I was madly in love with him, but the fear that she would succeed in somehow breaking us up was making its way back up my throat, forming into a scream. He was oblivious to the possibility that our union would prove to be a mistake. I wanted to yell at him, I wanted to cry, I wanted to tell him that in fact I wasn’t okay, that I’d turned into a basket case of emotions lying so heavy on my chest that my heart felt like it was going to explode. I wanted to tell him that, despite what I had said, I was still terrified, even after his declaration of love, even after he’d openly chosen me, and even after he told me he would never ever leave me. I wanted to tell him that the terror of losing him was all-consuming and hadn’t left a moment of my thoughts.
Instead, I said, “I’m fine,” the truth only becoming another obstacle we couldn’t face.
The doctor came in a few minutes later. The nurse followed with a tray of equipment that looked like torture instruments rather than medical supplies. Maziar cowered back on the examination table as the doctor reached over and grabbed the saw off the tray. It had a threatening metal blade with pointed teeth, and when it was turned on, it moved back and forth rapidly. The doctor laughed at Maziar’s fearful expression, assuring him it would only cut through the plaster and not his skin. Nonetheless, he held my hand and closed his eyes like a child until it was over.
The skin beneath the plaster was paled and dulled in comparison to the darkened skin that spread across the rest of his limbs. His leg appeared slightly smaller than the other, since the muscles had atrophied beneath the cast’s confinements. The doctor assured him that the appearance of both his leg and wrist were normal and would resolve with time. As Maziar tried to move them, he was met with stiffness and discomfort in his joints. His frustration was evident even after the doctor told him it would take some time to recover.
When we returned to the waiting room, his parents were still sitting where we’d left them. Naghmeh looked at Maziar and the two of them engaged in another silent conversation, each ruffling their feathers to prove their dominance. Then, without a word, she stood up and walked out the door. Parviz was startled by her abrupt exit and quickly stood up.
“Bye, son,” he said, kissing Maziar on the head, then squeezing my hand as he scurried after his wife.
Why had she come all this way only to refuse to speak to her son? I couldn’t understand how it was possible for his mother to hang on to her beliefs so tightly, even after Maziar had almost died. It felt wrong on a fundamental level. I knew she thought that things couldn’t work between us. In her mind, she might have even thought she was working for her son’s benefit by trying to keep us apart. Still, she was choosing to lose him over letting go.
He sat there, in his wheelchair, hard as stone. He portrayed a picturesque vision of calm and cool, as if the riff between them equated to nothing more than breaking a favorite mug. It was upsetting and annoying, but inconsequential. There was no sign of the betrayal and pain I imagined he was feeling in that moment. His performance was Oscar-worthy, so believable that I started to question whether his family truly was unimportant.
Once inside the car, I turned to face him, expecting to find something broken within him. Instead, I was met with a smile that reached the edges of his eyes and a genuine sense of happiness swirling around him. I sat back, confused.
“Are you hungry?” he asked. “Can I treat you to lunch?”
I looked at him, wondering if I were caught in some alternate world. How was he able to so easily move past what had just happened in the doctor’s office?
“I just don’t want to deal with it right now. Can we pretend none of that happened back there until later?” he said, addressing the bewildered look on my face. “Today was supposed to be a good day. I finally got my damn casts off. I just want to be happy about it for a little while. Enjoy having lunch with my girlfriend. Can we do that?”
I didn’t answer, still trying to wrap my head around it all.
“I hate what just happened. I’m angry and hurt by my mom, but I can’t give in to her demands. It’s my life, she needs to understand that. I just don’t want to let her ruin any more days we have together so I’m choosing to let go of those feelings for now. Does that make sense?” he asked, trying to explain his reaction.
As I looked deep into his hazel eyes, I realized he’d decided not to allow his mother any more power over his emotions. Taking away her influence was a way for Maziar to take back control. I could support him in that.
