Forbidden by Faith

by Negeen Papehn

  “We’re very hopeful. Unfortunately, we don’t know anything for sure. We just need to be patient and wait,” he said kindly.

  Bita slid back down in her seat and started to sob. Deep moans of pain escaped her lips as her aunt consoled her. His uncle battled the tears filling his eyes as he paced back and forth with nervous energy. His parents stood there staring at the doctor, frozen in the nightmare they’d suddenly found themselves in. My chest burned and I felt like I was suffocating.

  I ran to the bathroom, starting to uncontrollably gasp for air. I couldn’t see out of my eyes anymore, blackness invading my vision. I was going to pass out and I welcomed it; anything to get me out of this hell I was in, if even for a moment. Neda came in behind me. She placed herself right in front of me, yelling at me to breathe. I fought the darkness and obeyed. Then, I crumbled to the floor.

  I prayed while I lay on the cold bathroom tiles, begging God to let Maziar wake up. I made negotiations, promised everything I could think of in exchange for him being okay. Then, I cried because we had wasted so much time apart. Now it might be too late. He might not wake up, or worse, he could wake up and not be the same Maziar I knew. Either way, I would have lost him forever, and that alone was the saddest thing I could think to bear. I couldn’t live without him.

  If he died here in this hospital, I knew part of me would die with him.

  It had been two hours since I’d arrived at the hospital. I sat in the bathroom, exhausted, the burden of my emotions causing a horrid pounding in my head. I leaned against the wall, the coolness of the tiles soothing. I heard the familiar ring of my phone. I hadn’t thought it was possible to feel any more anxiety, but a wave crashed over me, pinning me in place.

  Ben was downstairs waiting for me. In the chaos that had ensued from the moment I’d arrived, I’d forgotten he’d come with me. The reality of my situation hit me hard as I pulled out my phone, dreading the next obstacle I was about to face.

  12:00 You okay? It’s getting late. I’m worried.

  I stared at the screen, feeling like I was going to throw up. I wished I could melt away into the floor, to hide from my tangled life. But I knew avoiding Ben would only make an already horrific situation worse.

  12:05 I’ll be right down.

  “I need to go downstairs to talk to Ben,” I said as Neda helped me off the floor.

  “Okay.” Her eyes were full of worry. “Are you leaving?”

  “No, but I need to talk to Ben.” We looked at each other, both knowing that my struggles had just begun.

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  “No,” I said, “It’s better I go alone.”

  The ride down in the elevator felt like it lasted another lifetime. When I walked out into the lobby, both Leyla and Ben stood up. I smiled wearily as I approached them.

  “Hey, doll,” Ben said.

  What remained of my beaten and battered heart was crushed under the weight of his hopeful gaze.

  “Hi,” I replied.

  He came up and wrapped his arms around me. I wanted to simultaneously melt into him and push him away. The contradiction of my feelings was jarring. Leyla knew what I was about to do, so she excused herself to the bathroom, giving us privacy. Her arm brushed against my hand as she walked by, giving me strength.

  “It’s late. I think we should go home,” he said.

  I just looked at him, wondering what it was I was doing. I knew I was drawing a line, one we could never return from. No matter how hard I tried to convince myself I should leave with Ben, that it was the right thing to do, my body wouldn’t obey. I was treading in dangerous waters, but I couldn’t persuade myself to stop.

  “I’m not going.” His eyes widened with surprise. I continued trying to hang on to my nerve before it was drained out of me by his reaction. “He’s still in surgery. It’s not looking so good. I just need to stay and make sure he’s okay,” I reasoned.

  “Can’t Neda call you with an update once he’s out?”

  “I’d rather stay,” I said, pushing forward.

  “Sara, it’s really late. We have a lot of packing to still do. We’re leaving in a few days.”

  He couldn’t keep the pleading out of his voice. I knew it killed him to look so vulnerable when I was choosing Maziar over him, once again.

