My dear reviewers and people favouriting, putting on alert or just reading: thank you as always. It means the world to me. /xxx

Sorry it's been a while since I updated. This was a difficult chapter to write, for many reasons, so I am feeling nervous about getting it out into the big bad world, but LoveSy ( ;) ), hun, you helped immensely as always. *mmmwwwaaahhh*

Oh, and… ahemm… Amira alert :O

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And that's just how it is
And how it's always been

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I am in paradise, I can see that. These past almost three weeks should have been like heaven, I know that.

I hear her steps coming up behind me.

"It's so lovely here, isn't it, babe? This is absolutely all anyone could want, isn't it and this…" Her voice trails off and I see her hand make a vague gesture to the general view in front of us. "I could look at this forever… So gorgeous!"

"Of course it is, Princess" I answer automatically, not really with my heart in it, immediately feeling that little pang of guilt flying through me again. Her hand comes to rest lightly on my shoulder, completely naturally, completely as a wife would do… but as it lingers there a few moments longer I feel my muscles tense. I can't do anything about it and I curse myself for being so... weak when I know so well how it has to be. She feels it too, and as she takes her hand away again I sigh. I can't let myself keep doing that, but sometimes I can't seem to help it and those feelings of being awkward and wrong will start to bubble inside me again. I take a deep breath and shake my head a little to get rid of them. Once again.

I see, out of the corner of my eye, how she turns her head away from me and I can imagine the look in her eyes so clearly. I've seen it before. The disappointment, the insecurity… Guilt is threatening to suffocate me so I go for what I always go for. What I can do. The only safe thing I have, the only thing I know I can do.

"Not quite as beautiful as you, though…" I say sheepishly. At least that is true, she is beautiful. I look up at her and give her a little smile. Smiling, always smiling, as the doting husband I must be. The husband I am. It is real, I must remember that. I squeeze her hand a little as I try to make it up to her. Again. Soon I see a small return smile form on her face. For once the silence between her and me is rather comfortable, not filled with unasked questions, not filled with things no one wants to address. I look at her looking out over the ocean, taking in the spectacular view. Maybe now is the time to… But as I try to decide if it is, I'm interrupted.

"I have to go to that spa treat hour now… It'll be brilliant, I'm sure…" she says and then hesitates a little. "Sure you don't wanna join me… husband?" She's only half joking, something in her voice is pleading with me, and I feel my heart make a big thump.

"No, that was just for you…" I hate that I do this but I need to breathe for a while. I need to be alone, just for a few minutes. "You deserve to be spoilt with all the stress about the wedding before… and me being… sick and all, for the honeymoon… You need to treat yourself today… and I'll see you later."

She walks inside again, leaving me to my thoughts, and I feel like I've just escaped. Once again the guilt is there, the heavy feeling of it in my gut. Then I hear her close the door and leave. I take a couple of breaths and feel myself relax, for the first time in days it seems.

Because I know somewhere deep inside, in those parts of me where I keep what I can't think about, I can never fully relax. I just didn't know how it would feel, how tired it would make me. I know what I have to do, who I have to be, and I will, I absolutely will. There is no other choice and it's so automatic I hardly notice it anymore. But I'm so tired.

The excuses to avoid… everything… that I come up with are so blatantly obvious to me. I've used the long journey, tiredness after everything to do with the mehndi and the wedding… Only sometimes does it really sink in what I'm doing. I avoid looking too closely at that, in fact I do everything in my power not to think about that. I focus on what I need to instead. On what is going on here and now.

It's not like it is horrible all the time, it's not. It's… nice, I suppose. It's… appropriate. There's laughing together sometimes, chatting… like friends. Except usually you're not trying to hide almost everything going on inside you to the person supposed to be your closest friend. Usually you don't sometimes feel like you're looking at a complete stranger that knows nothing about you. Usually you don't have to lock everything inside you away and throw away the key. It's… quiet. And the quiet is dangerous, so I do what I have to, what I must to get from one moment to the next.