“Yes, it does,” I said. “Let’s go get some lunch.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
It had been a month since I began my job at CVS. Since the internship, Seti had gotten married and was now five months pregnant with her first baby. We’d spend a few minutes chatting when our shifts ran back-to-back, so she knew how things had gone with Maziar’s family.
Weeks passed, but Maziar never attempted to reach out to his mother or sister. At first, Bita made frequent attempts to contact him, but after his persistent refusal to speak to her, it had dwindled. In their absence, the two of us had fallen into a nice rhythm of playing house. I’d head to his apartment after work and we’d spend the rest of the evening together, making dinner and cuddling on the couch like newlyweds. I would sleep at home most nights, though, to keep my parents’ reprimanding to a minimum. They were supportive, but still had a tough time accepting that I was spending the night with a man out of wedlock. However ridiculous it was at my age, I tried to keep the sleepovers to a minimum.
Maziar was on his way to healing. With physical therapy, he was able to get around on his own. We still hadn’t been intimate since we’d rekindled our relationship, both acting like apprehensive teenagers afraid of rejection. The love between us was obvious, the desire tangible, and I was restless. I eagerly anticipated getting over our new-found shyness.
One Friday night, I’d been working later than usual and was exhausted when I got to his house. I slowly dragged my body out of the car and made the short walk to his door. I was still fumbling through my purse looking for my keys when Maziar opened the door.
He’d been home for a little while, so he was dressed in a pair of black sweats and a white T-shirt, his hair slicked back and wet from his shower. His skin had become even more tanned over the past few weeks, and he shimmered beneath the outdoor light. His eyes sparkled as he flashed me his beautiful smile, making my heart quicken as it always did.
He leaned in and took my bags, gently kissing my lips in the process. I felt a small spark as they touched mine, radiating down my torso and into my fingertips. I buzzed with the closeness of him.
He moved aside to allow me through the door. I was instantly enveloped by the smell of food cooking on the stove. I looked over and saw that he’d set the dining room table, two candles burning in its center. A bottle of wine was already open and sitting on the counter, flanked by two glasses. Maziar came around, placing my stuff on the couch, then walked into the kitchen to turn down the flame.
“Go shower and change while I finish dinner. It’ll be done in a few minutes,” he ordered playfully, eyes still twinkling.
I walked into the bedroom in a daze, my desire to be wrapped around his body growing by the second. As I stepped under the hot water, I closed my eyes and allowed myself to imagine him beside me, his hand running down the side of my body, his lips laying a path of kisses behind them. I had to breathe to avoid shuddering silently under the water, alone. When I finished, I put on a lacy bra and panties beneath my yoga pants and tank top in hopes that something would happen between us.
When I made my way back to the kitchen, Maziar had poured us two glasses of wine and was now dishing our food onto the plates. He’d made khoresteh ghaymeh, split pea stew, and white rice. I didn’t know he could make Persian food.
“I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve,” he said, reading my expression. He kissed my cheek as he walked past me. “I’m hoping to show you some of the others later tonight.”
I felt the heat explode ins
ide me as I saw the desire in his eyes. My face felt hot and I wondered if I were blushing. I walked over to the table and took my seat across from him, grabbing our wine glasses along the way.
He sat down across from me and took a sip, eyes intently burning into me as if he were looking right through my skin. I wondered if my need for him could be seen bursting out of me, a pattern of desire and lust spread across the wall behind me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. He broke the trance, turning his gaze toward his plate as he grabbed his fork and spoon. I felt hot and flustered, trying to keep the red from invading my cheeks.
“I hope you like it,” he said, as he put a spoonful of the stew into his mouth.
I looked down at my plate, fumbling with my own utensils as I tried regaining my composure. He watched me intently loading my spoon as I took a bite, balancing on the edge of his seat like a little kid, waiting to see my reaction. I found it endearing.
“Hmmm, that’s good,” I said, giving him the approval he so desperately wanted.