  “I know. I’ll get it done. Don’t worry. I just need to stay for a few more hours,” I responded, maintaining the façade that nothing had changed between us.

  “Then, I’ll stay with you,” he demanded.

  I’d been afraid he would say that. I needed him to leave. I couldn’t worry about him and Maziar at the same time.

  “There’s no reason for you to stay. You’d be down here and I’d be upstairs. Go home. Get some sleep. No use in both of us being exhausted.”

  Leyla walked back toward us. Before Ben had a chance to say anything else, I turned to her.

  “Can you take Ben back to his car? I’m going to stay until Maziar is out of surgery.”

  She could see he wasn’t happy, but her loyalties were with me. “Sure. Then, I’ll head back to get you.”

  “That’d be great.” I turned toward Ben. “I’ll see you later.” I leaned in and quickly kissed him, then turned and walked down the hall. I knew he was staring at me but I didn’t turn around.

  I needed to get back to Maziar.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Maziar spent the next few hours in recovery. We all waited impatiently, the walls of the waiting room closing in on us as the minutes on the clock continued to tick by. Naghmeh sat in the corner by herself, periodically bursting into tears. The sound of her wailing had gone from heartbreaking to nerve-wracking as the patience continued to grow thin.

  Finally, the nurse came in to tell us that he’d been moved to a private room and that we could see him. They only allowed two people to visit at a time, so naturally his parents went first. I paced back and forth with worry. I needed desperately to go in, but I had no idea if I’d be allowed to, with his mother and sister barring my way.

  Parviz walked back into the waiting room. He appeared to have aged in the hour he’d spent by his son’s hospital bed. His shoulders hunched forward, the wariness in his gait even more apparent. The fluorescent lights overhead emphasized the gray in his hair, making it appear more dramatic, adding years to his appearance. His face looked gaunt and tired, the wrinkles making irregular patterns on his skin. His eyes were red and swollen, making it obvious that the sight of his son had broken his heart. He told us that his wife refused to leave Maziar’s side, so we had to go in one by one. Maziar’s aunt, Lily, went in next.

  The air rushed out of me and I stood paralyzed with despair. His mother wasn’t going to leave the room, which meant I wouldn’t be allowed in. I was devastated and angry, with no idea what to do next. Neda stood up and came to my side. She grabbed my hand, breaking me out of my thoughts. I turned and looked at her, terrified at the prospect of not seeing Maziar.

  “Don’t worry. You’ll be able to see him,” she said, still staring at her uncle’s broken figure as she spoke. “I promise.”

  I don’t know how I expected her to rectify the situation, but in that moment, I wanted to believe her.

  The next few hours were a revolving door of taking turns to sit with Maziar. Each person would go in, stay about an hour, then come out to give the next person a turn, while all the while his mother remaining vigilant by his side. I waited patiently, but as each new person went inside, the more consumed I became with worry over how Naghmeh would react. I continued to pace back and forth, trying to dissipate some of the nervous energy that bound my body tightly.

  Neda was the last to go in from the family. She only spent about twenty minutes sitting with him. I had the distinct feeling she cut her visit short because she knew I was dying to get in there. When she came back into the waiting room, she looked at her uncle. A silent understanding passed between them as he stood up and walked toward me.

  “Sara, let me sh
ow you where Maziar’s room is,” he said.

  I was unable to form any words to convey my gratitude. He just gave me a weary smile, letting me know he knew how much it meant to me. I could visibly see Neda relax once he was leading me out of the room, his hand on the back of my arm, guiding me through the door.

  We had to take an elevator down to the fifth floor. We stepped out, and he guided me toward the left. He stopped in front of room 515. I suddenly froze, the fear of what I would find behind it paralyzing me. He must have understood what I was thinking because he stepped in front of me and grabbed the door handle, looking me in the eye.

  “Be brave. He needs you right now,” he said, as he pushed it open. I obediently followed.

