…the silence stretched between them, while behind her, dozens of eyes were already fixed on the scene. Bahar felt it sharply, as if she could hear not just the whispers, but every breath, every muffled chuckle.

Evren didn’t take his eyes off Naz. Naz looked straight at him. Bahar kept glancing from one to the other, as if trying to guess who would speak first.

— This has to stop, — Bahar finally said, stepping closer to Naz.

— Why are you here? — Evren moved in.

— Do you want to talk? — Bahar whispered, her voice low enough for only them to hear.

— We have nothing left to talk about, — his tone carried irritation.

— I wanted to say that Cem — she began.

— He did what you both allowed him to do! — Bahar’s voice sharpened. — You, — she turned to Evren, — never said yes or no. And you, — she looked at Naz, — had every right to build your own happiness… and yet you always left room for hope.

Naz’s expression changed. Evren went pale. Bahar took a breath. She wanted to turn around, to see if anyone had overheard them — what they had seen, she already knew too well.

A car pulled up nearby, and Yusuf stepped out, slamming the door.

— Bahar, — he called, opening the passenger door.

She looked at him. A way out… like the "I can’t" she’d said before walking out of their wedding. Easy now… hard later. Maybe with her head held high… but then what? What comes after? The same unknown, the same empty silence.

— You come here to see if you still have a chance, — Bahar went on, not stepping away from Yusuf, who waited patiently by the car. — Want to make him choose? — she asked. — Want me to believe you just happened to end up in his kitchen? — her voice cracked.

— I’m not living with Naz, — Evren interrupted.

— I know, — Bahar exhaled. — You’re living in my house. I know the video was a farce. So what now, Evren? — she looked him in the eye.

It all felt like a repeat — when she came to his home and asked him to give them a chance. And now again, she looked at him with the same question in her eyes, and that made her feel awkward, like she was cornering him, forcing a decision.

— Bahar, — Evren reached out his hand, — let’s go home.

Just two words, and she closed her eyes. The pounding of her heart drowned out the sounds of the living city. “Let’s go home,” throbbed in time with her pulse, tightening everything in her chest. Breathing became hard.

— You don’t have to, — she whispered, shaking her head slightly, offering a faint, uncertain smile, scared to believe, scared even to think — what comes next. — You don’t owe me.

— But I love you, Bahar, — Evren didn’t let go of her hand.

Naz took a step back the moment she heard his words.

— And I love you, — Bahar whispered through tears, her hand trembling.

Fear gripped her, but she reached out, and her palm met the warmth of his. He gently pulled her closer, and they walked together toward his motorcycle. Evren felt her trembling, the chill of her hand, but she walked with him. She put on the helmet and climbed behind him, pressing tightly against his back.

Evren smiled, his eyes glinting with tears. He turned slightly, as if to check — was it really her behind him, were those really her arms wrapped around his waist? He kicked up the stand, turned the key, and the motorcycle rolled forward… just a few seconds, and he twisted the throttle. The engine roared, carrying them off down the highway.

Yusuf got into his car and slowly drove forward, leaving behind the hospital’s grand columns…

***

All eyes were still fixed on the columns at the hospital entrance. The sound of the engine faded. Evren and Bahar had gone, Naz had melted into the crowd, and the nurses, the assistants — they were still standing there, watching, as if they couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.

— Yesss! — Ahu exhaled, barely audible, then jumped up, clapping her hands. — I told you! I told you! — she shoved Ferdi in the shoulder and practically shouted, — Evren and Bahar are back together!

— That doesn’t mean anything yet, — Ferdi grumbled, stuffing his hands in his pockets, looking like he hadn’t just lost a bet, but half his life.

— Oh, but it does! — Ahu was nearly dancing, bouncing in place. — They left together! He gave her his hand, and she was like — here’s my hand! — she grabbed Ferdi’s wrist and theatrically pressed it to her palm. — Then they rode off into the sunset on one motorcycle!

She rolled her eyes dramatically, clasping her hands to her chest, then fanned herself as if it had suddenly gotten too hot.

— Did you see how she clung to him? — she was about to throw her arms around Ferdi, but he dodged just in time.

— That doesn’t mean they made up, — Ferdi said stubbornly, holding out a hand to stop her mid-hug, — tomorrow could be a whole different story.

— What do you mean, how?! — Ahu planted her hands on her hips. — How could it not be?! What were you even watching? Or is your vision, like, minus fifteen?

