A Tragic Heart (33 page)

“Yeah, you are two different people, and that’s why I love you. You’re unlike anyone else and it makes me happy to say that I have you. Adalyn is old news, like I said. But you are my current state and my future. I’m not going anywhere and I pray to God that you’re not either,” Peyton says, rolling onto his back with his head turned toward me.

“I’m not going anywhere either, Peyton. I love you too much.” I kiss him intensely, but he stops me.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, looking at his soul through his eyes.

“Nothing. It’s just that…you’re getting me…uh…excited…and I’m too hurt to do anything,” he says, looking at me and touching my arm softly.

“Well, you don’t have to do anything this time,” I say, before going on with the kiss.

I’m more than ready to make Peyton my husband. I tell him that as soon as we get back to Arizona, I want to marry him, busy schedule or not. I can’t wait any longer and time isn’t going to make a difference, so we might as well get it over with.

“I love you,” I say laying my head on his hard, bare chest.

“I love you too,” he replies before falling asleep.

I fall asleep in Peyton’s arms and I’ve never felt safer.
God, don’t ever take him away from me
.

***

Before Peyton’s unfortunate run-in with Karson, we planned to do a number of adventurous activities during our stay in Perth. Since Peyton’s too hurt to do anything, we decide to use this trip as relaxation before Mason and I start college next month and Peyton begins traveling back and forth from New York to Los Angeles. There’s even talk about him going over to Europe for a few months. I’ll miss him miserably but I guess staying focused on my schoolwork will help.

Mason and I walk on the beach that Peyton’s house overlooks, as Peyton sits on the front porch, watching. He claims he’s a bit sore and he needs to sit long enough for his painkillers to kick in. For the past two days, he hasn’t been very active. I think his condition is starting to make him a little depressed.

“I’m worried about Peyton,” I tell Mason as we walk on the beach with the sunset as our background.

It isn’t exactly warm outside; it’s only about sixty-four degrees. Since Australia is in the Southern Hemisphere, July is winter.

“Why?” Mason asks, picking up a pebble and throwing it into the ocean.

“He’s been different lately. I think he’s depressed because of what happened with Karson. He doesn’t like to be the victim or
admit he’s hurting, but I can see it. He hasn’t even been taking his medication for his bipolar disorder,” I confide in Mason.

“Just give him some time; he’ll come around. I do believe the incident with Karson made it worse, because seeing him reminded Peyton of his mother and that has always been a touchy thing for him. But that’s not the only reason he’s been down,” Mason informs me.

“What do you know, Mason?”

“He’s afraid of leaving you. He knows once we get back to Arizona, his time with you is limited and soon he’ll be away for months at a time without seeing you. He’s worried about leaving you alone and he’s afraid of missing you; it’s written all over him. Peyton has always been the type to distance himself from someone he cares about when he knows a good-bye is in order. He thinks it helps both people in the situation and that it will make the goodbye easier, since you two will not be as close as you usually are. I think somewhere inside he knows that’s not true but he’s going to stick to that theory anyway.”

Mason knows so much about Peyton and he doesn’t even have to speak to him. They are really like brothers. That becomes clear to me in these few seconds.

“Well, he shouldn’t, and I’m going to make him forget about that theory. I already told him that as soon as we get back home, I want to marry him. I want to do this before he leaves again,” I say, playing with the ring on my left ring finger.

“Are you sure you don’t want to wait for him to come back? It may be too much of a strain to marry him now and then have him leave right after. You won’t be able to enjoy him there as your husband,” Mason says honestly.

He has a point that is hard to argue. If Peyton leaves right after we say “I do,” that would be hurtful to us as husband and wife.

“I’ll just ask him what he wants and what he feels is best. He’s the one who has to be away from me and only he knows if he can handle it or not. I’ve been selfish and I’ve never asked him what he wanted or what he thought was best. I probably should do that now.” I’m talking to Mason but it sounds as if I am really thinking aloud.

“That’ll be a good idea,” Mason agrees. “I don’t ever want to see you and Peyton end up like you and me.”

