"And what about Christian, what three words would you use to describe your feelings for him."
Syed let out a deep sigh as he fiddled with the tissue in his hands.
"Wait," he put in, confused, "Three words to describe him... or to describe my feelings for him."
Alan took a moment. "You decide."
"It's just that you wanted me to say three words to describe my parents, but you said 'to describe my feelings' when talking about Christian."
"You're trying to delay, Syed."
"Not really, I'm just... saying."
"Three words."
He sighed again, loudly. Choosing just three words for Christian. That was going to be difficult.
So far in the session he'd already broken down in tears, something in him was slowly unraveling. All those good intentions, and the belief that he could be changed. That Alan could change him, that he would no longer have these feelings for Christian. So many of them.
But if he said three words, if he chose just three out of the countless possibilities then they would stay with him. They'd be said out loud, they'd be out there and they'd be the truth.
He wasn't sure he was ready for that. To allow the truth to be said.
Though he'd already made some sort of leap, he'd already cried about these feelings. Alan had seen him break down. Had sat there stone faced and faintly disapproving while Syed had blown apart all the work they'd done so far by saying out loud that these feelings were natural. That he was naturally drawn to Christian and it wasn't some lost aspect of his childhood crying out for help.
He swallowed, and ripped the corner from the tissue.
"Three words."
He'd do it, he'd take the plunge. Whatever three words he was about to say were just going to have to be the truth, be real, and he'd have to live with the consequences of saying them.
"Strong."
He saw Alan write it down.
"Confident."
Two down, one to go. And picking that last one was difficult. Dare he say the one word biting at the back of his throat, the one that meant more to him than any other. Or should he hide it, bury it in the therapy. Part of him was scared to say it in front of Alan, he didn't want the other man to know it. It was something for him and Christian and no one else.
What they did together. What they had done together in the past. It was for them, not the gossips on the square, not his family and certainly not for a stranger he was paying money to to listen and to help though, frankly, it just hadn't been working.
As he thought of the word the electricity built again inside him, even though Christian wasn't even anywhere nearby.
That's how much the word meant to him. Truly meant to him, despite how many times he could have said it of Amira or any other person he'd ever been with. With Christian it meant something different. Something deeper.
"Syed, I said three words, not two."
He cleared his throat and in that instant the confidence and defiance in him made him strong. Just like Christian.
"Love."
Alan's face dropped and Syed let his head fall forward again while he waited to hear what Alan had to say about that.
"Those three words," Alan began, "were they describing Christian. Or were they describing your feelings for him."
Syed sniffed and looked up again and with a shrug said, "Both."
"We're going backwards, Syed. I did warn you that seeing him so soon after everything with your marriage would be dangerous. You weren't ready."
"I'll never be ready."