Gönül Hanım’s famous cherry cake and steaming teas had been served on the wrought-iron table in the garden. Gönül Hanım looked at Kerem with a smile and said, “Kerem, my boy, Selin is in your care. I’ll go inside for a bit and tend to those flowers,” leaving them alone. Actually, her purpose was to help Selin cheer up a bit.
At the table sat Kerem, Selin, and of course Murat, looking at the cake plate in the center as if he could actually taste it, with appetite.
Murat brought his nose close to the cake and took a deep breath. “Selin, this woman is a genius. The scent of cherry is reaching all the way here. I wish I could take one bite, this is literally torture,” he said with fake sadness.
Selin giggled and turned to Kerem. Since Kerem knew who Selin was laughing at, he pointed at the
