — I feel calmer here.

— Calmer? — he raised an eyebrow. — Are you afraid of being under the same roof with me?

She blushed.

— I’m not afraid. It’s just… — Bahar stood up, went around the desk, but couldn’t think of an excuse.

Evren didn’t back down, following her, not letting her slip away.

— Do you think I don’t understand? — he asked. — The truth is, you don’t want to go home. — His hands gripped her shoulders, turning her toward him. — Why? — he pressed, staring into her eyes.

Her eyes widened, her breath quickened, her hands fell against his chest, and then she clung to him, embracing him tightly.

— Evren, I’m tired. Not tonight, — she whispered.

He drew her closer.

— Not tonight, maybe not tomorrow either… — he murmured. — Then how are we supposed to live?

— Evren… — she breathed into his neck.

— We’re together now, — he went on, — but you act as if you’re not happy about it, as if you don’t want this.

Bahar trembled, pulled back. For a moment she searched his eyes, then cupped his face with both hands. Rising on tiptoe, she kissed him.

— I love you, Evren. I love you so much, — she whispered. — And I’m scared for us, — she admitted. — Not because people see, or hear, or understand — no, — she rushed her words like a tongue-twister, — not because we’re noisy, no, I don’t think that matters. I just need time to get used to it, and so do they. — She buried herself in his neck again, breathing him in. — They’ll ask questions, — she whispered almost inaudibly, — they have the right to… and—

— Uraz spoke to you, didn’t he? — Evren guessed at once.

Bahar flinched, pulled back, looked him in the eyes.

— He spoke to you too? — she frowned. — Evren… — a shadow crossed her face.

— A difficult case, — he nodded. — Twenty-nine-year-old patient, post-transplant. Twenty-four weeks, — he said in a calm, steady voice. — I heard the fetus didn’t survive, — his voice faltered, and she trembled in his arms, — that it’s still inside her.

— She’s alive… and the baby is still inside her, — Bahar repeated softly. — As if life and death can’t part ways.

— That’s not our case, — he gently pushed her back, his hands cupping her cheeks, locking eyes with her. — She’s not you, Bahar! That’s not us, do you hear me?

— And if it happens to me too? — she asked, staring at him. — If something dead remains inside me, would you be able to bear it? If you had to choose?

He turned pale, his lips trembling. Evren pulled her into a fierce embrace, not noticing how she stiffened, though she let herself hang in his arms, letting him hold her.

— You asked me not to pressure you, Bahar. I’m trying, honestly… but I can’t not say it, I can’t not think it, — he stroked her back. — Don’t be scared, don’t panic, — he begged, — but you might already be pregnant, — he whispered, and she froze in his arms.

Her fingers clutched at the damp fabric of his T-shirt. She could barely stand, held up only by his arms around her.

— That night we didn’t use protection, remember? — he reminded her. Bahar stayed silent, so he went on. — You never said no, — he whispered, — all this time you’ve been looking for a reason to have a child with me. You’re not alone, Bahar. We’re in this together, so we’ll decide together — yes or no, we’ll get checked, we’ll be careful.

— No, — Bahar breathed out, — no, Evren, I forbid you to be my doctor.

— You can’t forbid me that, — Evren whispered. — You can’t shut me out from what’s ahead of us. This is life. And together we’ll answer to Uraz and Umay, to your mother Gulcicek.

— It feels like everyone’s pressuring me from all sides, — she whispered.

— No, Bahar, no, — Evren looked straight into her eyes. — I’m not pressuring you. I’m here. I know what you’re going through. I don’t want to frighten you more, I want to calm you.

— Calm me? — she almost laughed. — When everyone expects me to become a mother again? When they look at me like I’ve lost my mind?

— No one expects anything of you, — he cupped her face again, holding her gaze. — Only me, — he whispered, — I wait for your love. — His lips brushed hers softly. — I know how hard it is for you to show it, so I wait in silence, — he confessed. — And all I want is for you to live, do you hear me? Live! The rest… we’ll decide together.