I look around and think once again that this is paradise. An absolute paradise, no question about it. The weather is fantastic, everything around me is achingly wonderful as I sit on the balcony, overlooking the ocean, gazing at the horizon. Everything is exactly as anyone would have imagined the ideal honey moon. And still, sometimes I just feel like I need to get out, I feel a panic that I don't always know what to do with.

But apart from the sheer beauty of this place, there are also lots of things to do, endless activities to fill the day with. And I have made sure all of them have been tried. I feel like such a cheater as I make sure Amira comes with me on one thing after another, or goes away to do things on her own, the outside distractions never ending, keeping busy, always keeping busy. I'll find myself listening along as she chatters away about someone she met, something she saw, something in a shop… a necklace… a skirt… a bracelet. And somewhere in all of that I can tell she's just as scared of the heavy silences as I am.

So now I have some time to myself, to get myself together, but the guilt I feel as I sense my own uneasiness is overwhelming. What am I doing? Doing to her? How am I ever going to make this work? Need not to think about that, I… just don't know. These thoughts are always in my head, never stop going around there. I have to keep them quiet. I will make it work, it's the only choice I have, isn't it? It is the way it is. How it's always been. I recognise this all too well. I have never had any choice, so I do it, like I've always done it.

I act like I am supposed to act, keep trying to be who I need to be. Always have and I do so now too. I try to tell the jokes, make her laugh, but sometimes I can't even remember if I told that particular joke before. It's like I step outside myself and I see how I do the right things, say what I'm supposed to say. Almost all of the time. Then again there are those other times. Times when the bubbles rise from that part of me that can't exist. Times when I remember the dreams. Times when I feel like I feel when he… Times when I remember. Times when I can feel myself coming dangerously close to simply exploding. When I just have to bend double with pure and utter pain and run into the bathroom and be sick.

The way I keep together is that I never allow myself to think too much. If I keep myself distracted, not thinking about what will happen later it will be alright. So I distract myself enough. Either that or I just disappear, not able to help myself. Any time of the day I can find myself being somewhere, doing something or even talking to Amira and I have no idea where I am, what I was going to do or what she's just said to me and what I'm supposed to answer. Every time it happens I just panic a little more.

I need time, more time, always more time. Time to sort things out, time to make this work. But very soon, I won't have it anymore, and I have no idea what to do then, what will happen then. I don't like thinking about that at all, I can only deal with short moments at a time. I lock everything like that into that little room inside my brain where I keep all the things I simply can't think about. And I close my eyes very deliberately to the fact that at some point I won't be able to keep that door closed anymore. I hear the ticking of the bomb even louder.

There have been hints about it already, there have been moments almost every day. I feel like such a traitor at those moments… those silent moments at night when no one can deny that something is not really as it should be. Those moments when I can't look into her eyes, when I can't let her look into mine, since my thoughts are anywhere but where they ought to be. And then either I or her shrink away from it, I give her a chaste little peck on her cheek and then turn around in bed or she strokes her fingers over my forehead, pushing a little bit of hair to the side and then goes quietly into the bathroom. I guess it's all only stalling the inevitable, the questions will have to be asked at some point, but no one is brave enough. And I know I just have to try harder, make more of an effort, take control of myself and not be weak. After all she is my wife, her well being is my duty. It's what I have to do, it's lives at stake here. I will make it work.

I feel like such a failure when I can give her no attention besides that any and all acquaintances could give her. I feel like such a cheater every time I see her, every time I pretend that this is normal, that this is how it's supposed to be. I can sense her confusion and I have seen her spend more and more time in the bathroom getting ready, a new and prettier outfit, a different way to put her hair up. And a more distant, questioning look in her eyes every day.

But as I sit here there is nothing stopping my mind from going to the one place it always goes to when I'm not checking it constantly. I know it's a disaster just waiting to happen.

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It seems so simple when I'm with him.

He talks and I feel the connection so clearly, so unmistakably. I understand, I get it, I laugh at the right places, I find the right words to answer.

