Chapter 1

"I love her very much, and we've never been happier, she's perfect for me," Syed says brightly as he removes the tray of cold chicken from the fridge and hands it to Christian. As he reaches for the second tray, he hears a crash and suddenly a pair of strong hands circle his neck. Before he can get a word out, the hands tighten and he can't breathe. He tries to pry them loose, but he's not strong enough. Then he hears his father's shocked voice from the doorway, "Christian, what the hell are you doing?"

"He's gay," Christian replies bluntly, without removing his hands.

"Are you mad?" asks Masood, disbelievingly. "Of course he's not gay. He's a happily married man, in case you've forgotten."

"HE'S GAY, HE'S GAY, HE'S GAY," shouts Christian, his voice full of pain, as his hands tighten their grip even further.

The last thing Syed hears before he loses consciousness is his father saying, "Oh, well if he's definitely gay, then carry on, don't let me stop you. We'll leave you too it, come on Zee, lets …"

Syed jerks awake, grasping for air and covered in perspiration. He instinctively reaches up to feel his neck, expecting it to be bruised and painful to touch.

"Christian!" he thinks to himself in amazement. He feels Amira stir beside him, and realises he's said it out loud. Terrified of waking her, he slips out of bed, grabs his clothes and tiptoes out of the room and into the bathroom, where he gets dressed.

As he walks along the deserted Square, he imagines telling Christian about his dream.

"I haven't slept properly in weeks, and then when I do manage it, you try to kill me," he would say mock-seriously.

"Listen to your dreams, Sy; I could snap you like a twig," Christian would respond, playfully reaching for his throat.

"Get off," he would say, laughing and grabbing his hands as they reached for him.

"Even in your dreams, you can't escape me, because you don't really want to, do you?" Christian would then add growing serious; noting that Syed was not letting go of his hands.

"Mum and dad were in the dream, too; it doesn't mean anything," Syed would weakly try to defend himself.

But Christian would then lean towards him and whisper in his ear, "You love me, you want to kiss me," in that soft silky voice that he knows always gets right under Syed's skin, and his lips would slowly move from his ear to his mouth …

Syed desperately wishes he could go and tell him about his dream … From nowhere, he feels a powerful burst of emotion explode in his chest, and suddenly he's crying so hard he has to push his fist into his mouth to stop the harsh sobs from escaping. Without really being aware of where he's going, he finds himself by the swings. He staggers onto one of them, almost falling backwards before regaining his balance. Once settled, he rocks back and forth, trying to calm himself down. It's freezing cold, even though it's the end of March, and he pulls his jacket as tight as he can around him to try to keep warm. His mind starts to wander, and he loses himself, as he has done many times recently, in remembering their first meeting and all that happened from then until the day he told Christian he loved him. He always tries to stop after he has relived that perfect day.

Christian has been awake for almost an hour; it's still only 5am, and he's exhausted but cannot settle. Whenever he closes his eyes, he sees Syed's beautiful brown ones; usually full of pain, but sometimes full of mischief or desire – oh how he misses the good old days. He has tried watching TV, but nothing grabs his attention. He picks up a book, but drops if after a few minutes. He wanders over to the window to see if anything interesting is happening in the Square, and spots Syed. He has never seen anyone look so vulnerable, miserable and alone. His eyes immediately fill with tears. "How can one person or one group of people destroy two lives and be so sure they are doing the right thing, not even have a moment's doubt about what they are doing, be so closed off, unbending?" he thinks angrily, and not for the first time over the past few months. He knows there is no use in going out to him, because Syed would either push him away, or be unable to push him away and hate him in the morning.

Christian is not (very) conceited when it comes to his looks, but he knows, has known from the beginning, that he has a very strong affect on Syed; it's in his eyes when he looks at him; in his body language when he's near him – he has never met a guy who is so responsive to him, so aware of him, and only him - sometimes it's the only thing Christian is sure of. Ironically, since his marriage, Christian senses that Syed has found it even harder to keep away, even though it's only about friendship for them right now. After the wedding, Christian expected Syed to avoid him, at least for a while, but the opposite has happened; and he knows it would take very little pressure to get Syed back in his bed. But that's not enough for Christian now. He can't live in Amira's shadow. The wedding changed everything for him. Hard as it is to watch, he knows Syed has to go through all this torment, so that he can come out the other side knowing he hasn't got a choice about who he must be with. That way there will be no regrets when they begin their life together. And no matter what Syed says, Christian truly believes it's a matter of when and not if this will happen.

