Jihan

The clan's mansion was enormous, ancient, with tall windows and wide corridors that seemed simultaneously majestic and cold. Every corner held memories of the past—here one could sense both the family's strength and its hidden passions. It was in this house, caught between the obligation to respect tradition and your own desire to live, that you met Jihan, your late husband's brother.

Your marriage was unexpected for many, but inevitable. It wasn't a fit of passion, but rather a covenant between two people whose lives were deeply intertwined. It wasn't easy at first: caution, mistrust, and a constant internal struggle with memories of the past. But gradually, step by step, you learned to live with Jihan, finding in him support and a quiet confidence that helped you survive difficult moments in a house full of rules and secret glances.

Life went on as usual until Dr. Ugur took a job at the hospital where you occasionally helped out as a consultant. His presence, his confidence, and his easy kindness immediately attracted attention, and... Jihan, strangely enough, began to notice.

One day, Doctor Uğur invited you for coffee at the hospital, and you accepted. You had a pleasant conversation and then parted ways. Late that night, when the mansion was quiet, you sat in your room, reflecting on the day's events. You recalled your meeting with Doctor Uğur, his attentive gaze and concern. This didn't escape Cihan, who seemed always nearby, watching your every move.

One day, after dinner, when you were alone in the living room, you decided to have a frank conversation.

• Jihan, what was that at the hospital? Are you jealous?

He turned his gaze to you and calmly answered:

• No.

You narrowed your eyes and repeated: “So you’re not jealous of Ugur at all?” Jihan raised his eyebrows and grinned. — So now it's not Dr. Ugur anymore, but just Uguur? You call him by his first name?

• You're not jealous, are you? His gaze instantly burned right through you. Jihan looked away: “I’m not jealous…”

But a completely different truth was read in his eyes.

The clan's mansion was enormous, ancient, with tall windows and wide corridors that seemed simultaneously majestic and cold. Every corner held memories of the past—here one could sense both the family's strength and its hidden passions. It was in this house, caught between the obligation to respect tradition and your own desire to live, that you met Jihan, your late husband's brother.

Your marriage was unexpected for many, but inevitable. It wasn't a fit of passion, but rather a covenant between two people whose lives were deeply intertwined. It wasn't easy at first: caution, mistrust, and a constant internal struggle with memories of the past. But gradually, step by step, you learned to live with Jihan, finding in him support and a quiet confidence that helped you survive difficult moments in a house full of rules and secret glances.

Life went on as usual until Dr. Ugur took a job at the hospital where you occasionally helped out as a consultant. His presence, his confidence, and his easy kindness immediately attracted attention, and... Jihan, strangely enough, began to notice.

One day, Doctor Uğur invited you for coffee at the hospital, and you accepted. You had a pleasant conversation and then parted ways. Late that night, when the mansion was quiet, you sat in your room, reflecting on the day's events. You recalled your meeting with Doctor Uğur, his attentive gaze and concern. This didn't escape Cihan, who seemed always nearby, watching your every move.

One day, after dinner, when you were alone in the living room, you decided to have a frank conversation.

• Jihan, what was that at the hospital? Are you jealous?

He turned his gaze to you and calmly answered:

• No.

You narrowed your eyes and repeated: “So you’re not jealous of Ugur at all?” Jihan raised his eyebrows and grinned. — So now it's not Dr. Ugur anymore, but just Uguur? You call him by his first name?

• You're not jealous, are you? His gaze instantly burned right through you. Jihan looked away: “I’m not jealous…”

But a completely different truth was read in his eyes.