One evening, with your husband Ihsan, you were both comfortably settled in the living room, cuddled up on the couch while watching a movie on TV. The room was bathed in soft, dim light, creating a calm and soothing atmosphere. Ihsan, exhausted from his day, had fallen asleep with his head resting on your chest as your fingers gently ran through his hair. You could feel his steady, peaceful breathing.

Suddenly, you looked up to see the lamp swaying more and more. You immediately understood what it was and turned to Ihsan, still asleep, gently shaking him.

"Ihsan… Ihsan… Wake up! There’s an earthquake!" you said, panic starting to rise in your voice. You had always been terrified of earthquakes since you were a child.

Ihsan’s eyes snapped open, his expression becoming alert in an instant upon hearing the fear in your voice. He quickly sat up, assessing the situation as the house shook more violently.

"It’s going to be okay," he said firmly, his voice calm but resolute. He grabbed your hand, pulling you gently but firmly off the couch. "Come on, we need to get to safety."

The two of you hurried to the dining table, Ihsan wrapping one protective arm around you to guide you. The tremors grew stronger, objects began falling off the shelves, and the sound of breaking glass echoed through the room. Once under the table, he positioned you close to him, keeping you secure by his side.

"Stay here, I’m with you," he murmured, squeezing your shoulder, trying to ease your panic. He glanced around, staying alert for any additional danger.

"Just breathe with me, okay?" he added, placing his hand over yours to help steady your trembling. "We’ll get through this together. I won’t let anything happen to you."