Forbidden by Faith

by Negeen Papehn

  I scooted onto the bed next to him. He immediately reached out and pulled my face to his, kissing me gently. It began slow and soft, then was overcome by the fierce desperation that had now permanently settled between us. The fear of each moment being out last, always lingered in the back of our minds since the accident. When I pulled back to face him, he instinctively grabbed hold of my hand, refusing to let me get farther than the range of his reach.

  “What’s going on, Sara? What has my mother done?” he asked, getting right to the point.

  “Okay, before I tell you, you have to promise you won’t lose it. It’ll only make the situation worse,” I pleaded, so nervous I could hear ringing in my ears.

  “Sara, tell me,” he said, the anger already beginning to brew within him.

  “See, you’re already getting mad and I haven’t even told you anything yet!”

  He took a deep breath, trying to center himself. “Okay, I won’t get upset. Just tell me. The suspense is making it worse.”

  I looked at him, knowing the minute the words left my lips, he wouldn’t be able to control his fury. I had no idea what he would do next. For a minute, I began to doubt that telling him was the best idea. I knew I would spark the beginning of a war, and I was certain that in the end we would all lose somehow.

  “Sara, just tell me. I’ll be fine,” he demanded.

  I steadied my voice as I began to replay the details of the conversation I had with Naghmeh. He sat quietly, listening the entire time, taking care not to interrupt me. I could see the frustration building as I spoke, but I tried to ignore it, telling myself I was doing the right thing by telling him.

  “You should have told me right when it happened,” he said when I was done.

  “I didn’t know what I was supposed to do,” I replied weakly.

  “What do you mean you didn’t know what to do? Were you really thinking of walking away again, Sara? I spent the past few days terrified you’d changed your mind about us, going crazy in this jail cell of a room. Now I find out that I was right to be worried, that you were thinking of leaving me just because my mother said you should.” He wore his disappointment like armor.

  “I know I shouldn’t have stayed away, Maziar. I’m sorry. But she literally said this won’t work! It scared me.”

  “Why would it scare you? I told you already that what they think doesn’t matter. I want you, and no one is going to change that.”

  “You say that now, but what if they never leave us alone? What if you can’t stand up to them forever? I’m scared that in the end you’ll leave,” I said, the desperation coating my words.

  A tenderness took over his features, replacing the anger that was there just moments ago.

  “Come here,” he said, as he patted the spot next to him on the bed. I scooted into the pillows, nestling safely beneath his arm, placing my head in the space between his shoulder and neck. “We knew this was going to happen. Just because we’ve decided that we are going to be together no matter what, doesn’t mean the people are going to stop. But I’m never leaving you. I promise you that, Sara. I love you. My mom can’t say or do anything to change that.”

  I knew this was a risk, but it always was when it came to love. I didn’t know the future, but I knew that I didn’t want to walk away from Maziar. I loved him. I trusted him wholeheartedly, and I decided I would trust in this too. I would believe him when he said he had chosen me.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  I was sitting at home later that evening when my phone began to ring. I glanced over and saw Maziar’s number pop up on my screen, releasing the surge of butterflies that had been waiting in the pit of my stomach. I’d been dreading his call, not knowing what I would hear on the other end. I picked up immediately.

  “Hi.”

  “Hey, baby,” he said, calmly.

  “Everything okay?”

  “It’s fine, but I need you to do me a favor. I need you to meet me at my apartment in twenty minutes,” he directed.

  “Wait, what?” I asked, thinking I hadn’t heard him correctly.

  “I’ll explain everything when I get there,” he said. “Pasha is coming to pick me up. Will you meet me?”

  “Of course, but I don’t understand. You can’t even walk,” I pointed out worriedly.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  Suddenly, I became aware of voices in the background. I could hear yelling and crying, all intertwined with each other. I couldn’t make out what they were saying at first but I could identify his mother’s voice, matched in equal volume by his father’s. Bita must have stepped closer to Maziar because I could clearly hear her when she spoke.

  “You’re seriously going to leave your entire family for some stupid little bitch!”

  The phone became muffled, Maziar undoubtedly covering the receiver. I stood frozen in my room, left dumbfounded by the chaos unfolding on the other end of the line.

  “Bita, shut your mouth. You’re never to talk about her like that again, do you understand me?” he yelled. I envisioned her cowering away from his wrath.

  He turned his attention back on me. “I’ll see you in twenty minutes.”

  “Okay,” was all I could muster up my wits to say.

  “I love you,” he said, before he hung up.

  I looked down at my phone, the dial tone still blaring, trying to comprehend what was going on. I shut it off and began looking around my room as if I was searching for an answer within its four walls. Was this all really happening or was I stuck in some horrible dream? I didn’t know.

  It took me five minutes to break out of my daze and start moving around collecting my things. I continued to walk in a fuzzy haze, out my door and into the kitchen. Mom was busy washing dishes. She looked over her shoulder at me.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked immediately.

  I slid into one of the seats at the kitchen table and she came to sit across from me. The concern was evident in her eyes but she didn’t say anything. Just waited.

  “I think Maziar just fought with his mom over me. He’s moving back to his apartment.”

