As the light filtered through the curtains, he drifted into consciousness, a fleeting moment of content and familiarity followed abruptly by a sense of something missing, an absence that made his heart and his bones ache. That he awoke in his boyhood bed in his old room explained the feeling of contentment, the fact that Christian was not sleeping beside him explained the ache. Being with him seemed such a distant memory that it had begun to feel unreal, as if all that shared love had never happened, even though Christian was literally next door. In their bed. Probably snoring. With all the covers.
A ghost of a smile appeared on his face at the mental image and his sleepy brain began to make decisions. It had to be today, now, this minute, if he wanted him back. Syed got out of the narrow bed, opened the curtains, pulled on the jeans Christian had bought him and hunted out his favourite T shirt. He bounded downstairs, prepared Yasmin's bottle and right on cue, could hear his daughter stirring in her cot.
"Morning! Here she is. And the bottle. You won't have to get up for a while. I'm off out. Back as soon as I can. Be good girls!" He didn't give Amira the chance to protest, ran down the stairs, grabbed his coat and slammed the front door behind him.
Syed didn't give himself time to prepare what he should say nor how he should act. He pressed on the door bell, stepped back and waited, biting his bottom lip, his heart pounding. No one came but the door buzzed and he pushed it open. No anxious wait by the door of the flat either, it had been left ajar. His heart still thumping, he slowly let himself in and took in the scene that awaited him. A spotless room, just how it had been, Amira's presence obliterated. Syed suddenly realized that he had let her leave a trail of destruction around the flat as it blocked out what the flat should have been like: tidy and neat, shared with a man with a big heart, who knew what he wanted, whose aims in life were direct and clear cut. Amira simply brought chaos with her.
And there was the man himself. At the kitchen table, a mug of coffee in front of him, an elbow on the table, a hand holding his sleepy head up.
"Sy… I thought it was Jane. What are you doing here?"
Syed was aware of Christian's tone: sad, tired, depressed. But there was more, there was a hint of panic in his eyes and in his voice.
"Have you forgotten something? I put all the stuff you and your little family left behind in the bag by the sofa. Close the door on your way out."
Syed hesitated after this rebuff and then decided to go for it, despite Christian's tone. He fixed his eyes on his and spoke slowly, "Yeah, I have forgotten something. Something I left here. Something I can't live without. I realized that in the night but I've known it all along. You. I forgot you. You are the most important person in the world to me and I forgot you. Yasmin came into my life, she bowled me over, I couldn't believe how much I could love someone so unconditionally, so fast but there you are. She's so precious to me and I thought you'd understand. I've always counted on you to understand, to put into words what I'm feeling. I've been completely selfish. I'm sorry, so so sorry. Please forgive me." Syed's eyes were now fixed on the floor, not daring to look up.
Christian's answer pierced his heart, "Yeah, I noticed but then I'm used to the signs. Family, the community, Allah, parents, girlfriend, wife, you name it, you always put them first and expected me to understand. Oh yes, Sy, I understand. I know what you're like. But guess what? I don't want that anymore. I don't want to be at the bottom of your list of people to please. You'll never change. You'll never love me unconditionally. So, as I said, close the door on your way out."
"Give me another chance. Please? We can't throw what we have away. You know that. We put so much into this relationship. We were engaged, we were going to get married. I love you. I always will. You are my special person. You still make my heart stop when I see you. Please, Christian, isn't that worth fighting for?"
Syed took a step forwards and Christian looked up, his voice hollow, "I don't know, Sy. Is it? How long for? Until Amira needs you to run round after her again? I always have to be the strong one. The one who does the talking. Who sorts you out. I can't do that anymore. It hurts too much. Did it ever occur to you that maybe I need someone to look out for me. To hold me tight at night, make me feel safe?"
"I can do that. I would give the world to be able to do that again. Let me try". And he leaned forward and cupped Christian's face with his hand, "Please?"
Christian pulled back, "What, like how you were with me when Ben was hurling accusations at me? Tearing me apart? Where were you then? Just rubbing salt in the wound if I remember rightly and believe me, I do remember. Every detail. Let's face it, Sy. You and I could be great together but it will never work, not for me. Not now."
"Christian, I'll never forgive myself for that. For hurting you. You didn't deserve that. Please can we start again, give me another chance?"
The door of the bathroom opened and a man wandered out, a towel wrapped carefully around his waist. Christian stiffened and Syed took a step back. Medium height, wavy hair and dark eyes, the stranger smiled at Syed, "Thought I could hear voices, hi, I'm Tom. Christian, where's the hair dryer?"