  Maziar lay on a large hospital bed with wires encircling him, attached to machines that beeped and hummed. They had intubated him. The sound of the inhalation and exhalation of the machine pumping air into his chest had a soothing, rhythmic pattern to it. I could no longer see his lips. They were taped around the tube that made its way into his lungs. He had a white bandage wrapped around his head, covering the skin where they shaved his hair. There was a cast on his right hand reaching past his wrist, and another covering almost his entire left leg, which was propped up on a stack of pillows.

  The white sheets, the bandages, and the walls seemed to consume him in a sea of clouds. The lack of color accentuated his beaten and battered body, making his bruises the most prominent feature. He reminded me of a broken angel.

  I didn’t notice his mother staring at her son’s ruined body, or his father standing beside me telling me it was okay. I didn’t notice the light above flickering ever so slightly or the nurse who came in to record the numbers on the machine. All I saw was the love of my life lying lifeless on the bed before me, unable to even do something as simple as breathe on his own. I felt a dam inside me break and a sea of emotion engulf me. My heart had no remaining surfaces left to shatter, so it decided to die altogether.

  I blindly walked to Maziar’s side. I didn’t glance at Naghmeh, who hadn’t even noticed my presence. I fell into the empty chair beside his bed and reached out to grab the fingers peeking out from his cast. I intertwined them with my own, instantly feeling the familiar electricity flowing between us. I placed my other hand on his chest, making sure that his heart was still beating beneath the sea of tubes surrounding him. I felt its rhythm against my palm, relieved.

  “Naghmeh,” Parviz said, “you should take a break, azizam. You’ve been sitting here with Maziar for hours. Why don’t we go for a walk, get a cup of chaye? Sara is with him. He’ll be okay.”

  I looked at Maziar’s mother, waiting for her protest. Her husband’s voice jarred her and she suddenly looked up, as if she’d just noticed there were people in the room. She still had the confused, flustered expression she wore in the waiting room. She looked straight at me, but her eyes seemed glassy and uncomprehending. I wasn’t sure if she actually saw me.

  The intensity of her grief had put her in an alternate world, one that only existed around the wires attached to her son. She seemed incapable of seeing anything further than that, including the girl she fought so desperately to remove from his life years before. She stood up as her husband gently coerced her out of the chair and allowed him to lead her out of the room. She never spoke a word.

  I turned my attention back to Maziar. I looked at his battered face and could still see the beauty that lay beneath the purples and reds invading his skin. I put my hand against his face, and through my tears, I started to speak. I didn’t know if he could hear me but I was sure he could feel me there. I needed to fill the silence. I told him about everything that had led me to this moment, how scared I’d been when Neda had called me, that it was because of his father that I was even there, and that I thought Parviz had officially become our ally.

  Then, I begged him to fight.

  I don’t know how long I held his hand and whispered into his ear, but at some point I felt a presence behind me. I turned around and saw his mother standing in the doorway watching us. She looked at me for a minute, then walked over to the opposite side of Maziar’s bed and sat in her chair, placing his free hand in hers. We both held onto him, peacefully coexisting. We stayed that way, neither looking at the other, as we silently prayed for his recovery.

  We sat together in the cold quiet of the hospital room for another hour. Shortly after, Maziar’s aunt came in and asked if she could get a turn.

  “Of course, Lily Khanoom,” I said, leaning in and kissing Maziar’s cheek. “I’ll be back soon,” I whispered into his ear.

  I walked to the waiting room and saw that within the past few hours more members of Maziar’s family had arrived. Pasha and Emanuel were also there, sitting next to Neda, who was looking at me with concern as I walked through the door. I paid them no attention as I made my way toward Parviz. He was standing at the other end of the room talking to his brother and two cousins. They all looked at me as I approached, which prompted him to turn around and face me.

  I walked right up to him, tears streaming down my face, and threw my arms around him. He was startled at my sudden show of emotion, standing motionless for a few seconds. Then, he hugged me back.

  “Thank you, Parviz Khan,” I said.

  “You’re welcome,” he replied, providing a small beacon of light in the nightmare.