The food was actually delicious, and I hadn’t realized how hungry I’d been. We spent the rest of the meal enjoying the fruits of his labor while he poured us one glass of wine after another.
When we’d both had our fill, I stood up and started to clear off the table, with Maziar trailing behind me. Once all the dishes were in the sink, I turned on the water and started on the task of washing them. I could hear him cleaning off the table and grabbing the empty wine bottles behind me. Then, he suddenly went silent. Before I could turn around to see what had happened, I felt a familiar heat penetrate my back as Maziar came up behind me. My soapy dish froze midair as his breath rustled my hair, sending chills up my spine. He took one step closer, his chest leaning up against me, the beating of his heart thumping up against the back of my rib cage. I sucked in my breath as he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me in, eliminating the faintest space between us.
I could feel his desire hardened up against my lower back and my heart began to beat furiously against my chest. He slowly reached out and eased my arm down, placing the dish I was holding back into the sink. With the water still running, he gently placed his hand under my shirt. I gasped as it slowly inched up my stomach and over the delicate lace of my bra. He moved his fingers into the space between the fabric and my skin, running circles against my nipple. The desire shot through my body like fire, threatening to undo me right there against the kitchen sink. With my breast still in his hand, he reached up with the other and moved my hair aside, placing his lips on the tender skin of my neck. He teased me with a flutter of kisses, barely making contact. A groan escaped my lips. It had been so long since I’d felt his touch, each fingertip sending my body into convulsions.
He pulled my shirt up over my head and cast it to the side. With the hands of an expert, he unlatched my bra while flooding my neck and back with a trail of lips on skin. I could hardly breathe, the heat between my legs boiling with the need to feel him inside me.
I turned in his arms so I could face him, my bare chest brushing against his shirt. No longer able to resist, I pulled it over his head, placing my own trail of kisses over the tight muscles of his chest and stomach. He shuddered underneath my hand, encouraging me forward.
I moved my way back up to his mouth and began to tease him with my tongue. When he couldn’t take it any longer, he wrapped his hands in my hair and pulled my mouth to his, crushing me with his lips. The need for each other was as visible as the steam rising off the water running in the sink behind us.
Before I knew what had happened, Maziar had relieved us both of our unnecessary clothing, discarding them onto the floor. He pushed up against me, his desire hard and stiff against my thigh. He grabbed me by the waist and lifted me into the air, placing me down on the kitchen counter to his left. He pushed my legs open, creating a space that outlined his body perfectly. All of a sudden, he pulled back, severing the connections between us. I looked up at him, confused, desperate for more.
“I love you, Sara,” he said with such tenderness a knot formed in my throat.
“I love you, too.”
I laid my hand against his cheek, and he kissed the inside of my wrist. Then, he eased himself inside of me and slowly made love to me on the kitchen counter. Our bodies ignited with recognition, fitting together like lost puzzle pieces. Each movement felt new, yet old, as we discovered each other once again.
After it was over, we stayed there intertwined, our bodies leaning into each other with the sweet exhaustion that takes lovers afterward. I don’t know how long we stayed that way, but we held onto each other in desperation, trying to erase all the years we’d lost.
“I love you,” he whispered into my ear again.
“I love you, too.”
“Forever?” he asked. There was a fearful, childlike expression in his eyes, and I knew in that moment that I had the power to break him.
“For always.”
That night, long after I’d left him standing on the curb as he watched me drive away, I lay in bed thinking about how our lives were intertwined. We truly couldn’t survive without each other, two pieces of a whole. The idea of spending another day in this life without Maziar seemed unfathomable. I had found my true love years ago, and fate had given us a second chance. Now I was floating through the fairy tale I’d always dreamed of.
The next morning, I was still reeling from the night before. I fluttered around getting ready for work, a ridiculous Cheshire smile plastered across my face. Mom looked at me as I buzzed into the kitchen, humming. She raised her eyebrow in question, but didn’t say a word, as she sat down to breakfast with me.