He looks at me and I am precious. It's like I am the most beautiful, wonderful thing he has ever laid eyes on. It takes my breath away. He looks at me and I can actually feel the caress of his eyes on me, warm, caring like no one has ever cared before.

He listens and I feel like I count. He leans forward when I talk, as if the stupid words I say are invaluable to him. Never have I felt like I matter to anyone as I matter to him. I can't get enough of it.

He touches me and I am alive. One slow teasing stroke from his finger along my cheek, down my neckline, my chest and further down, the thrilling touch followed first by his lips and then the tip of his tongue, and I can feel how I start to glow, every fibre of my body set alight. One touch and I am his to do with what he wants. Excitement rises with the realisation I have when I look at him, when I let feathery fingertips and lips touch every last part of him… he is mine too.

My heart races as I come to life under his touch, as I come to life touching him. Every part of me tingles and sizzles as I know… I know what I want, what I need…

And then it's all shattered. Then reality comes and kicks me right in the gut and I know that it's only a dream, that it is a fantasy. That it can never come true. As it always has been, as I always have known. Dreams do not come true. Everything inside me aches as I realise that.

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"Babe… are you alright? You don't look too well…do you still feel sick…?"

For a few moments I have no idea where I am or whose voice that is talking to me. My heart is racing just as much as in my day dream, every single part of my body tingling. Honestly I had no idea I had been here for so long… so lost, lost in that place I can't go. It is not the first time her voice interrupts my feverish thoughts and I know I twitch noticeably as I try to compose myself to give her some kind of answer.

I tell her I'm feeling better, of course. The excuse of feeling ill is getting old, even though I know she heard me in the bathroom yesterday morning, waking up from yet another nightmare. At least that helped in the way that I'm not a complete and utter liar. All of the time.

"So, what do you want to do tonight?" I ask her, trying to avoid any further questions without sounding as desperate as I actually am. " That restaurant by the…"

"Sure you're up to it, Syed?" she interrupts me, sounding a bit worried, looking questioningly at my face. "You're not really alright are you? You've just been sitting here for an hour now… And you're a bit pale… Maybe just staying in the suite tonight… have some…"

"No!" I say, way too fast, and I can see that hurt look again. "No… I'm alright… I don't want you to miss out on anything while you're here!"

"Yeah, I know… but I'd like to just be here with you, a whole night, just…"

"Got to make the most of it, though, right? Only a few days left and who knows if these kind of trips can happen any time soon?" I know it's a bit of a cheap shot but I'm hoping it'll work. I'm getting horribly used to making things like this up to her. "And you know, I'd love to see you in that really pretty blue and silver thing you found the other day… that was so beautiful, you'll be like a proper Princess." She is a little appeased with that and I can see how the thought of dressing up so beautifully, being the prettiest in any group of people she might be in tonight slowly puts a little smile on her face. I can give her that. At least that I can do for her. My stomach tightens in a knot as I think about the fact that it won't be enough. Very soon it won't be enough.

The automatic part of me takes over and I hear my voice say the things I need to say, see myself do what I have to do. Putting on another show. Every night is another show I have to get through, that she has to get through. And she doesn't even know it. I dress up and I leave with her at my arm. I see the reflection in the mirror of the elevator and I can see how good it looks, the perfect newlywed couple. And I smile. Smile at her, smile at the world, at everyone and anyone that might look. I know I can do this, I know I can be this. As long as you don't look too closely at the eyes. The eyes always tell.

But there simply is no other way. I know I must do what is right. I must do what I've promised to do, there is no alternative. It will be as it is supposed to be, it will be like it has always been before. There is no other way, this is how it is. I couldn't do anything else to her, to my mother and father, to Tam and Shabnam… and the new baby coming. I could never put them through that kind of shame, I could not. Son, brother, Muslim... That's just how it is. This is not about me and what I may want. I will make it work. I will. I have to.

And then I feel him... touching me… Christian…

This is hell. I am in hell.

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As always: thank you so much for reading. Hope you don't hate me too much... If you'd like to let me know what you thought about it, I'd be ever so grateful!