Fifteen years had passed since the night the sea carried a name away.
The Aksoy mansion remained intact and imposing, as if time itself had learned to respect those walls. The gardens were perfectly manicured, the windows reflected the soft light of late afternoon, and inside the house the air was filled with the delicate aroma of freshly brewed tea.
Kemal Aksoy was smiling.
Seated comfortably in one of the armchairs in the main living room, he lifted his porcelain cup with ease, watching Aysel Volkan across from him. She was an elegant woman with impeccable posture, her light hair discreetly pinned back. She drank her tea calmly, like someone already accustomed to that house and that man.
"It's hard to believe that tomorrow is the big day," Aysel remarked, a controlled smile on her lips.
Kemal nodded, satisfied.
"Time passes quickly when everything is in the right place."
Leyla Aksoy, seated a little farther away, did not share the same serenity. Her hands rested together in her lap, but her fingers moved restlessly. Since the beginning of the visit, her eyes had wandered frequently, as if searching for something out of reach.
"Emre traveled yesterday…" she finally said, breaking the silence. "Do you really think he'll be able to get back in time for the ceremony?"
The question lingered in the air for a few seconds longer than necessary.
Kemal set his cup down with excessive care before answering.
"Emre is a responsible young man," he said with polite firmness. "You and Ece need to get used to that. The Volkan family controls a network of jewelry stores spread across Europe. Travel is part of his routine now."
Aysel smiled faintly and nodded. Her eyes, however, held a discreet gleam—of someone who knew more than she let on. She knew her son had asked for a few days away for a bachelor trip with friends, far from obligations and family expectations. Still, she maintained her composure. Some truths did not need to be spoken aloud.
"Emre always comes back when he's needed," she added gently.
At that moment, the sound of footsteps echoed along the staircase.
Ece appeared at the top of the steps.
She was no longer the small child who had once run through the house, clinging to her father's legs. At twenty, she had become a young woman with a striking presence. Her black hair fell straight over her shoulders, contrasting with her fair skin. Her eyes were naturally bold and intense, yet restrained, as if she had learned early how to temper her emotions.
She descended the stairs with measured steps, feeling the weight of their gazes on her. There was something in her posture that betrayed nervousness—not explicit fear, but a quiet unease, difficult to name.
"Ece, dear," Aysel called, offering a warmer smile. "Come here."
Leyla watched her daughter with a mixture of pride and apprehension. For weeks, she had felt that tightness in her chest—the uncomfortable sense of being about to lose something she would never recover. The idea of seeing Ece leave the house to marry still felt unreal, even though it had been, in part, her daughter's own wish.
A carefully cultivated wish.
Influenced as well by Kemal, who had maintained business ties with the Volkan family for decades. The alliance between the families was old and solid, built on shared interests and silent favors. The marriage merely sealed what already existed in contracts and behind closed doors.
Ece approached Aysel, leaned forward slightly, and kissed her hand respectfully.
"I'm happy you came," she said with a polite smile.
"The pleasure is mine," Aysel replied. "You look beautiful."
Ece thanked her with a discreet nod and, without prolonging the conversation, headed toward the kitchen. She needed air. She needed to escape, even if only for a few minutes, from the weight of expectations.
As soon as she left the room, Leyla followed her with her eyes for far too long.
It was Aysel who broke the brief silence that followed.
"The meteorologists say there's a chance of rain tomorrow," she commented casually, lightly turning the cup between her fingers.
Kemal smiled, calm.
"I've already thought about that. I secured a covered venue for the ceremony. Everything's been arranged. Rain won't be a problem."
"You thought of everything," Aysel said.
Kemal inclined his head, as if accepting the compliment, then added, almost jokingly:
"Actually, I tried to rent the largest hall in the city. I thought it would be more… symbolic."
Leyla raised her eyes, surprised.
"And why didn't you?"
"It was already rented," he replied with a half-smile. "By a foreign company. I tried to handle it the traditional way."
Aysel lifted her eyebrows slightly.
"Traditional?"
"Threatening the owners," Kemal said, with calculated lightness. "They said they couldn't cancel. The person responsible for the rental had many political connections. He warned that if the contract were broken, he'd ensure the permanent closure of the venue."
He shrugged, as if commenting on something trivial.
"They said they were expecting important guests. Very important people."
Aysel smiled, intrigued.
"And did you find out who it was?"
Kemal shook his head.
"No. The name didn't show up anywhere. But from what I could gather… it sounded like the sort of thing an Eastern European oligarch would do."
A brief silence followed—not uncomfortable, but attentive.
Then Aysel smiled again, brushing away the weight of the remark.
"So not even the rain can stop this wedding."
At that exact moment, a loud sound cut through the air.
The thunderclap echoed close enough to make the windows vibrate. Leyla and Aysel let out small cries and brought their hands to their chests. Kemal lifted his head reflexively, his smile freezing for a brief second.
Then, almost at the same time, the three of them began to laugh.
A light, nervous laugh, as if the unexpected sound had shattered an invisible tension.
"Looks like we were heard," Aysel commented, still smiling.
"Just a coincidence," Kemal replied, easily regaining control. "Nothing more than that."
Outside, the rain began to fall, gentle at first, drumming against the mansion's windows.
In the kitchen, the atmosphere was simpler, more human. The smell of food mingled with the distant sound of conversation and the first patter of rain. Ece rested her hands on the counter for a moment, breathing deeply.
"You took a while," a familiar voice said.
Selin was sitting at the table, lightly swinging one leg. Her hair was tied back carelessly, an easy smile on her face. Unlike Ece, she did not come from a powerful family. She was the daughter of doctors, raised in comfort but without the weight of alliances and public expectations.
Friends since their school days, Selin was Ece's safe harbor—the only person with whom she did not need to measure her words.
"I thought you'd been kidnapped before the wedding," Selin joked.
Ece forced a smile and sat down across from her.
"Sometimes it feels like I already have," she replied quietly.
Selin tilted her head, studying her.
"Then why that look?" she asked, softening her tone. "You're getting married tomorrow. That's what you wanted, wasn't it?"
Ece looked down at her hands. The ring wasn't there yet, but the weight already felt real.
"I wanted to…" she began, hesitantly. "Or at least I thought I did."
Selin didn't say anything right away. She simply reached out and took her friend's hand, offering presence instead of answers.
Outside, the rain intensified, draping the mansion in a veil of water.
The eve of the wedding moved forward in silence.
And without anyone there knowing it, something that had been buried fifteen years earlier was beginning, somewhere else, to stir.