When I got to work, Seti was waiting for me with stories of baby registries and itty-bitty items of necessity she’d discovered on her recent trip to Babies-R-Us. She was glowing with her pregnancy, happier than I’d ever seen her. They’d just found out the baby was a girl, so she’d gone crazy adding dresses and tutus to her wish list. She pulled up a chair while I got started on the day’s tasks, describing the baby nursery to me in detail.
A few minutes later, one of the techs came over to grab me for a consult. As I walked toward the front of the pharmacy, Seti followed, getting ready to head home. We both stopped abruptly as we approached the window, frozen as if we’d seen a ghost. Seti turned and looked at me just as my brain registered who it was.
Bita.
I stood dumbfounded, unable to wrap my head around Bita’s presence in my store. It made no sense, the confusion hindering my ability to form a coherent sentence. I almost expected her to dissipate into a puff of smoke, proving to be only my imagination.
“I’m really sorry to show up like this, but could I talk to you, Sara?” Bita asked, diverting her eyes toward Seti, who was now standing in front of me protectively. “I just want to talk, I swear. I’m not here to cause any trouble,” she said, more to Seti than me. “Please.”
I continued to just stand there, unable to decide on how to proceed. Seti wasn’t convinced by Bita’s kind-girl act and took a step forward, breaking me out of my frozen trance. I reached out stopping her, afraid she’d hurl her pregnant body at Maziar’s sister.
“It’s fine,” I said. “I’ll be fine,” I assured her.
“You know you don’t have to talk to her. You don’t owe her anything,” Seti responded bitterly.
I was facing Bita as Seti spoke, and I noticed an unfamiliar humbleness in her. The fire I’d seen burning in her eyes so many times before was gone, instead replaced by a deep pain that clutched onto the remaining embers of her flame. The confident girl I was used to was nowhere to be found.
She reminded me of a beautiful bird with a fractured wing that had finally realized soaring above the clouds wasn’t all that life entailed, and even those who soared too close to the sun could burn. Her family wasn’t as invincible as she’d originally believed, shattered apart and thrown to the wind when Maziar drew his line in the sand. I knew I should hate her, that there was an evilness in her that wa
s only masked by her instability without her brother. But the heart in me that wanted to believe people were inherently good still felt compelled to hear her out.
“Come back at lunch,” I said, watching relief flood Bita’s features.
“Are you crazy? Did you forget what they did to you?” Seti said in protest.
“No, I haven’t forgotten. But if it were my brother, I’d hope Maziar would do the same,” I replied, keeping my eyes trained on Bita.
“Thank you.” She turned and left before Seti had a chance to change my mind.
“Okay, but walk away if it gets ugly. Promise me,” Seti demanded.
“I will. Now go home and put those swollen feet up. I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl.”
“I know. Will you call me after work and tell me what happened?” she asked.
“Yes. Now go,” I said, lovingly pushing her toward the pharmacy door.
Once she was out of sight, I leaned against the counter, trying to steady my nerves. One of my technicians came over to ask me if I was okay.
“I’m fine,” I said, then excused myself to the bathroom.
I stood staring at my reflection in the mirror, splashing water on my pale face. I was tired, so very tired of dealing with the constant roller coaster ride I felt like I was always on. The past few months without Maziar’s family had been amazing, giving us a fair chance for once to explore what we could be. I was terrified that they would rear their heads, causing it all to come crashing down around me again.
I spent the rest of the morning questioning Bita’s motives, trying to figure out why she would possibly want to talk to me. I kept staring at the clock, cursing at its snail’s pace as the minutes stretched on. The anticipation was killing me.
It seemed like an eternity before my lunch break finally arrived. I grabbed my bag and headed out the door, trying to keep from breaking into a sprint. True to her word, Bita stood outside, waiting. When I saw her, I had the strange feeling that in an alternate world we would have been friends and this could have been a regular Saturday lunch date. But, sadly, that alternate world didn’t exist.
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