Seven years later…
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” I call playfully.
I hear Deniz’s chuckle, and knowing he’s behind the armchair his grandmother is sitting in, I pretend to search everywhere for him.
“It’s time for your bath,” I say, smiling at my mother as she reaches behind the chair to tickle him. Laughter bubbles from him. “Oh, I can hear you. Are you behind the curtain?” I yank the fabric back.
“No,” he shouts.
“Are you hiding…” I make a show of looking in the vases, “between the flowers?”
“Nooo,” he laughs.
Gabriel leans against the doorjamb, and crossing his arms over his chest, he watches as we play hiding-go-seek.
“Have you looked beneath the table?” Gabriel asks.
“I’m not there,” Deniz calls out, then suddenly he jumps up with what he thinks is a scary face. “Wha!”
He runs toward me, and I hold open my arms, sweeping him to my chest. “Ready for your bath?”
He nods. “Can I have hotcho…golate?”
“Just a little. It’s almost time for bed.”
Carrying our five-year-old while pregnant is no easy task. Gabriel takes him from me, saying, “You’re getting too big, little man.”
“Like you.” Deniz wraps his arms around Gabriel’s neck.
When we walk past a framed portrait of Babaanne, my heart squeezes with sorrow. She got to see her great-grandchild and spent three wonderful years with him before passing away in her sleep.
I smile at my husband and our son, Deniz, the spitting image of his father.
Entering Deniz’s bedroom, I head to the bathroom, opening the faucet so the water can run while I get his pajamas.
Gabriel and Deniz are wrestling on his bed as I pull the clothes out of the chest of drawers.
Giving them a playful scowl, I say, “Time to bathe.”
“You heard your mother.” Gabriel nudges Deniz toward me, making himself comfortable on the bed.
I take Deniz into the bathroom and help him out of his clothes. Checking the water, I close the faucets, then lift him into the tub.
As I begin to wash his body, he asks, “Tell me the ’tory.”
“Once upon a time, there was a girl named Lara. She lived in a mansion ruled by an evil dragon. He breathed flames and devoured anyone who came near him.”
“Like cookies?”
“Yes.” I nod, a soft smile around my lips as I scrub his feet. “Lara –”
“Like you?”
I nod again. “Yes, like Mama. She scrubbed the floors and washed the windows, staring at the world outside and wondering what it was like.”
Deniz splashes the water, wetting the front of my shirt. “Then Baba came!”
“Yes, I rode in on my black horse, slew the dragon, and stole the princess,” Gabriel suddenly says behind me.
I pull Deniz out of the tub and dry his body. Once I have him dressed in his favorite PJs, covered with tiny planes, Gabriel tucks him into bed.
“My hottochogolate,” Deniz demands.
Just like his father.
“I’ll get it,” Gabriel says, rubbing a hand over my pregnant belly before leaving the room.
I sit down on the side of the bed, caressing my fingers through our son’s silky black hair.
“Is it true?” Deniz asks.
“The story?” When he nods, I smile. “Yes. Your daddy’s my prince.”
“Am I one too?”
I nod, leaning forward to press a kiss on his cheek. “Yes, and one day you’ll also save a princess.”
“No, I’ll steal her,” he argues. “Just like Baba.”
I let out a chuckle. “Yes, you probably will, and then you’ll live happily ever after.”
Gabriel
Fifteen years later…
“Why are you so nervous?” Lara asks as she adjusts my tie.
“It’s her first date.”
She raises an eyebrow at me. “And?”
After twenty-one years of marriage, my love for the mother of my children still keeps growing.
“I’m just nervous,” I growl, unable to explain why. “I don’t want to fuck up tonight.”
“You won’t, Aşkım,” Lara assures me. She stands on her tiptoes and presses a kiss to my mouth. “I’m going to check on Alya. She’s probably still soaking in the tub.”
I nod, moving to stand in front of the mirror so I can make sure everything’s perfect.
When Lara leaves the room, I open the vault and take a box from it. I flip the lid open and stare at the platinum chain with a heart pendant made from sapphires, the color of her eyes. It lies on a bed of red velvet.
I hope she’ll like it.
I suck in a breath of air as emotion washes over me.
It’s my baby girl’s fourteenth birthday, and I’m taking her on her first date, so she’ll know how future dates should treat her.
If they get past me.
Closing the box, I leave the room to wait in the entrance hall.
“You look so handsome, Gabriel Bey,” Nisa says as she comes from the kitchen.
“Thank you.” I adjust the tie, then ask, “Is Deniz back yet?”