— Evren… — Bahar kissed him.

— Let’s go home, Bahar. You’re exhausted. I’ll take you. I won’t let you spend another night at the hospital! — he said firmly. — Come on, let’s take off your coat.

Evren immediately sensed her resistance, as if she didn’t want to take it off. Yet she let him slide it off her shoulders. She caught his gaze at once, rose too quickly, and kissed him — as if hiding something… or maybe he only imagined it.

And still he watched her closely, for a long while. She picked up her bag. Evren noticed her fingers trembling as she took it, so he took the bag from her, offered his hand, and she clung to him, gripping his arm.

— We’re going home now. And tomorrow, — he let her walk ahead of him, — tomorrow I’ll examine you.

— I’m healthy, — panic flickered in her eyes.

— I want to see for myself. Please let me, — he said, closing the door to her office. — You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment, for us to leave work together again, — he admitted, giving her no chance to object.

Bahar smiled.

— We’ll stop by your mother’s and then go home, — he whispered in her ear.

Bahar instantly tensed.

— No, Evren. Not today, — there was panic in her voice.

— Don’t be afraid, — he answered softly.

They were still standing by her office.

— I’m not ready, — she breathed, pressing against him, feeling both his warmth and her own fear. For the first time that day, she allowed herself to be weak.

— Mama Gülçiçek won’t ask about a baby, — he whispered.

— Did Uraz lash out at you? — she suddenly asked.

— He’s protecting you. There’s nothing wrong in that, — Evren pulled her forward. — I want him to see that I’m not the enemy. I’m not going to demand the impossible.

Bahar stopped, looked at him long and hard.

— Fine, — she agreed suddenly. — We’ll visit your mother.

Evren smiled wide, bent down, and brushed his lips against her cheek.

— I love you, Bahar. I won’t risk your life, — he whispered. — You’re the most precious thing I have. Nothing matters more.

She closed her eyes, listening to his breath, slowly calming down. Evren carried her bag, and she leaned on his arm. They walked down the corridor, and he bent closer, wanting to say something. He longed to reassure her, to give her the peace she hadn’t found in all the chaos of recent days. Too much had fallen on her shoulders, and those cases… they had shaken her to the core. Instead of words, his lips brushed her cheek, and she leaned her face against his, exhaling softly. It felt so good to walk beside him through the hospital hallway, his nearness warming her despite her exhaustion. She smiled. They were together again, and her step faltered for a moment, as if she still couldn’t believe they had reconciled, that once more they were learning how to be together.

— Doctor Bahar Özden, Professor Evren Yalkın, — a voice called from behind them, and they stopped, turning.

Sert Kaya was walking toward them. His tall figure stood out against the dim corridor light, a folder in his hand. It felt as though he had been waiting for them.

— Together again, — he said as he came up to them.

Bahar tensed at once, and Evren almost pulled her into his arms, but restrained himself — only stepping closer, offering silent support with his shoulder.

— Starting tomorrow, a temporary regulation goes into effect, — Sert Kaya said in a dry tone. — Any nonstandard decisions must first be approved by the board, — his sharp gaze bore into them, — in advance! — He opened the folder pointedly, pulled out a few papers, and handed them over.

— But that will cost us precious time, — Bahar frowned, taking the papers. — In emergencies, every minute counts.

— Mistakes are made in the heat of emotion, Doctor Bahar Özden! — he cut her off. — At home you’re a mother, but here you are only a doctor!

Bahar flinched under his piercing gaze. Evren’s hand came down on her shoulder, pulling her against him.

— And if that approval costs a patient their life? — Evren demanded, not letting Bahar move away.

— Then you’ll know you did the right thing, — Sert Kaya replied evenly.

Bahar met his eyes, fire of protest flaring inside her. She was ready to argue, to defy his order, but once again he gave her no chance.