His eyes are sincere. I know that I have to talk to Peyton. This isn’t a decision I have the right to make on my own. It’s a decision that’s going to affect the rest our lives. Mason and I walk back to the house to find Peyton still sitting on the porch, looking through old photographs of himself and his parents. Mason goes into the house to give us some alone time, and I sit on Peyton’s lap, admiring each picture.

“This was taken right after I had my first fight with Mason. We were so mad at each other,” Peyton says, laughing at the pouting looks on his face and Mason’s.

“What were you two fighting about?”

“I tricked Mason into doing something—I can’t remember what—but he got hurt from it and he ran crying to his mom and told on me. I called him a snitch and beat him up and we didn’t speak to each other for a full hour.”

“Oooh, a full hour. You two must have been pretty angry,” I say, mocking Peyton.

He just laughs. “That was the longest we’ve ever gone without speaking—until recently. I’m glad that’s over,” he says, moving on to the next picture. “This was on my fifth birthday. It was my last year living in this house and the last good year my parents were together. After that, everything went downhill.”

I see the hurt on his face and realize the effect his parents’ decisions had on him. Peyton turned out great for a boy with a troubled past; that’s why he deserves a carefree future.

“Do you want to get married now?” I ask the question I’ve been keeping inside.

“Of course I do. I want to get married whenever you want to.”

“No, Peyton. Do you think it’s a good idea for us to get married as soon as we get back home if you’re going to leave right after? Or do you think we should wait until you come back? It’s your call. You’re the one who has to be away from me. Can you handle it?”

“Can you?” Peyton answers me with a question.

“I can. I’ll miss you like hell, but I’ll deal somehow. I’ll just use my schoolwork as a distraction. But I don’t want the fact that you’re
not there to be a strain on our marriage. I want us to last,” I tell him, only making eye contact every once in a while.

“We will. I don’t want you to think that marrying me sooner rather than later is going to mean we won’t last. I’m fine with it either way—as long as I get to spend the rest of my life with you, I’m okay,” he says, holding my hand.

“Maybe we should wait—just until you come back. That way, we’ll have more time together and we can get to actually live like husband and wife.”

“If that’s what you want. Even if you change your mind again, I’m cool with it.”

Peyton lets me get my way too often, and I want that to change. I know he just wants to make me happy, but I want him to be just as happy as I am. That’s what being in love is about: making each other as happy as possible.

“Peyton, are you sure you’re okay with this?” I want to be certain.

“Yeah—I’m fine; honestly, I am.” He kisses me.

“And Peyton?”

“What is it?” he asks, placing his arm around my waist.

“Stop being so distant. I don’t like it.”

“I’m not being—”

“Yes you are,” I say, refusing to let him finish his sentence.

He doesn’t try to argue or defend himself; he just apologizes and kisses me gently. Something isn’t right with Peyton, and he and I both know it.

***

During the rest of the trip Peyton tries not to be so distracted, but he still isn’t the same person I know. Overall, we all have a great time in Perth, Australia; we all needed this time together. In the blink of an eye, we’re back home.

It’s late at night, around eleven, when Peyton decides to go out. I’m sitting on the couch, flipping through channels on the television. Something brewing inside of me tells me that something bad is waiting to happen.

“I’ll be back soon,” he says. “I’m just going to go out for a little while—just for some air. I need to clear my mind.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” I ask, concerned.

“No, I’ll be okay. I should be back in about an hour, max,” he leans over to kiss me, but something about this kiss is different; it has power in it.

Peyton

I
hate to see her worry about me and I want her to know that I’m fine. I just need some time to myself. I’ve been having these nightmares lately. It’s really been bothering me. I keep seeing myself being forced to leave Taylor, and in the end she’s broken. I know they’re just dreams because I would never leave Taylor, as long as I’m in control of it. Maybe it’s just the anxiety of knowing that I have to leave her for a few months and it’s just not sitting right with me.