  Everyone had gone silent, unsure how to interpret what they were seeing. Bita glared at me‒surprisingly, the only anger that could be felt within the room. I didn’t care what any of them thought; I was just grateful that Maziar’s father was able to finally recognize what Maziar and I had. He was able to push past his opinions and old traditions, unexpectedly planting a seed of hope in my chest. I could feel it starting to bloom around my heart.

  Chapter Thirty

  It had been five days since Maziar’s accident. The doctors had reduced the amount of barbiturates given to him, taking him out of the coma on the third day.

  The coma was only a temporary solution, decreasing the pressure built up on his brain after the impact to minimize any permanent damage on the portions affected. By the third day, the doctors had seen enough reduction in swelling and Maziar’s brain waves had normalized. They’d warned us, however, that even though the drugs were going to be reduced and he was going to be taken off the ventilator, he might not wake up immediately. His body was still fighting against the plethora of injuries.

  I had sat next to Maziar’s bed holding his hand since he had been admitted. I’d left only for a few hours to shower and sleep. And when they took him off the ventilator, I stood next to him, holding my breath with the rest of his family while we waited to see if he’d inhale on his own.

  My parents were worried that I’d collapse if I continued at this pace but could see that there was no point in trying to convince me otherwise. The tides had changed over the past week and everyone could see it. I was driven by my dedication to him and fueled by my love. The dam I’d built between us, keeping him at bay, convincing myself that we were better apart, had shattered. I had a newfound purpose, a strength that I’d pulled from deep down in my soul. Even Maziar’s family sensed it and I could feel their resolve shaking beneath my force. I didn’t care anymore what anyone thought, and everyone knew it.

  I had almost lost him. I’d spent the past five days by his bedside, making every deal possible with my maker, begging that Maziar wake up. I’d cried all the tears I had, leaving me anxiety ridden and exhausted.

  He hadn’t woken up yet. He hadn’t twitched an eyelid or flicked a finger. The stress of sitting around waiting for the past two days had worn us all down. They had lifted the two-visitor ban for us and now I sat in the chair to Maziar’s right, while his mother sat across from me on the other side of his bed. She would go in and out of her catatonic state, looking up only when someone addressed her directly or urged her to drink something. I had yet to see a definite sign that she even knew I existed.

  His father and Bita sat in the far c
orner on two adjacent seats next to each other, quietly whispering. Leyla had just come back, staying true to her word and only leaving me alone for a few hours at a time. If I had let her, she would have glued herself to my side for the past week.

  We all existed quietly in the space between us. The anger and hatred had dissipated, all of us too consumed with worry and exhaustion to engage in any other battles. Parviz had eased into a more comfortable new normal with me. He would smile when I walked in or pat me on the shoulder as he walked out of the room. He would engage in short, polite conversations with me. Bita and I were content to just avoid each other, the natural glares and anger having taken a back seat to our current situation.

  I had minimal contact with Ben while in the hospital. He would text me to check in, sending me pictures of boxes he was packing, trying to remain positive about our move. Every time my phone rang, though, I was filled with dread. I wanted to escape, to hide within the four walls of Maziar’s hospital room where nothing but he and I existed. Instead of telling Ben I’d changed my mind, I continued to sound invested. I knew it was wrong to lead him on, but I wanted to avoid the inevitable conversation for as long as I could. I had too much already on my plate. Today, though, was the day we were supposed to be heading to Santa Barbara.

  I stood up and stretched, needing to shake the stiffness from sitting idly too long out of my limbs. I turned toward Leyla.

  “Want to take a walk with me to the cafeteria?”

  “Of course,” she replied, standing up.

  I wondered, at that moment, how I would’ve ever gotten through life without her. She was as loyal as they came, fierce in protecting me. She’d held my hand throughout my entire ordeal with Maziar, from the moment it began, and now she stood vigilant beside me, daring anyone to try to push me around. I realized how lucky I was to have been blessed in finding a sister like her.