20 - Hopes for the future

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Yusuf

As we walked around the cottage following Sanem's voice calling us, I was confronted with a scene that my old heart struggled to absorb all at once.

Can was holding little Nihat in his arms, his eyes were closed and he seemed intent on inhaling his scent, it was the most touching scene I had ever seen in my life.
Fatherhood, in my opinion, must be a wonderful thing, it surely is, but in that moment I thought that for that boy, who had discovered it from one day to the next when in his life was already falling a storm of emotions of epochal dimensions, well  for that boy fatherhood was a devastating and exciting cyclone at the same time.

We both stopped in our tracks, Denise and I, enraptured by the tenderness of that moment. Sanem followed the direction of our glances and turned around to admire that scene.
Poor Sanem, who knows how much confusion there was in her mind and heart at this moment. Knowing the honesty of this girl, I could never think that she could prevent her father from seeing his son, she would never be able to do that.

She had spoken little of the boy in the previous months, it was clear that there had been a he and that things had not gone well between them since she was alone and living a pregnancy that she hid from everyone, even her family.

I had never asked her direct questions, only once had she confided in me that he was a free born spirit, that without his freedom he could not survive, he needed to go and she had to accept that.
Can had also spoken little about what had happened but one thing she had made clear: he had come back to stay, he had found no freedom and no happiness without his Sanem.
I hoped he could make it clear to this stubborn girl whose soul life had struck and hardened.

Can had slowly reopened his eyes, struggled to realize what and who was around him, and hurried to get up, return the baby to his mother's arms, and leave. He clearly needed some space alone to recover from the emotion he had just experienced.

I sighed, praying once again that these boys would find a way and the right words to be able to communicate for their own good and that of that little angel.

Denise

I stood still in front of the scene that had suddenly appeared in front of me. Can, there was no doubt that he was the man Sanem had told us so much about, was holding the tiny Nihat in his huge arms with a poignant delicacy.

Since I had learned of Sanem's story, I couldn't help but develop a certain aversion to this arrogant and insensitive man who had caused so much pain to what I had immediately felt was a dear friend.
How could he take advantage of the naivety of this young girl and then abandon her to her fate without any regard?

Sanem had never had any words of resentment for him, she seemed resigned to the fact that he was like that, that he couldn't help but leave.
Her soul was too delicate to hold a grudge even against the man who had turned her life upside down.

Now this feeling of aversion struggled to reconcile with the scene I was facing, only a man with deep feelings could hold his son in his arms with such an expression of ecstasy.

I saw him wince, realizing our presence, hand the child over to Sanem and turn away as if afraid to let his emotions show.
I followed him with my gaze wondering what his real intentions were and what role he thought he would play in my friend's life from now on, I hoped he wouldn't think of making Sanem suffer again because this time he would have to deal with me, I wouldn't have allowed it for anything in the world.


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