Ferdi snorted and turned away, but the way his shoulders tensed said it all: he’d lost the argument — and everyone around knew it.

***

Evren weaved through the traffic. Every now and then, he turned his head just slightly — and she could swear she saw him smile. That smile made everything inside her stop. The engine’s rumble was deafening, and yet inside her, things were growing quieter, as if all sound were sinking deep underwater, into the weight of the ocean. Faces, glances, whispers behind her back, the ectopic, America, “I can’t,” the white dress, the child — it all crashed down at once. Too many sounds, too many faces, too many stares… all of it, all at once. It felt like the entire day, the past months, every “then” and “now” had compressed into a single blow straight to her chest. The air turned thick, heavy. Her breath faltered.

Her fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt tighter, but her skin felt numb — she couldn’t even tell what she was touching. A sharp spasm in her abdomen cut off her breath, squeezing her throat like a vice. A dull, uneven heartbeat pounded in her ears, drowning out every other sound.

— Evren, — she tried to shout, but only a rasp escaped her lips.

He felt the tremor in her body instantly. Without hesitation, he eased off the gas, swerved, and pulled over to the side of the road. Evren got off first, took off his helmet, and steadied her, helping her off the bike. He removed her helmet too and placed both on the seat. His hand held her firmly at the elbow.

Bahar barely felt the ground beneath her — it was as if it were slipping away.

— Come on, — he whispered gently, wrapping an arm around her, leading her to a bench beneath an old chestnut tree.

He sat her down in the shade of its wide canopy and took a seat beside her.

— Bahar, look at me, — his hand pressed gently to her back, while the other closed around her cold fingers. — I’m here. Just breathe.

She shook her head, refusing to open her eyes, but the darkness didn’t help. Images kept flashing through her mind: the white dress, the ceremony hall, those faces, Jennifer, the child, her “I can’t,” and then his flight to America.

She didn’t feel his fingers gently squeeze her wrist. What she felt instead was her heart pounding harder, forcing her to gasp for air like she’d just run a hundred-meter sprint.

— Evren, my stomach, — she winced, curling her arms around herself and bending over, nearly folding in half, as if that might ease the pain.

Evren turned pale. He touched her forehead — cold and slightly damp. His insides tightened. For a split second, it was all back: that same pallor, her slender fingers against white sheets, the machine counting down her rhythm. Him by her bedside, then the operating room… the new liver in his hands for her. That metallic taste of fear — it returned instantly, a cold wave down his spine.

— When was your last blood test? — he crouched in front of her. — Are you taking your meds? — He didn’t even try to hide his anxiety.

The fear for her — and the memory of what he’d seen in her past test results — came flooding back. Gasping for air, Bahar raised her head and looked into his eyes:

— I am, — her lips barely moved. — Last week, — she whispered, wincing. — Everything’s fine, — she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ride out another stomach cramp.

— When did you last eat? — he asked, eyeing her pale, trembling lips.

Bahar slowly opened her eyes, still breathing hard.

— I don’t remember, — she admitted. — Coffee. With Jennifer. Today.

— Bahar, — Evren cupped her face in his hands, — breathe. Look at me. You’re here. I’m right here.

She stared at him, but it was like she wasn’t seeing him — everything was blurry. Behind them came the sharp squeal of brakes. A car door slammed.

— What happened? — Yusuf rushed over, kneeling beside her.

— Water, — Evren snapped, and the guy was gone in a flash.

Evren leaned in, his voice gentler now:

— Listen to me… this isn’t a wedding, — he whispered. — We’re just together again. Everything else comes later, not all at once.

She blinked and looked at him. Her gaze trembled, just like her body, still shaking.

— Breathe… with me, — he kept her face in his hands, steady and warm. — Inhale… exhale… slowly.

He matched her rhythm until the tremors began to ease. Yusuf returned and handed over a bottle.

— Small sips, — Evren said softly.

She took a small sip, feeling the coolness soothe her dry throat.

— We’re not in a rush, — he murmured again, — we’re just walking side by side.

Bahar closed her eyes. Her heartbeat had eased, no longer pounding in her temples, but a dull hum still echoed inside, like the aftermath of a blow. The spasm was fading… slowly, as if reluctant to let go.

— What happened? — Yusuf asked quietly from behind Evren.