“No. I’m sure he’ll be home soon.”
“That boy’s testing my patience,” I mutter. “Since I bought him the R8, he’s never home.”
“He’s nineteen. Let him have some fun,” Nisa chastises me.
Movement catches my eye, and I turn to glance up as Alya stops at the top of the stairs. She’s wearing the pale blue gown I got her, stealing the breath from my lungs.
“Jesus,” I mutter, once again swallowing hard on the emotions in my chest. “You look beautiful, gözümün nuru.”
I now call her what my grandmother used to call me. The light of my eye. That’s what my daughter is to me.
When she reaches me, I stare down at my little girl, who’s growing up way too fast. I lift the box between us and open it, presenting my gift to her. “Happy birthday, Alya.”
“Oh, Baba!” Her face lights up as she carefully lifts the necklace from the velvet. “Will you help me put it on?”
“Of course.”
She turns so I can attach the clasp behind her neck, then beams a smile at me. I have to take a deep breath as I hold my arm for her, then I lead her out of the house and into the limousine.
My daughter shines like a star as I take hold of her hand, giving it a squeeze.
I clear my throat, then say, “If a boy doesn’t treat you like the princess you are, he’s not worthy of you. Tonight I’m going to show you what to expect on a date, and you won’t settle for anything less. Understand?”
“Evet, Baba.”
“This doesn’t mean I’m allowing you to date,” I warn her.
Her shoulders slump. “But when, then?”
“Once I’ve taught you how to defend yourself, so you can kick a boy’s ass if he tries to get fresh with you.”
Alya stops right before she’s about to roll her eyes, knowing not to even try that shit with me.
“It’s for your own good,” I mutter. “You need to be able to protect yourself.”
“When will you teach me?”
“Soon.”
Not for at least another two years. There’s no way I’m letting my little girl date before she’s sixteen.
The limousine comes to a stop in front of the five-star restaurant I booked for the evening. I help Alya out of the car, then lead her inside, where a single table waits, a candle flickering on the white table cloth.
I pull out her chair, and when she’s seated, I help her scoot forward. “The boy will always pull out your chair for you.”
“Okay.”
I take a seat across from her. “And he’ll open doors for you, stepping inside first so he can take the bullet instead of you. Never walk first. This is why your mother always stays slightly behind me. It’s for protection.”
“Okay, Baba.”
A waiter brings us a bottle of sparkling water and welcomes us.
When he leaves to get our food, I continue, “You will tolerate no disrespect. You’re a Demir, Alya. We come from a proud family.”
She nods.
“And if he touches you without your permission or makes you uncomfortable…” I shake my head hard, murder already coursing through my veins.
“You’ll kill him. I know that part already.”
“Don’t forget it.”
Our meals are brought to the table. I ordered Alya’s favorite, cheeseburgers and fries.
“Mama will be angry if she finds out you had a burger,” my daughter teases me.
“You won’t tell her.”
“Then let me go to a party on Saturday,” the little shit starts to negotiate.
“No.”
“Please, Baba. Everyone will be there!”
Letting out a sigh, I stare at her pleading face until my fucking heart melts.
God help me.
“Only if Deniz goes with you,” I relent.
“Yes! Thank you!” She darts up to give me a hug, making me smile from ear to fucking ear.
She’s just like her mother. Has me wrapped around her little finger.
Alya starts to talk about the upcoming party, and I don’t follow a word of what she’s saying. But I listen, nodding every couple of seconds.
When we’re done eating, her fingers brush over the sapphires.
“There’s a tracking device in it,” I say. Her eyebrows draw together as she glances down at it. “See the little button at the back?”
“Evet.”
“Whenever you’re in danger, or even just a little scared, press it, and I’ll come.”
And fucking kill whoever dares to threaten you.
“I’ll always come.” My voice cracks over the words.
“Seni çok seviyorum, Baba,” she whispers, her bottom lip trembling.
“I love you more, gözümün nuru.”
Jesus, I’m about to cry like a baby.
Clearing my throat, I stand up and hold my hand out to her. “May I have this dance?”
She wipes a tear from her cheek and lays her small palm in mine. I pull her into my arms, the safest place on earth for her, and steer her slowly across the floor.
Leaning down, I press a kiss on her hair. “You’ll always be my little girl.”
She nods, resting her cheek against my chest, just like her mother’s done a million times.
“Do you believe in true love?” she whispers.
“Evet.”
“Do you think I’ll find it?”
“Definitely.” I press another kiss to her hair, then promise, “Just like your mother and I, you’ll find your happily-ever-after.”
The End.
