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Part 13

🤖 Serkan POV 🤖

I woke, but it wasn't daytime yet. Eda was still asleep, her head on my chest, her hand hugging my waist, her breathing soft, and her face at ease. I could spend the rest of my life looking at her like this.

The doorknob rattled –Kiraz.

Careful not to wake Eda, I left the bed and walked to the door. Kiraz was before me when I opened it, her eyes welling with tears.

"You locked your door," she complained, but I could see tears escaping from the corner of her eye.

"It's not because I forgot to unlock the door that you are crying. What happened?" I asked gently. I crouched down and tried to pull her into my arms, but she distanced herself from me.

"No," she said. "I want Eda."

"Eda is sleeping," I informed her as softly as I could. "Let me help you," I offered, wiping the tears rolling down her face.

"I wet the bed," Kiraz responded, dropping her eyes, her lower lip trembling.

"That's something easy to fix. Let's give you a shower and change your pajamas. I'll put the soiled sheets on the wash."

My reaction confused her, though it seemed to calm her down, "You're not angry at me?"

"I'm not. I hope it doesn't happen again, but we won't discuss it right now. Right now, we're going to get you all cleaned up and back to bed. Gel," I said, offering my hand to her.

She took it and threaded her fingers with mine.

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🌟EDA POV🌟

I woke cold and alone in bed.

For a moment, what I'd feared last night after Serkan and I made love for the first time plagued me once again. That is until I noticed low voices not too far away. It wasn't time for anyone to be up yet; it was still dark outside.

I left the bed, wrapping a blanket around me and putting Serkan's slippers on. As I walked out of the room, I spied light coming from the room at the end of the corridor and walked toward it. There, in the middle of the room, was Serkan Bolat, combing Kiraz's hair while they spoke about something.

"But nightmares are just that –Bad dreams. They're not real. Sometimes I have them, too. Sometimes I realize they're bad dreams; sometimes I don't." He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I promise you, that awful feeling, it passes."

"But what if I dream of that again?" Kiraz asked, worried.

"Would you like to tell me what your dream was about?"

She denied it with her head.

"Then you don't have to talk about it, but maybe you could mention it to the doctor tomorrow when you see her. Maybe she'll have some tips for how to deal with nightmares and help the bad feelings go away."

Kiraz nodded in agreement.

Serkan was better at this parenting thing than he gave himself credit. He was genuine; he was himself - even if he was lecturing a five-year-old girl about dreams. Kiraz looked up at him with such admiration. To her, Serkan knew everything there was to know in the world. And he did, at least in her world. Serkan knew how to build her up and how to disarm her. He just hadn't learned how to say 'no' to her. Yet.

"Are you certain that I cannot sleep with you?" Kiraz asked, pouting at him.

"I think sleeping in your own bed would be better. You're all clean now, and so is your bed," Serkan prompted.