— This is not up for discussion! — he turned and walked away.

Bahar’s face burned as she looked at Evren.

— What? — the word slipped from her lips. — What was that? — she couldn’t make sense of it. — At home you’re a mother, but here only a doctor, — she whispered. — What did he mean, Evren?

— Let him say what he wants, — Evren pulled her along. — You have saved lives and you’ll keep saving them. Bahar, come on.

Her step faltered again, but Evren held her steady, not letting her stumble.

— We’re together, — Evren whispered, his face close to her neck, — and we’ll face it all together.

He felt the chill of her fingers, the trembling of her body.

— I’m here, — Evren whispered, tightening his arms around her, leaving no room for doubt. He pressed the elevator button.

Bahar closed her eyes and let her head rest on his shoulder. She simply breathed, trying not to think… just not to think for a little while… just a little…

***

Uraz listened for a while to the sound of his son’s breathing. Mert was asleep in his crib, his breath already even. In the other crib Leyla was softly snoring, a faint smile on her lips. The warm glow of the nightlight bathed the room gently. Siren adjusted the blanket on her son, kept her hand on his chest for a moment, and exhaled in relief.

— Evren handled it so well. I didn’t even think it was an allergy, — she whispered. — And with Leyla, he cared for her like his own. Even I didn’t expect it.

Standing by his son’s crib, Uraz turned sharply. Irritation flared in his eyes.

— Like his own? — he repeated. — She’s not his daughter! She has a father!

Siren flinched, but she didn’t raise her voice. She simply placed her hand softly on his.

— That’s not what I meant, Uraz, — she looked into his eyes. — I saw the way he held her. It was just care.

— And if they… if Mom and Evren have a child? — Uraz looked away, his lips pressed into a thin line. — Do you understand what that would mean?

Siren didn’t answer right away. She took his arm and they sat down on the bed.

— Yes, it’s frightening, — she admitted, looking at her husband. — But I trust them, — she whispered. — I trust Bahar. I trust Evren. I don’t believe Evren would ever risk Bahar’s life, Uraz, I don’t.

— No one knows! — he refused to believe. — Two babies died today. I saw it! — his shoulders trembled. — I won’t survive if I lose Mom. I can’t.

— We’re both afraid, — she embraced him, — but if for her love means life, we have no right to demand anything else of her.

— If something happens to her, Siren… I won’t make it, — Uraz pressed closer to her.

— Then we’ll be there for them, — she whispered, stroking his head. — For them. For her. For Bahar. Uraz, you have no right to forbid her anything. Do you understand? You don’t have that right.

He closed his eyes, pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. For a few seconds he was silent, then looked at the children. Uraz got up, approached the cribs, bent down to watch Mert. His son’s breathing was so fragile, it felt like the slightest noise might break it. I won’t even be able to protect him if I lose Mother, flashed through his mind.

Siren followed him. She adjusted Leyla’s blanket. The girl smiled in her sleep, her tiny fingers curling into a fist. And if Bahar never comes home one day? What will I tell this little one? Siren thought.

Their eyes met. Their thoughts were different, but their fear was the same. Uraz ran his hand along the crib’s edge, as if testing its strength, but his hand was trembling. Siren laid her hand over his, and that gesture calmed him more than any words.

— There’s nothing I can do, — he finally admitted. — It won’t be me who decides. — Uraz wasn’t giving up, but beginning to realize. — It all depends on them.

Siren came closer, wrapped her arms gently around his shoulders, rested her cheek against his temple.

— Love is terrifying, Uraz, — she sighed, — but even more terrifying is living without it.

Uraz shuddered, held her tighter. In the fragile silence of the nursery, Siren became his support. And for the first time, he allowed himself to lean on her. He gripped her hand so hard it hurt. Their faces were close, their whispers filled with a shared fear, where they tried to find hope — tried to learn to believe together…

***

Bahar pushed open the door, and they both entered quietly. The room was bright and calm. Reha sat propped up on pillows. A neatly folded newspaper lay on the bedside table. Gülçiçek adjusted his blanket, though it was already lying perfectly.

