Efendi IV: Radiance of the Heart

– Let the whole world know.

And they went. He held her hand on the ice; she laughed, slightly losing her balance, but he caught her each time. Their laughter and breaths became one music, and the rink became the stage for their love-filled freedom.

Day and evening, woven from the two of them. The rink left a lightness in their hearts. Mary laughed like a girl, her cheeks flushed, her eyes sparkling—and he thought he had never seen himself happier. They left, hand in hand, stopping along the way at a small café.

On the table before them floated a cup of hot chocolate with cinnamon, two pastries, and a small vase with a violet.

– Did you notice? – he said. – Even the flowers are keeping us company today.

– That’s because we’ve become flowers ourselves, – Mary replied, her smile softer than the sugar on the dessert.

He watched as she lifted the cup to her lips, the warm steam brushing her lashes, and felt that every little detail of her was already poetry. Her fingers brushed his hand, and it felt as if fireflies ran along his skin.

After the café, they wandered the city for a long time. The sun slowly tilted toward the horizon, the air became crisp and clear, and lanterns lit one by one. Their steps fell in rhythm with their hearts. He whispered quiet words to her, almost like incantations:

– Mine, mine, mine…

And she answered as if she knew the language of his soul:

– And I’m yours, forever.

When they returned to the hotel, the night had fully embraced the city. The room was dimly lit, and outside the window, the lights twinkled. He brought out another surprise—champagne and fruit.

– You’re incorrigible, – Mary laughed, but in her voice was so much gratitude that he realized it was exactly these little “silly things” that stayed in memory for a lifetime.

They sat on the windowsill, holding each other, drinking champagne straight from the glasses, looking at the city. Her hair brushed against his face, her breath sweet like wine.

– You know, – she said, – I used to think happiness was something far away. But it turns out—it’s simply… being with you.

He kissed her lips, and they became the flavor of the evening.

And love returned to them again. This time slowly, smoothly, like a second wave softly wrapping around the shore. Their bodies danced to the rhythm set by their hearts. It was not the passion of the night or the playfulness of morning, but the music of trust.

They loved each other so fully that even the walls of the hotel seemed to breathe with them.

They fell asleep later than they had intended, but they slept smiling.

A day woven from love. They had returned from the rink, laughing and holding hands. Snow still sparkled in her hair like scattered diamonds, and he gently brushed a small flake from her cheek with his palm.

– You’re the most beautiful, even when frozen, – he said, and Mary smiled in a way that made his heart tremble.

In their room, warm light glowed. On the table, breakfast he had ordered in advance awaited them—fresh croissants, aromatic coffee, chocolate-dipped strawberries. Mary had removed her coat, remaining in a light champagne-colored dress. Her hair flowed in waves, her skin glowed with warmth, and her long legs in sheer stockings seemed the embodiment of elegance.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

– You are my celebration, – he whispered.

– And you are my peace, – she replied, touching his temple with her lips.

They ate slowly, as if breakfast were a continuation of their closeness. Every sip of coffee was like a confession, every bite of strawberry like a kiss.

After breakfast, he gave her roses—delicate, crimson, as if they had preserved the breath of the night. She pressed the bouquet to her chest, and her eyes shone, as if the roses were not flowers but a revelation.

Their love spread between them again—softly, deeply, with that tenderness known only to those who truly love. Their breathing became a rhythm, the pauses—music. He kissed her lips, sweet and raspberry-colored, each kiss like a new dawn. Her body responded in every cell, and at the same time, their souls seemed to sing the same melody—simple, yet eternal.

– I love it when you look at me like this, – she whispered, – as if I were the only one in the world.

– Because you are, – he answered.

They dissolved into each other, their love like the continuation of a dream—a reality where words were unnecessary.

Later, when the day brightened outside, they decided to go for a walk. Through the streets, they held each other’s hands like children. Mary’s laughter rang lightly; passersby turned to admire her beauty, but she looked only at him.

In the evening, a surprise awaited them—a rink under the starry sky. Music played, lights flickered, and gliding on the ice, they laughed as if reliving their first date.

And that day, from morning to evening, they discovered a simple truth: love has no hours. It either exists, or it does not. And if it exists, every moment becomes eternity.

The next morning, the city awoke under a light mist. The air was fresh, and Mary still slept when Efendi quietly stepped outside—to walk, to think, to pray in his heart for the happiness Allah had granted him.

He walked along the waterfront when he noticed a man standing at the edge of a bridge. The wind tousled his clothes, his step was unsure, his gaze fixed on the cold water below. People passed by, but no one dared stop.

Efendi approached calmly, without shouting, as if afraid to startle a bird.

– Brother, wait, – he said gently. – What are you trying to do?

– I have no strength left, – the man whispered. – No one needs me. Everything is lost.

Efendi looked directly into his eyes.

– No, brother, not everything is lost. The most valuable thing you have is already yours. Life. It’s not yours—it is a gift from Allah. He gave it to you to face trials, not to run from them.

The man lowered his head. Tears ran down his cheeks.

– I can’t…

– You can, – Efendi said firmly. – Because life is struggle, and its purpose is to overcome all trials. Do you think I have had no pain? Everyone does. But Allah tests those He loves—to strengthen them.

He held out his hand.

– Come. Together. Today you start anew.

The man trembled, stepped back, grabbed Efendi’s hand—and as if returned to life. People finally stopped; someone called an ambulance, but the most important thing had already happened—the soul that teetered on the edge chose to stay.

Efendi embraced him.

– Brother, you are not alone. Remember this.

That evening, returning to Mary, Efendi looked at her for a long time—at her lively eyes, her smile, the tenderness that warmed his heart. And he understood: the greatest happiness is to give yourself, to give protection and care.

At dinner, he took her hand and said:

– I have a gift for you, one I’ve held in my heart for a long time. This is my mahr for you.

On the table lay an envelope with keys. At first Mary didn’t understand, but opening the documents, she gasped—a New York apartment, in a building with a view of Central Park.

– This is your home, – he said. – So you’ll always have a place where you feel safe.

Her eyes filled with tears. She embraced him, pressing her body to his, whispering:

– You… are the most precious. You are my life.

And he smiled, touching her lips:

– Tomorrow we’ll go there. To New York. We’ll begin our little journey.

And the night became their universe again. But this time, in their closeness, there was something more—gratitude for life, the breath of faith, and the sense that Allah Himself guided their path.

Trials and revelations. The night in their hotel breathed in silence. Outside, the city slept, the rare hum of cars, and lights flickered like fragments of stars fallen onto asphalt. Efendi lay beside Mary, stroking her hair, listening to her breath, and suddenly, as if opening a door in his heart, spoke of what is not easily said.

– You know, Mary… I have children. And three wives. They are my family, my support. This is part of me. And I cannot hide it from you.

He spoke without haste, with a seriousness carrying his entire journey—trials, losses, joys, and long searches.

Mary listened attentively. Her eyes, full of gentle light, did not waver. She smiled softly, placing her hand on his cheek.

– I know everything, Efendi. – Her voice was like a lullaby, soft and confident. – I learned from the internet, from your pages.

He flinched—surprised, almost embarrassed.

– And you… are okay with it?

Mary laughed lightly, clearly and sincerely, like only a girl confident in her choice can. Her eyes sparkled like the night city lights.

– Everything is fine with me. I will be the fourth. – She touched his lips with a short, warm kiss. – And you know… I’m happy to be by your side.

Efendi held her close, and the weight he had carried for years melted inside him. In her words, there was no jealousy, no fear. Only acceptance and the desire to follow him, wherever fate might lead.