A MAN'S SORROW CUTS DEEPER

The hand that held the heart...

Sanem missed Can. The old Can. She missed his love above all, but she also missed the way his gazes made her feel, she missed the way his kisses made her yearn for more of them, and missed the way his touch and embraces made her wish he never let go...

She was trying her best to adjust to the situation they were made to deal with. True love conquered all, but how strong was it against the fact that one heart felt as if it never existed? Sanem was strong, stronger than she would ever admit, and stronger than she ever would have believed. She knew that if she kept fighting for their love and kept his heart in hers, she would find the strength to keep going. But strength was one thing, and finding the courage to stay strong was another. She was hurt because he left with his love. Now he was back but without his endearing love. How tragically reverse her situation had become. If only there was a way she could feel his hand back in hers, if only she could find a way to hold his face with her hand...

Ever since they realized their hearts lived to beat in one rhytm, Sanem loved the way her hand felt when she touched his face, caressed his beard. Her heart always went back to the moment she touched his face while her eyes were denied the sense of eyesight. Her eyes were covered with a bandana, and she had to rely on her hands to recognize the face they touched. She recognized other members of her team, and there was only one person left. Her hands went up ready to discover who hid behind the face she was about to touch. And she froze. She knew that face the moment her hands touched him. Or rather, her heart knew it. The fact that she knew him, even without looking at him shook her to the core. Each delicate inch after inch, his face etched itself in her mind, in that heart of hers. His face was irresistibly masculine, with a strong contour. A chiselled jaw hid behind the perfectly trimmed beard. His face felt as if it were carved by the most skilled of artists. She everso briefly placed her fingerips upon his lips. She dared not to linger in that most enchanting place for any longer, for just a mere touch of them made her yearn for more. And she knew that would have been forbidden. So she indicated she did not know the owner of that beautiful face. She would never admit it out loud that she already knew his face by heart. That she could never do. At least not at that moment.

From that moment on, her hands begged for one more time to be layed upon his face. And each time that happened, they begged to return there once more. And that yearning feeling never left her heart.
Her hands held within themselves the same kind of memory her eyes possessed. Each time her hands held his face, her love for Can grew. It grew deeper and stronger. The same way it grew deeper and stronger when she held it at the office sitting atop Can's desk after he professes his love to the world and to Polen and Hüma at Polen's book launch...

And it suddenly grew deeper and stronger the day they needed to pretend Selim was Arturo Capello. The moment felt so spontaneous. And it felt so right. Can acted like such a brilliant pro at improvisation that she could not help herself. She leaned in, and professed her praise for him. Her hand went to that place best known to her hand. And she felt the love rush in to her heart. That familiar feeling returned to her heart. And it yearned for more. But what's more, she could see he was affected by that touch as well. He looked into her eyes. Deeper than usually...

Even though the moment had been brief, it did not go unnoticed to either of their hearts. Can was affected by her touch, whether he admitted it or not. And he recalled Aziz's words, when Aziz asked Can to never let go of Sanem's hand. He was beginning to realize that Sanem held more than his hand in her hands. Hers were the hands that held his heart. Sanem understood that feeling. She was just looking for the right way to remind him and his heart of all that her love meant to him...