  Mom looked shocked, then told me to start from the beginning and tell her everything that happened. I launched into an explanation of the past five minutes. When I was done, a small smile broke out across her face.

  “Well, good for him,” she said, more to herself than me.

  For the first time Maziar had made it abundantly clear that he’d chosen me.

  I made it to the apartment in record time, but he hadn’t arrived yet. I picked up my phone and dialed Leyla’s number.

  “Hey, what’s up?” she said in her chipper voice.

  “He moved out of his parent’s house,” I blurted out.

  “Wait, what? Maziar? What happened?”

  I could hear her interest building on the other end as she tried to patiently wait for me to finish my explanation.

  “I’m sitting in my car, waiting for him to show up now,” I said, when I was done.

  “No shit. Wow.” She laughed. “I’m pretty impressed right now. He’s definitely a keeper.”

  “Yeah, he is, isn’t he?”

  For the first time in a very long time, I let myself toy with the idea that this could actually work. I had to admit, I was pretty amazed myself at how Maziar had put his foot down, making it clear I wasn’t going anywhere this time. He’d been saying he had chosen me, but the nagging voice in the back of my mind continued to tell me to tread cautiously. But now, there was no confusing his intentions. I wasn’t just proud; I was madly in love with him.

  “I’ve got to go,” I said, as Pasha pulled up. I grabbed my stuff and quickly made my way over to his car. “What have you done?” I asked him, as he opened the door.

  He reached out and grabbed my outstretched hand as I helped him out of the car. Once he was standing in front of me, he leaned down so his face was inches away from mine.

  “I was defending your honor,” he said, his breath warm on my lips. Then, he leaned towar
d my ear and whispered, “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” I said, shuddering.

  Pasha brought the wheelchair over, interrupting us. I instinctively tried to take a step back but Maziar stopped me, instead leaning in and kissing my lips. I blushed with embarrassment as Pasha stood witness to our tender moment.

  Once Maziar was settled in his seat, we headed down the walkway to the apartment. Luckily, it was on the first floor, so we didn’t have to tackle the problem of the stairs. Maziar handed me the keys, and I pushed the front door open, allowing Pasha to roll him inside. I’d never been to his apartment before.

  I stepped in to find a large open space that housed the living room, kitchen, and dining area. To my right, a white L-shaped couch sat up against the wall with a black rectangular coffee table nestled in between it. Across the room was a large flat-screen television with a matching shelf unit underneath, decorated with his books and a few framed photographs.

  One of the frames caught my attention. It had a black and white photo of Maziar and me in it from Pasha’s party. Azi must have taken it. I couldn’t remember what we were talking about, but I was laughing at something Maziar had said. I was leaning into him and we were looking at each other, unaware that the moment was being captured on film. The tenderness in his smile and the way he was looking at me sent chills up my spine.

  I wandered down the hallway toward the sound of the two boys from the other room. I passed by two doors on my left, the first opening into the guest bathroom and the second into a small bedroom that Maziar had converted into his office. There was a blue Persian rug thrown on the floor. How Iranian of him, I thought to myself as I smiled. To the right was the master bedroom.

  Pasha had Maziar situated on the bed, propping his leg up with some pillows. He was moving it every which way, trying to make sure he had it adequately elevated. Maziar took it in stride, never complaining even though I could see his discomfort. When he was done, he stepped back, admiring his work with a boyish grin.

  “I have to go pick up my mom,” he said, as he glanced down at his watch. “I’ll come back after. Should I pick up some dinner on my way?”

  “Yeah, that would be great,” Maziar responded.

  “Who’s staying with him tonight?” I asked Pasha, knowing Maziar couldn’t be alone. “He obviously can’t fend for himself. We’re going to have to figure out who’s willing to help and come up with some sort of schedule.”

  “I know. I wasn’t really thinking of that part when I stormed out, or should I say, rolled out of my house,” Maziar said jokingly, something he always did when he was nervous.

  “It’s okay, baby. We’ll figure it out,” I replied, trying to comfort him. I didn’t want to make him more anxious by showing him I was worried with the details. “I’ll stay the whole time myself if I have to.”

  “I can take the first shift tonight. I’m sure Emanuel will pitch in as well. I’ll call him when I get in the car,” Pasha interjected.

  “I’m sure Neda will, too,” I said.

  “Okay that’s four. Totally doable. I have to go, but I’ll call you when I’m heading back about dinner.” He bumped fists with Maziar and kissed my cheek as he grabbed his keys and left the room.

  I scooted beside Maziar on the bed when he was gone. He looked tired and worried, despite his best efforts to hide it from me. I reached out and played with his hair. I could see the fatigue take over his body as he sank into the mattress. His eyes began to flutter closed, sleep flirtatiously beckoning him into her cocoon.

  “My mom pretty much disowned me and I almost killed Bita,” he said, behind closed lids.

  “It was that bad, huh? I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It’s their fault. They’re being unreasonable. My dad was pretty awesome, though.”

  “Yeah? What did he do?” I said, comforted that at least Maziar hadn’t faced their wrath alone.