Bahar flinched at once, and Evren gently cradled her face again:

— It’s not a wedding, — he repeated. — We’re just together again. Everything else can wait.

Tears welled in her eyes. Her hand trembled, then fell onto his shoulder as she leaned into him, burying her face in his neck.

— Breathe… with me, — Evren whispered, pressing his face into her hair. — Inhale. Exhale. Just like that.

Bahar was still clinging to his shoulders, her face buried in his neck, when she slowly opened her eyes… Her vision was returning little by little — first outlines, then shapes began to form. She started to recognize things: cars passing by, people hurrying about their day. She even spotted Yusuf — but didn’t flinch. Instead, she wrapped her arms around Evren more tightly. They were together now — so she could, she had the right.

Her heartbeat slowly faded from her ears, and the invisible hand clutching her throat began to ease its grip.

— You’re afraid, — she heard his voice.

She flinched and slowly pulled back. Her eyes searched his, and her face revealed everything at once — exhaustion, confusion, anger at herself.

— I am afraid, — she admitted. — Of everything. All at once. — Her lips trembled, but she steadied herself. — A child… — she didn’t look away. — You want one. But what if it doesn’t happen? — she asked. — What if I can’t? What if I get scared and back out?

Behind Evren, footsteps approached. Hearing the conversation, Yusuf quietly stepped aside, still holding the empty bottle. He caught Evren’s gaze, and Evren nodded at him as if to silently say: it’s okay. Yusuf walked to the car but didn’t get in — he leaned against the door, facing them, waiting silently, just in case he was needed.

— Bahar, — Evren began, but she pressed her fingers to his lips, stopping him.

— I’ve only just started to live differently, — she said unevenly, pausing often, carefully choosing words so as not to hurt him — or herself. — You know, twenty-five years of marriage… — she swallowed hard. — Twenty-five years of just being at home. Breakfasts, laundry, cleaning, the kitchen… — she sighed. — An ironing board and sewing machine were part of the furniture of my life. My world shrank to four walls. I became nobody. I lost myself. I was only a mother and a wife. — She gripped his hand. — And now… — she tried to smile but couldn’t. — Work, people, surgeries… I save lives. — Her eyes glistened with tears. — I just spread my wings… — her voice trembled. — And now it’ll all shrink again? Back to the kitchen, diapers?

Evren was nearly kneeling in front of her, his eyes locked on hers.

— You think I’d take all that away from you? — he asked.

Bahar ran her fingers through his hair, traced the line of his brow, then found his hand and gently pulled him to sit beside her. He sat next to her on the bench, under the massive chestnut tree, its branches swaying slowly above them, the breeze rustling the sun-dried leaves.

— I think… that we both might not manage, — she turned slightly toward him. — I’m afraid that if I mess this up, you’ll leave again. Or I’ll run away. — She exhaled and looked away. — You know I’m good at that.

— I know, — he leaned toward her, his lips brushing her cheek. — You’re good at many things… and I’m not. — He whispered. — So we’ll figure it out together. You’ll show me — diapers, or maybe porridge in the morning… maybe pancakes for breakfast.

She smiled despite herself.

— Just remember, you never leave pancakes unattended, — she whispered, still smiling, but her tone turned serious. — You really think that won’t scare you?

— It will, — he admitted honestly. — But now I’m staying. Because all of that… I only want with you. And yes, — Evren nodded, — I want a child with you. — He took a breath, offering a soft smile. — But I won’t pressure you. It’ll be your choice. We’ll take as much time as you need.

She let out a sob and hugged him, burying herself in his chest.

— Even a shared shower? — she asked barely audibly.

— Very soon. As soon as we get home, — he held her tighter. — But first, I’m going to examine you and… — he trailed off.

— What? — she asked, not understanding.

— A medical checkup, — he clarified.

Bahar stared at him wide-eyed.

— Technically, — Evren smirked, — a real checkup. — He grinned, then added, — I’ll check your liver, — his face briefly turned serious.

— It’s fine, — she waved him off, watching him, silently urging him to go on.

Evren shook his head, laughing softly.

— I’ll check it anyway, — there was a stubborn note in his voice. — Then I’ll bathe you, tuck you into bed, cook dinner, bring it to you in bed — he rattled it all off in one breath, then stopped.

And as he spoke, her eyes widened more and more. She counted off each promise on her fingers, like a checklist. She ran out of fingers on her right hand and moved to the left… but he had fallen silent.

