Kivilcim was running weekend errands with Fatma throughout the afternoon when she found her self checking her phone constantly. She noticed Omer hasn't called or texted about meeting up for dinner. She felt ridiculous that she was waiting for a call from him.
Sipping her coffee and enjoying the ambiance around her, she sat with Fatma and her daughters. Doga and Cimen sat side by side drawing in their notebooks, while Fatma and Kivilcim caught up with events of life and discussed their night at Omer's home.
Suddenly, her phone buzzed, drawing her attention away from her conversation with Fatma. It was a text from Omer, coincidentally. Her heart skipped a beat as she read his message: "Hey Kivilcim, wondering if you thought about what I asked last night. Are you free?"
I am out with Fatma and my girls. I can't speak right now.
Fatma noticed the change in Kivilcim's expression and leaned in with a mischievous grin. "Who's that, Kivilcim? Who got you smiling?"
Kivilcim put her phone down. "What smile, I am not smiling."
"You are! Who is it?"
"It's Omer. He's asking me to come over to his house for dinner." Kivilcim says hesitantly.
Fatma, raising an eyebrow, "Look at the man. He is head over heels for you. He won't let you go, Kivilcim. He really likes you..."
"How can you like someone you barely know, Fatma. He was looking for me for 8 years. Perhaps he has an obsession disorder." Kivilcim said seriously with a concerned look on her face.
Fatma laughed as Kivilcim's face turned serious, "Don't joke. Well, what are you going to say? You have to start somewhere if you want to get to know him."
"I don't know, Fatma. If I make the decision to tell him... what if this turns out to be a big mistake and he just disappoints Doga. There won't be turning back. On one hand, Doga and Omer deserve to know. On the other, our order is just fine the way it is. I don't want anything from him."
"Come on, Kivilcim! You've been dancing around each other. It's time to see where this goes."
Taking a deep breath "Okay, I'll go. I'll figure him out. For Doga."
Fatma smiled mischievously. "You're doing good."
Later that evening, Kivilcim stands outside Omer's door, her heart racing with anticipation as she rings the doorbell. When he opens the door, their eyes meet, and he gulps at the sight before him.
Kivilcim is wearing an intense red midi dress that hugs her figure. The cleavage in the front and back runs deep, with her hair up in a messy bun.
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Omer looks at Kivilcim warmly. "You look stunning."
Kivilcim was blushing slightly . "Thank you, Omer."
As they entered the hallway, Kivilcim was taken aback by the aroma spiking her senses and the effort he put in to create a warm atmosphere. The lights were dimmed slightly and candles lit on the table. "It smells amazing, did you cook tonight?"