Syed checks his watch - it's 6.30am; and since Amira doesn't usually get up until around 8, he figures he has at least another hour before he has to go home so as not to be missed. He wonders what Christian is doing now, and figures he's probably sleeping soundly, taking up the whole of the bed, their bed; he misses their bed so much. A horrible thought enters his head - Christian might not be sleeping alone for much longer; he instantly pushes it away. He knows that staying in the Square and seeing Christian every day is only making his situation worse. He has thought about suggesting to Amira that they move away; her dad could put them up for a while until they've gotten on their feet. But then he thinks about the way he felt when Christian left for Barcelona before Christmas, when he thought he was never going to see him again, and immediately drops the idea. Not seeing him or being able to talk to him whilst they were on honeymoon for those two really long weeks was hard enough.

Having fallen into a troubled sleep, the next time Christian wakes it says 7.35 on the clock. He gets up to go to the bathroom, and on his way back takes a quick look out the window to see if Ian's car is still outside - Ian was supposed to go to the cash and carry first thing. What he doesn't bargain for is the sight of Syed still sitting on the swing. "God, how can he still be sitting there, he'll freeze to death," he thinks worriedly. His immediate idea is to pull on some clothes and go straight out and bring him back to his flat, but then from nowhere a rage takes hold of him. "This is just ridiculous," he thinks angrily, punching the windowsill in frustration. "Enough is enough. I've let him live his life for the past few months, I've watched him suffer without getting involved, but no more."

Vaguely, Syed becomes aware that he can't feel his toes or his fingers, and that he's never felt so cold. Looking at his watch, he is startled to realise that it's almost 8am. "I need to get home," he thinks, quickly getting up off the swing. "Christian might soon be out and about, he doesn't like to sleep in, even when he's not due to be working. I should really be getting home, mum and Amira will wonder where I am. Christian usually has breakfast in the Cafe. Maybe I could have breakfast in the Cafe, just for a change. There's hardly any chance I'll run into him ..." Then, suddenly he is jerked out of his musings when Christian's door opens; he hadn't realised he'd been staring at it all this time. Christian walks out, looking tanned and relaxed. He crosses the street and enters the park in the middle of Albert Square.

Without thinking about it, his heart pounding, Syed runs towards the park and enters a little further up. He then walks in Christian's direction until he "accidentally" bumps into him.

"Oh, hi, didn't expect to see you at this time of the morning," he says breathlessly. "It's a bit early to be starting a bar shift, isn't it? I'm on my way to the wholesalers," he adds all in a rush. And before Christian can answer, "Where've you been? You haven't been around for over a week, you've got a tan, have you been anywhere nice?"

"Hi Syed," says Christian calmly. "I've been to visit my mother in Spain."

"Oh, that sounds nice. Hope you had a nice time, and that she's keeping well. We should go for a drink to catch up. You can tell me all about it. I've never been to Spain. What's ..."

"She wants me to come and live with her for a while," Christian says flatly. "There's a job going in her local bar. They're looking for someone to run it."

Syed reaches out his hand and grips the street lamp he's standing next to. "Do you think you'll take it?" he asks, a slight tremor in his voice.

"I think it would be for the best, don't you?" Christian replies dryly.

"Well, you didn't stay gone long the last time you went to Barcelona, did you?" says Syed spitefully. "If you didn't like it then, what makes you think you'll like it this time?"

"I thought I had something to come back and fight for before Christmas, but now there's nothing to keep me here," Christian says bluntly. "And the social scene in Barcelona is really great; a week of partying really brought it home to me just how miserable and boring my life has been the last few months; it made me realise that I miss my old life."

"You may be pretty, but you're not much fun these days, are you?" Christian adds for good measure, with a little smile.

Unable to respond, Syed bows his head before Christian can see the pain he's inflicted.

"Anyway, I've got to get going," Christian adds breezily, "I'm opening the Cafe for Ian this morning. By the way, no offence, but you look like shit." And with that, he walks away with his customary swagger.

He gets as far as the other side of the park before he lets himself look back. Syed is still standing exactly where he left him.

Sometime later, Amira walks into the Cafe. "Hey babe, where've you been? she asks excitedly, giving him a big hug.

"Hey yourself," says Christian warmly. "I've been in Spain visiting my mum."