— And? — Bahar tilted her head, waiting, but he didn’t pick up where he left off.

— You know… — Evren suddenly glanced at Yusuf instead, as if he hadn’t noticed her quiet plea to continue. — Family isn’t just who we bring into this world. It’s also those already by our side.

Bahar followed his gaze. Yusuf stood off to the side again, once more a silent witness to someone else’s moment. But in his eyes there was warmth, care, presence. He could’ve left — but he stayed.

And Bahar understood exactly who Evren was referring to. Not Yusuf. He meant Cem.

— You see? — Evren said quietly, and she turned back to him. — We’re not alone anymore.

— You say that like… you really believe anything’s possible, — she whispered, not even sure how to ask him about Cem.

— I know it is, — Evren replied. — Because we’ve already made it this far — at least to this bench. That means we can go further.

— You have this talent… making me smile at the worst possible moment, — she shook her head.

Bahar exhaled and smiled — this time, without bitterness.

— It’s my professional skill, — Evren gazed at her lips with quiet hunger. — Second only to surgery. — His fingers brushed her cheek, and he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. — The first… is staying with you, wherever you are.

She swallowed hard, overwhelmed by how deeply she felt his desire. And in that quiet moment, beneath the chestnut tree, for the first time, they both sensed that the panic had passed — and ahead of them lay a new road, yet to be walked. He rose slowly and helped her to her feet. Together, they made their way toward the street.

— Evren, — Bahar clutched his hand. — “Home”… where is that?

She looked at him, standing beside the motorcycle. Evren had already picked up the helmet and was holding it out to her — then paused. He glanced at Yusuf, then back at Bahar.

— If I’m honest, I’d love to just grab you and run off on a yacht for a couple of days. Just you and me. I’ve missed you so much, — he whispered, his eyes lingering on her lips. — But, — he sighed, meeting her gaze, — we can’t afford that right now.

— Then where is our home? — she asked again, and a tremble ran through her.

— My home is wherever you are, — he leaned in and wrapped her in his arms. — My home is next to you. And like I said — we’ll figure it all out, step by step. — His lips brushed her cheek. — Don’t try to cram our whole life into one rushed decision made on the side of a street.

— I don’t understand, — she held tightly to his shoulders.

— Cem lives with me, — Evren pulled back slightly, raising a hand as if to ask her to hear him out. — And you… you’ve got Umay, the grandkids, Uraz and Siren, your mom and Reha, Nerva — and yes, Yusuf too. I can’t just pull you away from your whole family.

— But you’re part of my family too, — she answered too quickly, and there was a trace of fear in her voice.

— Then we’ll stay at your place for now, if you don’t mind me settling into your bedroom? — he looked into her eyes, watching the flicker of emotions dance across her face. — Someone’s got to make sure you’re eating properly and getting enough sleep. Then we’ll figure it out together — maybe we’ll buy a place next to yours.

Bahar closed her eyes for a moment, like she was exhaling, and when her blue eyes opened again, the panic was back.

— What about Uraz? — she remembered. — He was furious about the video and about Naz.

— Leave that to me, — Evren said calmly. — That’s not your burden. I’ve found a way to talk to your son before — I will again.

— And Umay… she and Cem broke up, — Bahar rushed on, going through her family members like a mental checklist. — And Cem — what happens then, Evren?

Evren stretched his neck and only then answered:

— I spoke to Rengin. The board wants an explanation, — he admitted. — I told Cem that this time, he’ll have to face the consequences.

— Evren, — Bahar pressed herself to his chest. — Will it come to a trial? — she whispered. — Can we let it go that far? Are you trying to punish him?

— Listen, — Evren leaned back just enough to meet her gaze. — You’re doing it again — trying to solve everything all at once. What matters most to me right now is you. Your health. So we’re going home, I’m going to check you over. I need to be sure you’re okay. Yusuf — go on ahead, we’ll follow, — he called out.

Bahar’s eyes widened, as if she’d forgotten they weren’t alone. Her gaze shifted to Evren’s lips. His words were having the opposite effect — they stirred something inside her. Behind her, the sound of a door closing, then an engine starting.

— Cem will think this is how you’re punishing him, — she said, still looking at his mouth. — He won’t forgive you for this.

