Forbidden by Faith

by Negeen Papehn

  In the weeks that followed Minnesota, a pleasant aura surrounded my relationship with Ben. The emotions readily passed between us and a sense of comfort cocooned us. We moved in sync, complementing each other as opposed to the push-and-pull visible before.

  There was already talk between us of my heading to Minnesota for another visit with Ben’s family during the winter break. I hadn’t discussed it with my parents yet, but I’d cross that bridge when it became necessary.

  Exams turned into a whirlwind of late nights, sleep deprivation, coffee, and protein bars as we crammed as much information into our brains as humanly possible. Our group linked arms in strength, encouraging and pushing each other to keep moving forward day after day. The two weeks seemed endless, one day blurring into the next. By the time we reached our last exam, no one could remember when they’d had a full night’s sleep or a warm meal. When it was finally over, Ben and I dragged ourselves to his apartment. We collapsed onto his bed and were asleep before our heads touched the pillows.

  When I awoke, the sun had already set, draping the room in darkness. I could tell Ben was still asleep by the heaviness of his breathing. I turned over and grabbed my phone. It was seven in the evening. I was hungry, but my body still craved sleep, so I cuddled up against his side again and closed my eyes. I fell back into a peaceful slumber.

  The next time I woke up, it was six in the morning and Ben was gone. I lay there for a few minutes admiring the streaks of light shining through the window shades, throwing wing-like patterns onto the comforter. I felt like I was surrounded by a sea of butterflies.

  I finally rolled out of bed and made my way to the kitchen where I could hear the subtle clatter of pots and pans. It was still very early in the morning and the world had yet to fully awake. The apartment was lit with a blue glow from the sun’s ascent into the sky. I stood in the hallway, admiring Ben’s silhouette in the kitchen. He appeared to be making breakfast.

  I cleared my throat to signal my arrival and he turned around. He stood there shirtless, with only his sweats on. They hung low on his hips and I could see the indentation of the muscles there. I walked up to him, wearing only his T-shirt, and wrapped my arms around his waist. I placed my head on his chest and listened to the rhythmic thumping of his heart against my ear.

  “Good morning,” I said, smiling against him.

  “Good morning, doll. Sleep well?” he asked.

  “I love when you call me that.”

  “I know.” He smiled. “You hungry?”

  “I’m starving,” I replied, suddenly aware of the grumbling in my stomach.

  “Okay, sit. I’m making us breakfast. There’s fresh coffee in the pot,” he said, pointing toward the counter with his wooden spoon.

  I poured myself a cup, inhaling the warm aroma of coffee beans, and hopped up onto the counter, not wanting to make the short distance to the table. From this vantage point I could enjoy my coffee and the fantastic view. Ben finished making us his feast and we shuffled over to the table to eat.

  “What kind of wedding would you want?” he asked suddenly, as he took a bite of his eggs. His nonchalant demeanor made me uneasy, the question catching me off guard.

  “What do you mean?” I stuttered, syrup dripping off the bite of pancake I held midway to my mouth.

  “I mean would you want a traditional Muslim wedding, or, like, a nondenominational one?” he said.

  It was a valid question but I hadn’t thought that far into our future, which I realized was odd since I was now on relationship number two with a non-Muslim man. Equally strange was the fact that I’d never discussed this with Maziar either, and marriage had felt definite with him.

  “I think I’d want the traditional,” I said after a few moments. “I mean, I’m not religious, but it feels more cultural to me. Plus, my mom’s been planning my wedding since I was born. I don’t want to take that away from her.”

  “I think my mom would want a church wedding too,” he added, thoughtfully.

  “Nobody said we couldn’t have both.”

  “Would your parents be cool with that, though?”

  I thought about what he was asking, and the truth was, I wasn’t sure what they’d be okay with. But either way, in the end the decision was mine. They’d just have to deal with it.

  “I guess they’d have to be,” I said.

  “Okay,” he replied. Then, he leaned over the table and kissed me.

  A few hours later, Sandra called to tell us we were going to the Sky Bar on Sunset Boulevard.