  “He backed me up the whole time, telling my mom that it was my life and that you were a great girl. It was cool.” He smiled, eyes still closed.

  “That makes me so happy,” I told him, leaning in and kissing his head. “Let yourself sleep now. You need some rest.”

  “No, I don’t want to leave you alone while I sleep,” he protested.

  “I’m not alone. I want you to sleep,” I said, gently pushing him back down. “I’m just going to sit here next to you and watch television.”

  “Are you sure?” he mumbled, exhausted.

  “Yes, I’m sure. There isn’t anywhere else I’d rather be.”

  He smiled and turned his head toward me so he was nestled up against my arm. Within minutes, his breathing slowed, and I could see his eyes fluttering behind his lashes. He looked peaceful, all the worry lines on his face relaxing away as he dreamed.

  Two hours later, when Pasha showed up with dinner, he woke up upon feeling the mattress shift beneath him as I got up to open the front door. We helped him move onto the couch just as Neda arrived. He seemed more rested and in better spirits than earlier and I was able to relax. I was wound up with worry about whether he’d regret walking out on his family as the day progressed. When he kissed me goodbye that evening, I couldn’t find any remorse in his eyes.

  My parents had waited up for me. I found them on the couch when I came home. I was tired, but I sat down and explained what had happened between Maziar and his family anyway. When I was done, I told them that I’d be alternating shifts with the others to help care for him until he could better do it on his own.

  “I’ve got the next two nights,” I stated.

  “Okay, you should help him,” Mom said, surprising me. I’d expected her to protest in the name of tradition.

  By standing up to his family, Maziar had proven his level of commitment to me in her eyes. Any apprehension she’d felt regarding his intentions had seemed to disappear. She was still upset that Naghmeh was adamantly against us, but the wheels were in motion now, and there was nothing left to do but be supportive.

  The following morning, I had breakfast with my family, then drove over to Maziar’s apartment to spend the next few days with him. The sun was shining brightly, its warmth laying kisses on my skin through the open window. A subtle breeze was blowing, and birds were soaring on its current through the sky.

  I could see something new for Maziar and me balancing on the horizon ahead, the start of the next set of chapters in the story of us.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  The weeks passed melodically with Maziar and me falling into the comfortable familiarity between us. I spent most of my time at his apartment, leaving only when my position was relieved by the others. He’d become restless, prisoner to his disabilities, so when the day approached that he was to get his casts off, he fluttered about, antsy with the anticipation.

  I was in the throes of getting set up to start working, worried about how I would leave him when I did. I’d been hired in the Palisades where I’d originally done my internship. When my trip to Santa Barbara was canceled, I’d reached out to the company regarding a position that was local. Seti had pulled strings with corporate, and I’d been taken up shortly after. I was to start in two weeks.

  When the day of Maziar’s appointment arrived, we were both relieved. I drove him over to the office and helped him out of the car. As I wheeled him toward the entrance of the doctor’s office, his parents suddenly appeared, standing before the double doors. I shook my head, trying to clear it, making sure I wasn’t imaging it. He’d kept in touch with his father, but he’d avoided his mother and sister at all costs. It had been weeks since he’d seen them.

  The cool façade of indifference settled over his features while the fury of anger burned viciously behind his eyes. I held my breath as I approached them, trying desperately not to stumble over my feet. I was terrified of how the next few minutes would unfold.

  “Hi, son,” Parviz said energetically, as if it were just another day.

  “Hi, Dad,” Maziar replied, never breaking eye contact wit
h his mother.

  She didn’t say anything, just challenged him with her own pride and resilience. His father and I looked back and forth between them waiting for the next move, but none came. Eons passed as they each engaged in their own cause, neither leaving their stubborn posts. The moment was broken only by the sound of the lock on the front doors opening. I was consumed by the anxiety of the silent exchange between them, fidgeting from foot to foot.

  “Take me inside, Sara,” Maziar demanded, without turning away from her.

  I didn’t move, afraid that my compliance would only further the riff between his mother and me, something that would not be in the best interest of any of us. Maziar’s frustration was palpable as he turned toward me, having to break the staring contest between them.

  “Let’s go,” he said, with such assertions that my legs moved forward on their own.

  Parviz held the door open for us as I pushed Maziar inside. I placed his wheelchair at the end of the row of chairs in the waiting area and approached the desk to sign him in. I was glad to have something to do; their animosity was debilitating. I felt sorry for his father, stuck in the middle of this mess.

  I busied myself at the desk, trying to stall as long as I could before returning to where Maziar was waiting for me. I sat down in the chair beside him and he immediately reached out and grabbed my hand. I desperately wished the floor beneath us would open up and swallow me so I could hide from his mother’s burning rage. The face-off had me petrified.

  He was called in a few minutes later. They didn’t attempt to follow us in, knowing that Maziar would only veto their entrance. Once inside the examination room, the nurse took Maziar’s vitals, then left. I finally exhaled, unaware I’d been holding my breath. He reached out, still in his chair, and held my hand.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  I just looked at him and wondered how I was supposed to answer that question. His mother hated me and saw me as the prime cause for her son’s disappearance. She thought I was tearing her family apart.