— I don’t need his forgiveness, — Evren said sharply, watching Yusuf’s car drive off.

— He’s confused, — Bahar persisted, finally forcing herself to meet his eyes.

— Then we’ll help him find clarity, — Evren’s voice carried a note of irritation. — Are we going home now? — he held out the helmet to her. — Need help?

— Evren… what if he was your son? — she asked as she took the helmet. — What if you already have a child out there and don’t even know?

Evren didn’t answer right away. He froze, the helmet still in his hands.

— I really don’t know, — he admitted. — But that doesn’t mean I don’t want a child with you. And yes, I need to check you over tonight, and tomorrow we’ll do an ultrasound. You’ll take all the tests I prescribe. Bahar, — he stepped closer, — I don’t have all the answers. I’m not avoiding them — I just don’t know them yet.

— But something has to be done, — she said quickly. — We have to find that girl — she’s a woman now. We need to know.

— Bahar, — Evren took her shoulders and sighed, — if we don’t leave now, I’ll be forced to examine you right here on this bench.

She froze, bit her lip — and something sparkled in her eyes.

— You wouldn’t dare, — she whispered.

— You sure? — he took the helmet from her hands.

Evren gently placed it on her head. His fingers ran through her hair, lingering just a moment too long. As he fastened the strap, she stood still, letting him do it.

He got on first. Then she climbed on behind him. Her arms slipped around his waist, familiar and natural. Evren smiled — he’d missed this… missed her arms around him. He started the bike, kicked up the stand, and smoothly pulled away from the curb, merging into the highway traffic...

***

The hum of traffic drifted in from the highway. The café was nearly empty now, and people in white coats hurried past, finishing their shifts. Uraz sat in the corner like someone being punished, gripping his coffee cup so tightly it looked like he might crush it. Across from him, Doruk poked at his salad with a fork like it had personally wronged him.

— He put me on this shift on purpose, — Uraz exhaled, making the straw in Doruk’s drink tremble. — On purpose! So I wouldn't get in the way!

— And me? I’m on shift too, — Doruk shrugged.

— But you don’t live with us! — Uraz snapped. — Why are you even involved?

— Does the professor live with you? — Doruk frowned and took a sip.

— I told him how it would end. I told him! — Uraz was almost talking to himself now. — But no, the professor did what he always does.

Doruk sipped his cola through the straw and, without looking up, said flatly:

— He always does what he wants.

Uraz didn’t seem to hear.

— It’s all happening again, — he shook his head. — Just like with my father. My mom’s making the same mistakes. Going in circles again.

Doruk put down his fork and looked up.

— And once again… she’s not mine, — he said quietly, his voice heavy with sadness. — But I still have feelings for Bahar.

— Doruk! — Uraz snapped. — That’s my mother you’re talking about!

— I love your mom, Uraz, — Doruk said with a shrug.

He’d said it aloud before, many times. No one ever took it seriously.

They fell silent. Uraz stared at him like he wanted to argue — but had no words.

— I won’t let it go, — Uraz muttered. — I won’t let him ruin everything again.

Doruk looked up. His eyes were filled with stubborn pain. Eyes full of unreturned love.

— I still love her, — he whispered simply, pushing his half-eaten salad aside.

Silence. At a nearby table, someone dropped a spoon. The sharp clang made them both jump.

— We’re two idiots, — Uraz mumbled.

— I’m more of a romantic, — Doruk shrugged.

Uraz snorted and stood up.

— I’ve been humiliated! It’s like a curse! First my dad, now the professor — and you, too… — His voice trembled with fury.

— Don’t worry, Uraz. I’ll take good care of you… once I become your stepdad, — Doruk said with deadly seriousness.

Uraz’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.

— You’re insane! — he hissed through clenched teeth.

A few assistants at the next table burst out laughing, clearly eavesdropping on the whole exchange. Uraz and Doruk turned toward them.

— What are you staring at?! — Uraz barked.

Silence fell at the next table. Uraz and Doruk glanced at each other, turned in unison, and walked out of the café. But as they walked away, laughter followed them again…

***

The door lock clicked. A quiet laugh, a whisper — Bahar and Evren stepped over the threshold of her house. She tried to pull away, but he only tightened his grip on her fingers, not letting her hand slip from his.

— Evren… — she whispered, trying to free herself.

He shook his head slightly and pulled her with him. Bahar flushed the moment they stepped into the living room.