  The venue was outside, located around the pool of the Mondrian hotel. The far wall surrounding the area was made up of repeated wall-sized windows, each providing a private nook with a spectacular view of the city lights. We set ourselves up in an unoccupied section.

  Ben bought our first round of drinks, handing each of us a vodka tonic. I took a sip and leaned back on the pillows, indulging at the end of another long term. The boys pulled up chairs, and we planted ourselves for the next few hours. We were all warm and fuzzy, wrapped up in conversation, when the world tilted on its axis once again.

  I was sipping on my third vodka tonic, laughing at Thomas’ story, when I randomly glanced up at the entrance. Walking in at that very moment was Neda. I froze, drink halfway to my lips, staring. I couldn’t breathe for fear of who would be following in behind her.

  The color must have drained from my face because Ben reached out and asked, “Are you okay? Are you feeling sick?”

  I couldn’t speak as I continued to watch in horror. Azi and Emanuel appeared on her tail. And then, within the span of a heartbeat, there was him.

  Maziar.

  He wasn’t looking in our direction but Neda was scanning the crowd. She saw us and a broad smile stretched across her face. She had the blurry look of drunkenness dancing in her eyes, and I realized she had lost all common sense as she headed straight for us. I immediately looked at Ben, hoping he could see the apology in my eyes before our world exploded

  Neda made it to us within seconds. Azi followed quickly behind her, the boys taking up the rear. Neda squealed as she launched herself into my arms. I stood there shocked, paralyzed from the rush of fear coursing through my veins. Azi was staring at me with worried eyes. She had played out the scenario in her mind as well, and was now ready to attempt damage control.

  Maziar stood with his hands in his pockets, head tilted slightly to the left, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. He was staring at me with the intensity that only Maziar possessed, completely oblivious to everyone watching us. I felt naked and exposed.

  My heart had stopped beating and I’d stopped breathing. Words that had been left unsaid for months threatened to find their way to my lips. The memories of goodbye came rushing back to me and I had to look away, no longer being able to engage in our silent conversation.

  Ben coolly stared at Maziar, but I could see his hatred in the tightening of his muscles and the fists by his sides. He had witnessed our wordless exchange and I wondered if some of that hatred wasn’t for me as well. I wanted to reach out for him, but Neda was still wrapped around me like an octopus. Ben looked toward me, almost disgusted, then grabbed his drink and left. Thomas followed, his expression mimicking the worry I felt in my bones.

  Once Neda detached herself, Azi stepped up and hugged me.

  “It’s been too long, my friend,” she said.

  “I know,” I replied.

  “I’ve missed you.”

  “Me too.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered into my ear, too quiet for anyone else to hear.

  She pulled back and our eyes locked in understanding. Emanuel said hello and gave me a quick hug, his discomfort oozing off his body. He, like the rest of us, wasn’t sure how to proceed.

  Suddenly, as if the world had split in two, Maziar stood before me. Our surroundings quieted, fading into silence. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. I could see nothing else but him. I knew I should turn away, break the connect
ion, and put distance between us, but I couldn’t. I was rooted to the ground, cemented in the moment. Maziar was my kryptonite and I wasn’t strong enough to withstand him.

  He took a few steps closer until we were inches apart. I sucked in my breath, becoming intoxicated on his proximity.

  At some point Sandra had moved in next to me. She squeezed my arm in a feeble effort to snap me back to my senses. It didn’t work. I couldn’t even breathe, let alone think about the consequences that were inevitable to follow. All I could do was focus on not collapsing beneath the avalanche of emotions burying me. Maziar hadn’t broken his eye contact, hadn’t taken a second to acknowledge the people around us. He was intently set on me, like an animal circling his prey.

  “Hi,” he said calmly.

  I hadn’t heard his voice for almost a year; I had forgotten the way it pulled at my heart like the loveliest of melodies. His simple hello felt like a knife cutting through my chest, leaving me for dead yet again.

  “Hi,” I replied shakily.

