The morning sunlight filtered in like silk through the sheer curtains, washing the apartment in soft gold. Sarper moved with a quiet purpose, shirtless in gray sweats, his hair tousled from sleep but his mind already fully awake—because the day didn’t start until she was pampered. Not just treated. Worshipped

The bathwater ran warm, gentle ripples lapping the edge of the porcelain as he poured in a stream of lavender oil. He inhaled the scent with a satisfied sigh “Only the best for my queen,” he murmured to himself, uncapping the jar of dried rose petals and letting them fall in a slow cascade across the surface. He adjusted the temperature with a practiced hand, testing it with the inside of his wrist “Perfect. Just like her,” he whispered, lips curving into that soft, utterly hopeless smile he only wore for her

Candles lit. Music on—nothing loud, just soft ambient strings and distant wind chimes. The entire bathroom was a warm, glowing temple by the time he padded back into their bedroom

He crouched beside the bed, brushing hair from her face, his voice low and tender “Güzelim... time to wake up, my love. Your morning kingdom is ready,” he whispered with a kiss to her temple. When she stirred, his grin deepened “No, no—don’t even think about moving. I’ve got you.”

He lifted the plush robe he’d been warming over the radiator and wrapped it gently around her shoulders, cinching the tie himself with a little hum of satisfaction “Look at you,” he said softly, eyes drinking her in like he was seeing her for the first time “You are everything soft in this hard world.”

Leading her by the hand to the bathroom, he opened the door slowly, letting the warmth hit her all at once “Lavender. Rose. And one devoted man on call for the next forty-eight hours minimum,” he said with a wink “Welcome to Sarper’s Spa, where you do nothing and I do everything.”

Once she was settled in the tub, he moved behind her, rolling up his sleeves and sinking to his knees. His hands found her shoulders, thumbs working slow, gentle circles into her skin

“You know, before you… I thought love was all control. All rules.” He leaned closer, breath brushing the side of her neck “But now I wake up every morning thinking—how can I make you feel safe today? How can I make you feel adored?”

His voice dropped to a near-whisper, the Turkish flowing out of him like a lullaby “Bir tanem… aşkım… her şeyimsin. You’re my only. My love. My everything.”

Another kiss—just behind her ear this time. His fingertips glided down the line of her spine, slow, reverent “I like this version of me,” he murmured “The one who worships you. Who earns you. Every single day.”

And then he smiled, that familiar Sarper smirk turned soft “Now relax. Let me do what I do best—take care of you.”