— I can manage without being fussed over, — he grumbled, but his smile gave him away. — You just spoil me, — he muttered, though clearly enjoying it.

— Spoiling a husband is no crime, — Gülçiçek retorted. — And if the doctor said a few more days, then it’s a few more days.

— But I’m a professor, — he winked, taking her hand. — Professors have their own opinion.

— And wives who are always right, — she cut him off, her voice tender.

Evren smirked, watching them.

— A very familiar picture, — he murmured to Bahar.

— What picture? — Bahar asked warily.

— The man argues, the woman decides, — he answered calmly.

— Don’t start, — Bahar flushed and waved him off.

Gülçiçek turned, saw them, and smiled. She said nothing, only gave Reha’s hand a small squeeze.

— Now I see, together again, — Reha smiled. — That’s how it should be, — he gave Evren a long look.

— Reha, — Bahar muttered, embarrassed, — please, no grand declarations.

— That wasn’t a declaration, — he countered. — Just a fact. — His voice soothed a little, but she couldn’t help being nervous. — Life is simple: you protect the one you love.

Evren looked at Bahar. She met his gaze, and her fingers tightened around his hand.

— Families don’t stand on professors or doctors, — Gülçiçek added. — They’re built on patience, and on the one willing to take the first step, — she looked at Evren.

Silence filled the room for a moment.

— Well, a professor is nothing without his assistant, — Reha broke it.

— And who’s the assistant? — Bahar’s voice carried a hint of protest.

— The professor is me, — Gülçiçek cut in. — And you’re my patient.

She hugged him by the shoulders, adjusted his pillow, and kissed his temple lightly. He smiled back and squeezed her hand a little tighter.

— What can I say, — Reha went on, glancing at Bahar and Evren, — a professor is always a professor, even in rehab.

— And always arguing, — Gülçiçek added at once. — But you’ll listen to the doctor, you must! — she declared firmly.

— Listen to the doctor, listen to the wife… where’s freedom of speech? — Reha sighed, trying not to smile, but failed, his grin breaking through.

Again Gülçiçek reached to adjust the blanket, but Reha caught her hand and kissed it.

— I already feel healthy, — he kissed her palm, — but you’ll always find something to fuss over.

— Because without me, you’ll start arguing with the doctors again, — she teased, running her fingers along his cheek.

Evren watched them, smiling openly, and suddenly reached carefully for Bahar’s hand. She quickly pulled it back, and he smiled. Then Evren laid his arm around her shoulders, kissed her cheek.

— See? — he whispered. — They’re not afraid.

Bahar looked at him intently.

— And we’re going home, — Evren said aloud, so Gülçiçek and Reha both looked at them.

— Youth is always too noisy, — Reha teased, and Bahar blushed, wanting to hide behind Evren. — But with age you learn: love is… — he broke off when Gülçiçek squeezed his hand.

— Love is the home you want to return to, — Gülçiçek finished softly, turning to Evren and Bahar. Her words sounded like a blessing.

Evren caught Bahar’s eyes. She met his gaze for a second, and a warm smile touched her lips. Bahar leaned into him, resting against his shoulder.

— Let’s go home, Evren, — she asked.

— Let’s go, — they said their goodbyes and left the room.

As the door closed behind them, Gülçiçek looked at Reha. He raised his eyebrows slightly, and they both smiled, understanding one another without words. In that smile there was calm: they knew how frightened they had been, but the road home for them had already begun.

***

They walked down the half-empty corridor, only the glow of the lamps reflected on the polished tiles. Evren and Bahar turned toward the elevator, when Rengin approached them. Bahar leaned wearily against Evren’s shoulder, standing still as she waited for the elevator.

— The case with Cem has been set in motion. Cyber police are involved, — Rengin reported.