  “It’s really good to see you, Sara.”

  I just looked at him, trying to comprehend what was happening. Everything about his demeanor and the way he spoke signaled that nothing had changed, even though it had. I felt confused as he took another step in, muddling my thoughts further. His lips were inches away from me now as he completely disregarded our audience.

  “I really miss you,” he said, quiet enough for only me to hear.

  I suddenly felt like I’d been kicked in the gut. He reached out and grabbed my hand, his fingers snapping me out of my trance. I yanked it away, offended at his presumption. I couldn’t do this; I couldn’t let him manipulate me again.

  He stood startled as I eyed him angrily. How dare he expect it to be that easy? As if I’d been waiting around for him to realize he’d made a mistake. Did he think all he needed to do was tell me he missed me and I’d be putty in his hands? I would not be that stupid girl again. I would not be taken back into the depths of hell that easily.

  “Don’t,” I snapped.

  I pulled free from Sandra and stepped around him. I needed to leave, to get out of his space. It was threatening to drown me.

  Neda was standing behind him and grabbed my arm. I loved her, but at that moment I didn’t have anything to say to her. She should have ignored me, should have taken them all to the opposite side of the club. She should have left me in the happy little life I’d built around myself. Instead, she’d wrapped a bomb around my waist and detonated it, bringing my reality down around me in a pile of waste and rubble. I pulled away from her as well.

  I was trying to find a path away from them all. Suddenly the crowd thinned and standing directly in front of me was Ben. My beautiful Ben. The angel who had rescued me and helped me find myself again. The lovely soul I had now crushed for the hundredth time.

  He’d seen the entire exchange, had seen Maziar mere inches away from my face, sensed my heart stop as the world faded around me. He’d seen my feelings for a man I had long ago promised I’d forgotten. This man who loved me stood there angry and broken.

  I reached out for him, the desperation of what was happening clawing me from the inside out. He turned and pulled away, making his way to the exit. I hurried behind him, terrified he was leaving me. He was at the door before I was close enough to grab his arm.

  “Don’t,” he said, anger blazing in his eyes.

  “Please,” I whispered, my last desperate plea.

  “I can’t do this anymore, Sara. I have to get out of here. Can you make your way back with Sandra?” he asked.

  I stood baffled that even now, when I was the cause of his imminent demise, he was still concerned about me. I just nodded. I could see how badly I’d disappointed him, but before I could try to explain, he turned and walked away.

  I watched him go, knowing that this was the beginning of the end.

  I walked back to where my friends sat, all stunned from what had just happened. I was relieved that Maziar was nowhere in sight. I was too deflated to deal with him. I grabbed my things.

  “Sandra, I need to go.”

  “Okay,” she replied, hurriedly grabbing her stuff.

  “Bye,” I said to everyone and no one in particular. My friends were too shaken to reply, and I was too devoid of the energy necessary to reassure them.

  Halfway to the exit, I heard the familiar melody sing my name again, stopping me in my tracks. I wanted to run, to head for the doors and never look back, but I couldn’t. There was a part of me that longed to be near him, to smell that familiar scent of his cologne, to feel the heat of his body wrap itself around me. I slowly turned.

  “Sara,” he said, unable to keep the pleading out of his voice.

  “What is it, Maziar?”

  “Please don’t leave. I need to talk to you,” he stammered.

  “Why? What do you need to say to me? And why tonight?” I asked.

  “I’m sorry. For so many things. I don’t know why it’s taken me this long. But please let me talk to you,” he said, his words weighing down the air around us, wrapping us in its darkness.

  I stood there feeling as if I’d left my body, now perched on the ceiling, watching the scene unfolding below. Here I was, standing in front of Maziar for the first time in what felt like an eternity. He was begging me to hear what he had to say. I’d dreamed of this moment so many times, had played this scene out in my head over and over again. It was finally here, and it was devastating. I didn’t feel the happiness I’d thought I would. Instead, I felt tired, so weary I could barely stand. And I felt sad, so very, very sad, that this was what we’d become.

