Between Faith and Love

confrontment

After March went home, Zephaniah stepped inside, the familiar scent of her home doing little to comfort her. The air felt heavy as her parents called her to sit on the couch, their expressions unreadable but tense.

“zephaniah,” her mother began, voice shaky but rising with each word, “we are really disappointed in you. Why? Why her? Why a girl?!”

Zephaniah’s heart raced, panic tightening her throat. She had expected sooner or later her parents will find out, she had expected a reaction, but not like this. She wanted to defend herself, to explain, but the words caught in her chest. Her mother continued, anger simmering beneath her tears, “You’ve been taught that liking the same gender is a sin! We’ve raised you better than this! How could you lie to us?”

Her father, usually calm, interjected with a pained expression. “I saw you both kissing at the beach, Zephaniah. You have to understand how serious this is. What will people think? What about your future?”

The weight of their disappointment crashed down on her like a tidal wave. Zephaniah felt small and powerless, tears spilling down her cheeks as her mother’s words echoed in her mind. “You’re not just hurting yourself, Zephaniah. You’re hurting us! You’re throwing away everything we’ve taught you, everything we have planned for you!”

In that moment, something inside her snapped. “I love her!” she shouted, her voice breaking. “I can’t help it! I love her, even if it means I’m a failure and disappointment to you guys!”

Her mother’s face twisted in disbelief, her voice trembling. “This isn’t love, Zephaniah! You’re confused. This is just a phase! You don’t know what you’re saying!”

Zephaniah felt a surge of desperation. “You don’t understand! You don’t know how it feels to love someone so deeply, so purely. It’s not a choice! I didn’t choose this!”

The room fell silent, the only sound being Zephaniah’s ragged breaths. “We’ve taught you right from wrong,” her father said quietly, disappointment etched into his features. “This goes against everything we believe. We worry about your soul.”

“Maybe you should worry about how I feel instead!” Zephaniah cried, her heart aching. “I’m not asking for your approval; I’m just trying to live my life! If you can’t accept me, then maybe I don’t belong here.”

Her mother covered her face with her hands, tears slipping through her fingers. “We only want what’s best for you, Zephaniah. We’re just scared...”

Zephaniah shook her head, feeling lost. “Scared of what? That I’ll be happy with someone you don’t approve of? You’ve always taught me to be true to myself, but now I can’t even do that with you!”

Her mother spoke up voice cracking, "this is not you Zephaniah"with a look full of pain.

The argument felt endless, filled with harsh truths and raw emotions. Finally, Zephaniah stood up, her heart shattered, and turned to flee up the stairs, her voice echoing with despair. “I can’t do this anymore!” she shouted, running to her room and slamming the door behind her.

She collapsed onto her bed, the tears flowing freely now. “I just want to be loved,” she whispered to herself, feeling utterly alone, as the weight of their expectations crushed her spirit.

The next day, March couldn’t find Zephaniah anywhere at school. After searching around, she hurried to Zephaniah's classroom, but her classmate casually mentioned that Zephaniah was absent. A wave of worry washed over March, and her heart sank. After lunch, she found Jehwell and shared her concerns, her voice heavy with anxiety. Jehwell, always a good friend, comforted her, though she could see the unease in March’s eyes.

"I think I'm going to skip afternoon classes and check on her," March said, her voice barely a whisper.

Jehwell nodded. "Go to her. I'll cover for you if anyone asks."

With a nod of thanks, March rushed out. She knew Zephaniah’s parents wouldn’t be home—church duties kept them busy during the day—which meant Zephaniah was completely alone.

When March arrived at Zephaniah’s house, she quickly rang the doorbell and called out, “Hey Zephaniah, it’s March!” She waited, anxiety twisting her insides. After what felt like forever, the door creaked open, revealing Zephaniah standing there, her eyes red and swollen from crying. Without a word, Zephaniah stumbled forward, collapsing into March’s arms, sobbing into her shoulder.

March, overwhelmed with concern, pulled her inside, guiding her to the couch. “Zephaniah... what happened?” Her voice trembled with worry as she looked at Zephaniah’s tear-streaked face.

Zephaniah struggled to find the words, her body shaking. “They know, March... my parents... they found out. Last night, they—” her voice cracked, “—they shouted at me. They’re mad. They said I’m a disappointment, that... that our relationship is wrong.” Her voice faltered as the pain in her words cut deep.

March felt her chest tighten, tears filling her own eyes. She wrapped her arms around Zephaniah, holding her tightly as Zephaniah trembled in her arms, her sobs filling the silence of the room. “It’s going to be okay, Zephaniah,” March whispered, trying to reassure her even as tears fell down her own cheeks. “We’ll figure this out. We’ll get through this.”

But suddenly, Zephaniah pulled away, standing up as her emotions boiled over. “No, it’s not going to be okay!” she shouted, her voice raw. “Nothing is going to be okay, March! They hate me! They hate us! I’ve ruined everything!”

March stood up, reaching for her, her own heart breaking at Zephaniah’s pain. “Zephaniah, it is going to be okay. We promised each other, remember? We promised we’d never give up on each other.”

Zephaniah shook her head, her sobs uncontrollable, but March wouldn’t let go. She wrapped her arms around Zephaniah once more, holding her tightly, as if holding on would keep them both from falling apart.

“We’ll figure this out,” March whispered into Zephaniah’s hair, her voice soft but resolute. “Together. We’ll face this together.”

For a moment, they just stood there, holding each other in the silence, both of them tearing up, both of them afraid, but neither willing to let go.