You and your husband Orhan had hired a man named Stewart to redesign the living room. At first, he came during the day, bringing sketches and samples, but after two weeks he was practically part of the household—sharing meals with you, leaving his coffee mug in the sink, and painting walls late into the night.

One afternoon, while Stewart was rolling a fresh coat of pale blue onto the biggest wall, you and Orhan were standing nearby, talking quietly. Orhan held up a tie against his shirt, looking at you with a hopeful little smile.

“Canım,” he asked, tilting his head, “what do you think about this tie?”

Before you could answer, Stewart glanced over his shoulder, brush still in hand.

“Nah,” he said casually, as though he’d always been part of the conversation. “Too casual. Wear something sharper.”