  I realized it didn’t matter what he wanted to tell me. There was nothing left for us but a bunch of memories and wasted time. He had hurt me, breaking the most intricate parts of who I was. Now, I had broken Ben, an innocent bystander in this ridiculous struggle. I didn’t have any energy left to deal with the story of us. It had ended a year ago. It was time I put it into the ground, mourned, and moved on.

  “I can’t do this, Maziar,” I said. “I just can’t. I’m sorry.”

  I turned and Sandra grabbed my hand. She got us a taxi and opened the door so I could slide inside. She followed, closing it behind her. I gave myself the luxury of one more glance toward the man who had broken my heart so long ago.

  The man I was now leaving behind.

  I stepped in front of Ben’s door and stood there, frozen. I knew he wouldn’t want to see me, but the idea of waiting until morning to have the inevitable conversation was killing me. He would be flying to Minnesota and I couldn’t bear it if he left with everything unresolved. I had no idea what I was going to say to him, how I was going to make things right, but I needed to try. I was moving forward on pure survival, my primal instincts in full force. The tangled web I’d created around myself was strangling me in the silence of those I had lost tonight.

  I reached out and knocked on the door. It was close to one in the morning and I had no idea if he was even awake. He hadn’t responded to any of my texts. I waited for what felt like a lifetime before hearing the shuffle of feet down the hall. He opened the door and stood there staring at me with a blank expression that only showed how exhausted he was from dealing with this situation. Neither of us spoke. After a moment he stepped aside and let me in.

  Ben walked over to the living room and sat down on the couch. Sitting in front of him was a bottle of scotch and a glass, half the contents of the bottle already missing. He reached out for the cup, staring at me coolly as he took a sip. I sat across from him wracking my brain for something to say.

  “I’m sorry,” I finally offered.

  “I know,” he replied, his eyes filled with disappointment.

  Too overwhelmed to contain my emotions, I began to cry. For the first time since I had known Ben, he didn’t get up to console me. He just sat there watching me. He took another sip, averting his eyes to the floor in disinterest. I began to panic.

  “What happens now?”
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  “I don’t know, doll,” he said plainly, still watching me cry.

  “Do you want to break up? Are we over?” I asked, once I was able to speak again.

  He sat there working on his drink, thinking. It felt like an eternity before he spoke.

  “I don’t know what I want right now, to be honest. I saw how you looked at him tonight. Can you really tell me that you feel nothing for Maziar? That you truly belong to me?”

  I wanted to say I was over Maziar, to say I was all in, but I’d be lying. Besides, Ben already knew the answer. Instead, I said nothing.

  “I think I should take the next few weeks to think about what it is that I really want and what compromises I can actually live with. I think you should go home and do the same thing. We can’t stay like this, Sara. I can’t worry about running into Maziar all the time and what feelings you’ll have when we do. It’s too hard and I’m just too tired.”

  I wanted to kick and scream, tell him I wouldn’t lose him, tell him I loved him and only him, but I couldn’t. The reality was that I had no idea what I wanted anymore. I loved Ben, and I was overwhelmed with the fear of losing him. But at the same time, I knew I wasn’t over Maziar. And, truthfully, I wasn’t sure I ever would be. Ben didn’t deserve to be second best, he deserved to be someone’s one and only.

  “Okay,” I said, my response consumed by the bitter silence that followed.

  Eventually I got up. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do, but all I could think to do was leave. He got up with me and walked over to where I was standing.

  I tried to memorize the blue of his eyes, the lines that outlined his face, the way his hair was spiked every which way. I reached out and touched his cheek, feeling the tenderness within him. He put his hand on top of mine and I couldn’t stop the tears from silently falling. He reached out and wiped them away, still trying to save me. Then, he pulled me into him and held me close. I placed my head on his chest and let the rhythm of his heart quiet my storm. I breathed him in, holding on to his scent as a lifeline. I held him tighter, terrified of letting go.

  “I really do love you, Ben. I don’t know how we even got here,” I whispered into his chest.