Defne & Ömer: What if we had met at an airport instead?

Chapter 2: What have we become?

Hi everyone! Hope you enjoy chapter two which is a glimpse into what Defne and Omer have been up to for the four years following their wedding. All feedback is most welcome!

Omer

He entered the house as silently as he possibly could not wanting to wake any of its occupants, human or animal. It was 3.00AM and the last thing he wanted was to be confronted with questions about his lateness. He glanced at the gold band glinting on his ring finger before putting the keys down by the side of the door and walking through the house to get himself some scotch from the cabinet by the kitchen.

He hated it. The cabinet.

Who even had a liquor cabinet that looked like it belonged from the period of the Ottomans?

The cabinet's only saving grace was that it was always full, waiting for him every night knowing that he wouldn't be able to fall sleep unless he had had at least a couple of shots of whiskey on a particularly rough night and wine on the others.

The cabinet though was the least of his problems, he despised the house he lived in, physically mirroring all things Istanbul and home except in the way it made him feel. It had been especially designed for the upper east side crowd of New York who appreciated anything that wasn't from their side of the ocean. It wasn't like the house was not tastefully done up or that the artifacts, upholstery and furniture imported all the way from Turkey were not exquisite, it was the feeling the house and its contents left him with – the feeling that he was so far away from home, far away from all things familiar, far away from the place he had last loved and the feeling that he was somehow caught in the midst of a nightmare.

The house had nothing of his choice, not a room to which he could retreat with his books and his music, not a garden bright and bloomy overflowing with flowers so lovingly planted and while he had been asked if he had wanted to hang up some posters or set up a library as the one he had had in Istanbul, he had refused. This wasn't his home and nothing would make him feel like it was.

As tonight had been a particularly bad night, he gulped down four shots of expensive whiskey and dragged himself to bed, pulling off his jacket and tie as he went along and falling headfirst into bed otherwise fully clothed. He lifted his left hand and squinted up at the gold band on his ring finger and for just a moment he imagined himself wearing another band in another lifetime.

He slowly took off the ring and left it on the table by the side of the bed as the feeling of guilt engulfed him. It didn't feel right wearing this ring and he doubted that it would ever not feel so or that he would ever get used to wearing it. He especially felt guilty when he awoke from his dreams and saw the ring on his finger – it always felt like he had been cheating on the dreams and the feelings they evoked in him by wearing that ring.

Just as his eyes began to flutter shut, the sleeping figure on the bed next to him as if sensing his presence turned around and continued to sleep while facing him. For a split second he stared at her and imagined the blue highlights in her hair to be red but then that second was gone and blue was all that remained.

Defne

Defne was contemplating going blonde. It wasn't the first time in the last four years she had stared at her reflection and wondered if she should color her hair.

The last four years had changed her beyond belief. She had changed her address, moved countries, left her family behind, cut her hair short, got herself a tattoo, got herself a job, she was thriving at and most importantly, had matured way beyond her years.

So, what next could she change if not her hair color?

She often thought of her life so far as one with four stages – the first from before her parents had left, one she didn't remember too clearly. The second from after her parents had left, the period being painful initially, the realization of being unwanted hitting her hard every time she had had to take responsibility for the young Esra or the older Serdar and while she had believed that in all probability nothing worse could ever touch her, she had in that phase still found happiness in her two closest friends and her remaining family.