This chapter begins where chapter 13 ended. Amira allert! It's from Syed's POV.

~s~c~

Amira. I wasn't expecting her to be here. Mum must have invited her for dinner.

'Hello princess' I greet her cheerfully, pecking her on the cheek.

'There you are babe! We were wondering where you were. I've been dying to show you this!'

For the next fifteen minutes I have to endure looking at god knows how many different flower arrangements, colour schemes and test menus. It would have been a lot longer too, but thankfully, dinner is ready. All through dinner Amira and Mum are talking, sometimes bickering, sometimes joyously agreeing about anything and everything to do with this wedding. My wedding. I have to remember that. Although at times, I wonder if they even remember it. Both Amira and Mum want to tell Dad, Tambo and I every little detail about the wedding. But they rarely require a response. I smile, nod in what are hopefully the right places, sharing sneaky incredulous looks with both Dad and Tambo. In the end I just tune them out, their voices nothing but a high-pitched, annoying sound somewhere in the background.

The moment I do, of course, my thoughts go back to him. I know he's waiting for me. That thought makes me feel so indescribably excited that I just want to make my excuses right now and rush back to him. As I have no excuses to give that will allow me to leave, I settle for remembering the time we shared this afternoon. I slip a hand in my pocket and capture the key he gave me in my hand. I stroke it, and remember the look in his eyes when he gave me this. I remember how he let me take control, let me take care of him. I remember how happy I felt, just to be near him, just to touch him… I remember it all.

After dinner, the torture goes on.

'Syed babe, please remind your mum I don't do yellow'

'Mum, you know Amira doesn't like yellow. Makes her feel like a duck, remember?' I indulge her.

Mum shrugs, obviously offended that I'm siding with Amira. I wish they would just leave me out of it. I hate their attempts to make me choose sides. What the hell do I care about the colour of napkins, tablecloth, roses, dresses, god knows what… But I keep my fake smile firmly in place and pretend to pay attention.

Around ten, Amira starts packing up her things, ready to go home.

'Will you walk me home babe?'

'Of course I will darling' I say, as is expected of me.

She keeps up the chatter, mostly complaints about Mum's interference, all the way to her front door.

'I've had a lovely time tonight Syed. I'm so happy with the way we can share important things like this' she says.

For a moment I don't know what to say. Is she for real? It suddenly becomes crystal clear to me that my fiancée, the woman I'm supposed to love and share the rest of my life with, the one person who should be closer to me than any other person in the world, doesn't really know me at all.

'I… well… that's nice princess. Goodnight'

As soon as I tell her goodnight, she tilts her head expectantly, closing her eyes. This is the part where I am supposed to kiss my fiancée goodnight. So I do.

I walk home in a daze. As it's close by, I find myself in front of our door in no time. I decide I'm not ready to go in. So I walk around for a bit, gathering my thoughts. I don't understand what has changed. I've made my decision, I've made my choice, and that choice is Amira. I always knew it was a compromise. I knew it wasn't what I really wanted. But I had accepted that. I picked her because she was pretty, the kind of girl that would make men envy me. And I liked her, felt quite fond of her actually. Giving her a chaste kiss, holding her hand, giving her a hug, none of that bothered me before. It's true it didn't affect me the way the touch of a girlfriend is supposed to affect a man. It felt alright, safe, fine before. Like touching a female relative. I thought that was enough for now, and that perhaps my feelings would grow.

Tonight I realized the opposite is true. I resented her for expecting me to kiss her. I really didn't want to do it, had to physically force myself. For the first time I have serious doubts, doubts if I'll be able to go through with this. If I can't even bring myself to give her a meaningless, chaste, nothing little kiss goodbye, than how am I ever going to be able to be any kind of husband to her? Our upbringing prevents us from being all too physical now, but what about after we're married? She'll expect a whole lot more than a simple kiss after we become husband and wife.

Suddenly, my head is filled with images of Amira, in my arms. Her lying in our bed, waiting for me. Her looking at me, desire in her eyes, starting to undress. Everything inside me screams in rejection. No! I don't want this! I can't… It takes all the strength that I have in me to push these thoughts away again, back in the little room they occupy in my brain. I mentally lock the door and vow to keep them there, hidden away for as long as I can manage. You'll have to look at it someday, the voice inside my head insists. I know that. I do. But not today. I don't want to deal with this right now. Not yet. Satisfied that I have successfully pushed all unwanted thoughts away, I make my way home. I feel slightly better. Who knows what the future will hold? All I know, is that I can't think about it right now.

There is only one image that I haven't been able to block. It's been with me from the moment I placed my lips on hers. The image of a pair of startling green eyes, looking at me, filled with hurt. And try and ignore it as I might, it won't go away.

~s~c~

The house is quiet. I hold my breath as I make my way silently down the stairs, avoiding the creaking third step. At the bottom of the stairs, I put on my shoes, unlock the door and pull it closed. The tiny little click it makes when closed, sounds as loud as if I slammed it shut. I freeze, listening for sounds of stirring at the other side. When I hear nothing, I relax, breathing in the cool night air. I keep my eyes cast down and make my way over to his place, key clamped and ready in my hand.

It feels strange, letting myself in like this. I take the stairs two at a time and then I'm through the door, inside his flat. I take a minute to let my eyes adjust to the darkness. That's odd really, I'm not very late. I expected him to still be up, waiting for me.

'Sy? Is that you?'

Something is wrong, I can feel it. The sound of his voice is coming form the bed. It sounds muffled, like he has his head underneath the blankets or something.

'Christian? What's wrong?' I ask, rushing to his side.

My eyes have adjusted enough to see him, laying there, his huge body curled up into a little ball, hidden underneath the duvet. Gently, I pull it back from his face. He responds by curling up even more, cradling a pillow in his arms.

'Christian… please… Tell me what's wrong. You're scaring me now' I whisper, laying my hand on his arm.

Finally, he looks up at me. The desperation in his eyes takes me by surprise, making me worry even more. He swallows a couple of times. Then he says: 'I don't know Sy… I don't know!'

My heart is aching for him. He's hurting and I can't stand to see him like this. Without thinking about it, I undress myself and slip into his bed. I press myself against the back of his body, knees behind his, chest against his back and then I just envelop him in my arms, holding him tight. His body feels rigid in my arms, like he is frozen. When I start pressing kisses on his back, I can feel shudders violently rock his frame. Desperately, I try and hold him tighter, try and sooth his body with mine.

'Sy…'

His voice sounds broken.

'I'm here' I say. It's all I can say.

Then he turns around in my arms. Abandoning his pillow, he wraps his arms around me instead. We hold each other tight. I gently stroke his back, shushing what I hope are comforting words into his ear.

'It's ok… I'm here…' I repeat over and over again.

The shudders that are going through him are becoming more violent. Only when I feel the wetness on my shoulder, do I realize what is causing those shudders. They are repressed sobs. That's when I force him to lift up his head from my shoulder and look at me. Cradling his face, I wipe away a single tear with my thumb.

'It's ok', I say again, 'I'm here for you. You can let go now'. I smile at him encouragingly, kiss him softly and then lower his head back on my shoulder.

I can feel him unravel in my arms. With an audible sob, he finally releases the tears he's been trying to repress, weeping in my arms. I kiss the top of his head and hold on tight.

~s~c~

Reviews, as always, much appreciated :-)