Bahar paled and straightened.

— So it’s official already? — her voice trembled. — It’s serious?

Evren tensed, his expression hardening. He gave a short nod. Bahar looked at him in surprise, realizing he already knew. She froze, her fingers tightening around his hand.

— Not now, Bahar. You’re exhausted, — Evren turned his gaze to her. — Rengin, we’ll discuss it tomorrow. It’s late. — He tried to end the conversation.

— Evren, but he’s still just— — she began, but he cut her off.

— He’s an adult, Bahar, — his voice was harsh. — And he will answer for his actions.

Rengin glanced between them but said nothing. The air was thick with tension.

— I’m afraid he won’t make it, Evren, — Bahar whispered.

— Enough, — his voice came too sharp, just as the elevator doors slid open. — We’ll talk later, — he turned to Rengin. — Tomorrow. — And they stepped inside.

Rengin nodded. Evren didn’t let go of Bahar’s hand. He said nothing more — not in the elevator, not when they got into the car, not even as they drove off the lot. The silence pressed harder in Yusuf’s car. If they had been on the motorcycle, the quiet might have felt natural, understandable. But in the car, Bahar grew uneasy. She watched his profile, the tight line of his lips, and said nothing…

***

Nevra sat on the edge of her bed, biting her lip, holding her phone. For a few seconds she just stared at the screen, gathering courage, then finally pressed call. The dial tone seemed endless.

— Nevra? Is everything alright? — Ismail’s voice was gentle, though edged with concern.

— I… I don’t know. I should have… I thought… — she trailed off, then exhaled. — Tell me honestly, Ismail… is it really that bad with Bahar? — the words tumbled out as she wrung her hands.

— What happened? — his voice sharpened instantly. — What did you hear?

— They say… that pregnancy is dangerous for her. That it could cost her life. Is that true? — she demanded.

Ismail closed his eyes, pressed his palm to his forehead. He searched for words, but none came. Nevra held her breath, waiting.

— Nevra, listen, — he finally broke the silence. — Bahar is stronger than you think. She’s a doctor, she knows every risk better than any of us. And Evren is with her. He won’t let her take chances.

— Are you sure? — her voice trembled. — Can anyone foresee everything? Are there such guarantees?

Ismail gripped the phone so tightly his knuckles whitened. He knew there were no guarantees. But he heard her fear, felt it.

— There are never guarantees, Nevra, — his tone stayed calm, gentle. — But there are people we choose to believe in anyway. Bahar is one of them. And if she decides… it means she knows she can face it.

— I’m scared for her, — Nevra closed her eyes, pressed her hand to her chest. — As if everything could fall apart again, just when things were finally coming together.

— Then let yourself believe this time will be different, — he asked softly.

She fell silent. The pause stretched long. Neither of them wanted to hang up, nor to break the quiet. They sat there, each in their own room, each with the phone pressed to their ear.

Ismail gripped the phone harder than necessary, paced a few steps, stopped by the window.

— Good night, Nevra, — his voice softened, grew warmer.

She flinched at the sound of her name, and for the first time in the whole call, she smiled — despite the anxiety. They stayed silent, neither ending the call, as if the silence itself mattered more than any words…

***

They reached the house in complete silence. The car stopped at the gate. Bahar stole glances at Evren’s profile — his lips pressed tight, fingers clenching the wheel. He said nothing. Neither did she.

Evren cut the engine, stepped out first, circled the car, and opened her door. His movements were restrained, almost mechanical, but he still offered his hand, helping her out. Bahar leaned on him, and that was their only touch the whole way home.

The house was quiet. The living room empty. On the table lay a tablecloth, plates neatly arranged, dishes untouched, everything already cold. Even the air seemed frozen, heavy with an awkward emptiness.

Evren lingered a moment by the table. His gaze slid over the plates. He clenched his jaw, looked away, said nothing, and headed upstairs.