"Lucky you, getting away from this miserable weather, even for a week," she says, sighing wistfully. "Don't suppose you've seen Syed, have you? He'd already left when I woke this morning. Mum thought he might have gone to the MQ, as we have a large order to get ready for this evening, but I've just been there and the doors are still locked."

"I spoke to him for a few minutes, earlier," he replies, thinking bitterly that as usual someone is lying to the poor cow, "and he said he was going to the wholesalers."

At 10am, Bianca arrives to take over, and Christian heads back to the flat to grab a shower and change of clothes before starting his shift in the Vic at 12. As he enters the Park, he is horrified to find Syed sitting on a bench near where he left him almost two hours earlier.

"Syed, what are you still doing here?" he asks urgently rushing over to him, but Syed just looks up at him vaguely, without answering. He takes his hand, and is shocked to find it's like a block of ice. "Let's get you out of here," he says gently, putting his arm around his shoulders and helping him up.

As they make their way towards Christian's flat, they run into Billy (Mitchell).

"What's wrong with him?" he asks, when he sees the state Syed is in.

"He's just found out the Pussycat Dolls are breaking up," Christian says absently without stopping.

"Who?" asks Billy, but he doesn't get an answer.

As soon as they enter the flat, Christian brings Syed straight into the bathroom, strips him and puts him under the hot spray of the shower to try to warm him up. He then goes to heat up some soup.

After about 20 minutes, Syed walks out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. When he sees him, Christian has a flashback to happier times; but then he notices that Syed has lost weight, and that his eyes have lost their sparkle. It takes him a moment before he can speak.

"You feeling a little better?" he eventually asks, as he hands him the soup and some bread.

"Yea, I'm fine, thanks," Syed answers politely, avoiding eye contact. While he drinks the soup, Christian goes to get him something to wear.

"I can't believe it's already after 10," he says, laughing nervously, when Christian returns. "I must have completely lost track of time."

Whilst Syed pulls on Christian's shirt and trousers (which swamp him), he is slightly turned away from him, and Christian allows himself the luxury of staring openly at this beautiful man. He feels keenly the unfairness of their situation. "We love each other so much, how can it be wrong?" he thinks sadly.

"Didn't anyone notice you sitting there staring into space for so long?" he asks, his voice not quite steady, when Syed turns back towards him.

"Lucas came up to me at one point, to ask if I was okay," replies Syed. I told him I was fine. He offered to go and get mum or Amira, but I told him I was just taking time out and preferred to be by myself. He said if I ever needed to talk, the doors of his church were always open. I think he got a bit uncomfortable when I started laughing and then couldn't stop. He walked away after a few minutes."

"I'm really okay, honestly," he insists weakly, shifting uncomfortably under Christian's concerned gaze.

"Well if you're sure, then you'd better get going," Christian says abruptly, completely changing his tone. "Amira's been looking for you, and I'm sure it won't be long before Zainab comes sniffing around if you don't report for husband duty."

"Leave?" asks Syed anxiously, but Christian is already on his feet and heading for the bathroom.

"Was it busy in the cafe? Who took over from you, was it Jane?" he asks hurriedly, getting up and following him.

"I have to have a shower and get ready, I'm working in the Vic this afternoon, so if you don't mind," Christian insists, closing the bathroom door in his face.

"Whilst I was sitting on the bench, I was thinking," Syed says, his voice rising in desperation, "maybe once you're settled, I could come and visit you in Barcelona. Maybe we could open a bar there together. If we were in business together, it would make sense for me to spend a lot of my time there. I could split my time between here and Spain. Amira will be busy with the kids ..."

"Get out Syed."

"We're friends," he begs, "I want to be your friend."

The only response he gets is the sound of the shower. He stands indecisively for a few moments. He knows he should leave, but can't help himself; he opens the bathroom door and enters, and is transfixed by the sight of Christian standing naked under the spray.

"I want to be your friend, Christian," he says huskily, moving forward, mesmerised, his hand instinctively reaching for him.

"To be honest," says Christian turning to look at him with cold eyes, "without the sex you're not enough for me, maybe you never were."

"Syed staggers back as if he's been slapped, the colour draining from his face. "Don't, don't you say that," he sobs. "You don't mean that, you can't mean that," he cries. "Why are you being so cruel to me. You've, you've changed," he stammers, his arms crossing in front of him, trying to protect himself.

"No, Sy, I've changed back," replies Christian icily, "and you're not my problem anymore."

Devastated, Syed slowly turns away from him, and walks out the door.