A Baby for the Billionaire

33

JULIET

The babbling of children tends to be the same. It is something that linguists often call "mother language" or pedagogy specialists as a "pre-language" with which children play and the environment is the one who is in charge of sanctioning which of these unions would be correct or which would not, in fact.

This "sanction" is configuring the "language". That is, the child's encounter with a set of rules that allow him to communicate: receive messages, decipher them and issue his own. The task is not easy, much has been theorized, especially from some French schools, about the "initial trauma of the human cub with the word." That mark that is never erased, indelible forever in the subject's psyche.

Yes, it's fascinating.

But the task of professionals in language work is to open up the range of possibilities for that child who is being inserted into the language, in the case of a creature as small as Ali. It is based on sanctioning that task that seems to be very arduous, what new unions are feasible to make so that it broadens its spectrum. That is why polyglot people tend to think even in more than one language at the same time. Because it results from that game of gurgling and babbling that implied unions and stumbling for the baby, that his approach to a language that goes beyond the one he listens to daily and learns, as well as conditioning, by imitation and by love, leads to his entry into English, Spanish, Turkish or Italian. The smaller the creature, it is believed that it is "easier" for it to learn many languages, and some over-demands become, but the little one is also in charge of sanctioning what it wants and what it does not. Because of some unfathomable "decision" of the being, some reject the possibility of communicating in any way and that becomes even more complex issues than learning a language at least, although it is not yet known if it comes from something neurological or from the context. Hence the "unfathomable decision of being".

It's not what I see in Ali.

He... is a wonderful, curious, communicative and cheerful, happy little boy. It is noticeable that his care on the part of Zara has been crucial for him to be so full of love and have that transformative capacity to soften anyone and appropriate their heart. Only a little one who has received immense love could behave in this way. The problem is that he is not receiving that affection from Kerem and it would be a shame if it never happens. He doesn't deserve it. Kerem has a fundamental role that he is unable to fulfill due to his own emotional wounds that he could only overcome with regular therapeutic treatment. And his meeting with me does not assure either of us inner peace because it is not that I have been able to exorcize my own demons precisely.

In fact, Mr. Deniz himself seems to be someone who rejects his own magnificence, as if he can't see how awesome he is. I suspect that his own life story had a lot to do with it, because only Zara could begin to change something like that in him, leaving too soon, leaving a little man in the process of building himself as someone eager for love and highly intelligent, in charge of another man with both identical qualities but with walls forged in solid ice around his inner world.

The point is that even the coldest glacier can suffer the consequences of a melt. And that is not without generating chaos.

A violent and wonderful chaos.

"Juliet?"

Ian finds me typing away at the computer at night, after a long day of just staying close to Ali, looking after him, and working in my role for which I was hired, trying to stay out of the crowd, Kerem's life and everything about him. I find myself typing on my computer, writing my own report summarizing my work with Ali, next to a cup of coffee that is prolonging my dinner hour.

When my boss's friend shows up to break into my plans to be nothing but a zero to anyone, I just don't want any more trouble for Mr. Deniz and I need a vile appeal to prudence because even my unconscious life reveals horrors to me in my nightmares.

"Eh... hello!" I greet him so as not to seem impolite.

He is standing next to me.

God, he smells amazing.

"It's nice to find you here, I think leaving earlier for an early dinner tonight had its advantages."

I swallow thickly and nod, uncomfortable.

"Well, yeah, that's fine. During quiet hours, the hotel restaurant is good for concentration" I point to my computer, trying to tell him that I'm working on something. Can't you see it, Mr. Sexy, millionaire and seductive!

Bah, it could not be said that he is trying to seduce me, but he is so attractive that any gesture from someone with that smile and that perfume can be interpreted like that.

"Wow, so you're working."

Yes!

"Uh-huh," I nod.

Please don't sit here, don't sit here, don't.

"Do you mind if I join you for dinner?"

Let him take me...!
"Well... no problem!"

I uncomfortably turn my gaze to the screen and try to make him see that I won't be able to pay attention to him, but I've just almost completely forgotten what the report I'm writing said.

"Fabulous. Were you going to dinner?"

I had not thought about it.

"Of course! Only a moment."

I go back to the computer to save, close and turn off, and then I must return to the man who is accompanying me at this dinner that should only end quickly so this day ends well. Or in the best possible way as it comes so far.

"Fabulous, Jules. Do you mind if I call you Jules?"

I always hated that nickname, but why does it sound so good on his lips?

"Don't worry, everyone calls me that." I laugh awkwardly.

"Amazing. Tell me, do you like sushi? This restaurant is very good."