Lost and found
Chapter 1
Syed was bored. The house was empty and silent, everyone else having decided to do something useful with their weekend. His father was helping Tamwar decorate his and Afia's new flat and his mother had gone shopping with his little brother Kamil - who was in desperate need of some new clothes. He was three now and was growing bigger everyday Syed saw him – which was often as he hardly ever left the house these days. He wasn't really sure how it happened, but one cold and rainy morning, he had found himself making his excuses to his family, bolting out of the living room and up to his bedroom. Only it wasn't his bedroom any longer. It was theirs.
Closing the bedroom door, Syed moved towards the bedside table and opened it. Inside was a gold-framed photograph. It was their wedding day, supposedly the happiest day of his life. Yet from the expression on his face, anyone seeing the photo for the first time would think it was the worst. Only Syed knew just how true that was. Screwing up his eyes, he placed the photo down onto the bed and cried. He cried for himself, he cried for his family, and he cried for her. She had done nothing to deserve this, yet he was breaking her trust everyday of their life together as man and wife. He hated himself for it. He hated every single day, for he would be forced to pretend, forced to be someone that he could never truly be. One of his biggest regrets was marrying her, to involve her unwittingly in his life of lies, to take something so precious from her; something that would destroy her if she were to ever find out it was taken to prop up an untruth.
He put the photograph back into the drawer, stopping suddenly when he saw the torn edge of a piece of paper. It was crumpled, almost like it had been screwed up in anger, but kept anyway, hidden away from prying eyes and nosy mothers. Written, in scrawled handwriting, were a name and a phone number. It was his phone number.
For two years Syed had struggled to forget his encounters with him. He had last seen him two months before the wedding. His mother and wife-to-be were too busy planning their perfect wedding to bother him, and Syed, feeling uneasy, had quietly slipped out of the house and headed for the nearest bar. He wasn't used to going to bars, for he never drank, but something kept him coming back every week. As soon as he saw him, Syed's stomach tensed. For a split second, he wanted to turn and run home as fast as he could, back to the sanctuary of his unsuspecting family. The choice was made for him when the man turned and smiled knowingly at him. Syed walked slowly towards the bar, avoiding eye contact with everyone but the smiling man. The man indicated to the barmaid that his shift was finished and he was leaving, and after a curt nod in acknowledgement, the barmaid turned away.
Picking up his coat on the way, the man left the bar through the employee entrance. Syed hesitated momentarily but soon followed silently behind. They walked a short distance along the busy street before either of them spoke.
"I didn't think I'd see you back again, not after last time"
"I know. I'm sorry about that. I panicked. My mother was phoning me. I didn't know what to say to her"
"The truth?" the man ventured hopefully.
"You know I can't do that" Syed replied coolly.
"Why? I love-"
"Keep your voice down", Syed whispered furiously, elbowing the man hard in the ribs.
"Alright, alight. I'm sorry"
Stopping outside the entrance to a block of flats, the man unlocked the door and indicated for Syed to come inside. Syed faltered briefly, torn between remorse over his oblivious fiancée and his desperate desire to feel everything he always felt when he was with this man. Enquiring green eyes watched eagerly before Syed nodded his head slowly in agreement and followed the man up the stone steps to his flat.
"Do you want a coffee or something?" the man asked as he closed the door behind them, throwing his coat onto the large white sofa that adorned the living area.
Syed didn't answer, but nervously shifted from one foot to another, impatiently hopeful that the other man would make the first move.
The man smiled wryly. "I'll take that as a no then"
Syed nodded slightly, his eyes darting between the sofa and the double bed, just visible from where he was standing.
The man eyed Syed lovingly and moved towards him. It was almost in slow-motion but Syed soon felt the man's lips on his own. It started slowly but soon they were kissing furiously, Syed desperate to finally have a release for his frustrations, to finally be with this man once more. Fingers frantically grabbled at clothes as the man manoeuvred Syed onto the sofa.
XX
"Leaving already?" the man asked, eying a half-dressed Syed from his position on top of the bed.
"I have to go", Syed stated matter-of-factly.
"Why?" The man was naked and propped his head up with his arm.
"You know why! I have a fiancée. I have a family!" Syed retorted irritably, shoving his arm roughly into his shirt and fumbling with the buttons.
"What about us?" the man questioned. He looked away, half-heartedly attempting to hide his hurt by fixating on a stray carpet thread on the floor next to the bed.
"You know how I feel", Syed replied quietly, sitting down on the bed but purposefully avoiding looking at the naked man. He played with his fingers uneasily and, for the first time, looked around at the bedroom he had spent the last two hours in. One solitary painting hung on the wall by the wardrobe. It was of two male figures, seemingly naked, and holding hands. Syed's stomach tightened. He thought of the man on the bed. He thought of his future wife. He thought of his family – his mother, his father and his younger siblings. All of them were innocent - except him. He felt sick every time he betrayed them. He felt sick every time he abandoned his lover.
"I have to go", Syed stressed, picking up his keys and phone and moving towards the bedroom door.
"Then go"
"Don't be angry with me", Syed pleaded, desperate to make eye contact.
"You better go. I'm sure your fiancée will have cooked you something worthy of Nigella Lawson", the man replied, a half-smile curved on his lips. An attempt to make Syed feel better, inside, the man was dying.
Syed laughed ironically. Memories of her literal interpretation of a death by chocolate dessert were not something he ever wanted to experience again. Unbeknown to him, she had decided that chilli powder was an essential ingredient in the recipe she had haphazardly ripped out of a magazine she had found at the dentist and had added not one but two tablespoons to the mix. Over an hour later and Syed had still been feeling the effects and was forced to retire to bed early.
"She can barely boil an egg", Syed replied, his smile fading as their eyes connected for the first time since he had left the sanctuary of the bed. He had finally noticed the sadness that now existed between the two of them. Without either of them realising, instead of joy and happiness, their clandestine meetings were now filled with sorrow and anguish.
"I'll make a note to boil you an egg next time you're here", the man laughed dryly.
"Don't"
"Don't what?"
Syed opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out. His mouth was dry and he vaguely looked around for a glass of water, a glass of orange juice, anything to rid him of this wretched feeling.
"Don't what Syed?" the man repeated. He rolled off the bed, grabbed his dressing grown and pulled it tight around him protectively.
"Don't do this. Make out like this is normal", Syed pleaded. As the man moved towards him opened mouthed in protest, Syed's instincts told him to flee this precarious situation.
"I love you. How it that not normal?"
"Because I'm getting married in two months" Syed cried, flinging his keys and phone onto the carpeted floor. They landed next to the heap of unwanted clothes shed almost three hours ago.
"You don't have to", the man replied quietly. He bent down to pick up his discarded t-shirt to avoid the expression on Syed's face.
"You know I have to!" Syed exclaimed wearily. He was already resigned to his fate. In two months he would be a husband and she would be his wife.
"Please Syed. I love you and you love me and all the self-deception in the world will never change that". The man's voice was low and calm. The man loved Syed and he knew Syed loved him.
"No. Now I have to go", Syed snapped, picking up his keys and moving towards the bedroom door.
"Bye"
"Bye Syed", the man uttered as he watched Syed's retreating back.
XX
The ink on the piece of paper looked smudged now. It was almost unintelligible. He hadn't noticed how much he had been crying until he realised he could now barely read the phone number. Grief washed over him, just like it had done two years ago. He'd lost him. And this time it was for good.