It’s beginning to rain heavily by the time I make it to the highway. We don’t get much rain here, but when it rains, it pours. I begin thinking about the rest of my life with Taylor and how many children we’re going to have. I think about what it will be like to be a musician and a father. Truth is, I can’t wait to go on the road so I can come back to Taylor and we can finally get married and work on a family. The family part will probably come later on, but it’s nice to think about it. Just the thought of it makes me smile.

My thoughts are interrupted when I have to swerve around another car. Apparently people don’t know how to drive in the rain. I wonder how some people even manage to get driver’s licenses. I don’t want to get upset thinking about it, so I switch my thoughts back to Taylor. I miss her already. So I decide to get off at the next exit and make my way home.
I belong at home with my wife
.

I’m going to stop being so distant and—

Taylor

I
t’s 3:30 a.m. and Peyton still hasn’t made it home. He said he would only be out for an hour, but that hour passed a little over three hours ago. I’ve tried calling his cell phone but it goes straight to voice mail. I’m beginning to get worried but I make up other excuses in my mind. Maybe he just needed more time; maybe he’s writing a song; maybe he just doesn’t want to come home yet. I can’t sleep because my gut is trying to tell me something; I just don’t know exactly what.

My phone rings. It’s Mason calling, but I’m in no condition to talk on the phone to anyone. I try finishing my novel, but my mind keeps drifting to Peyton. He’s never done this before, and I hope he never does it again. I know something’s wrong with him and I just wish he’d spoken to me instead of going out. The rain is falling angrily, and there’s thunder and lightning. I’ve never liked being alone during a thunderstorm. I need Peyton’s strong arms around me. I need him to make me feel safe.

I can’t wait to marry Peyton. Marrying him will mean more than all of my dreams coming true. He is everything anyone could ever need and want, all wrapped into one man. He has saved me in every way possible, and I can only love him for that. I hate not knowing where he is or how he’s doing. It’s only been four hours but it feels like it’s been an eternity. Peyton and I never go this long without knowing what the other is doing or where the other is.

Ten minutes later, I hear a knock on the door. My heart skips a beat. Peyton never knocks; he has a key. I run to the door and
quickly open it without even asking who it is. It’s Mason; and I know for sure something is wrong.

His eyes are red, as if he’s been crying. He looks pale. I’ve never seen Mason like this and I never want to again. He’s drenched from the rain, but he looks as if that’s the least of his troubles.

“Mason, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” I ask, pulling him into the living room.

“It’s…it’s Peyton,” he says slowly, struggling to say the words.

My heart stops, but I try not to panic. “What about Peyton? Is he okay?” I press my hands to my chest.

My heart begins to race, and tears start welling in my eyes. I am beginning to panic and I don’t even know what’s going on.

Mason just shakes his head. “No,” is the one-word answer he gives me.

“Mason, what happened? Is he in the hospital?” My every response is a different question, all leading up to my first one:
Is he okay
?

“H-he got…into an accident…A truck swerved and hit him directly on the driver’s side,” Mason is continuing to speak slowly, his voice cracking as if he’s going to start crying again.

“But…but…he’s okay though, right? He’s only in the hospital, right, Mason?”

Tears fall from my eyes. I command Mason to tell me that Peyton is okay rather than ask him. Mason just stares at me with pained eyes. I know the answer, but I want him to say it. I need to hear it because I’m not going to believe it any other way.
God wouldn’t do this to me after giving me the world
. Mason has to say it so I can believe it.

“Taylor…he’s dead. It was instant so he didn’t feel any pain…I am so, so sorry.”

I now know what Peyton meant when he said he hated it when people apologized for deaths they had nothing to do with. Sorry is only good if you plan to fix things.
This is unfixable; this is a tragedy
.

“No…no…Please tell me that you’re lying—this isn’t real. This can’t be happening…this didn’t happen,” I’m beginning to break; I’m in denial.

I can no longer hold myself up, so Mason catches me. I cry like a child whose favorite dog just got hit by a car right in front of her. I’m weak and I’ve never felt this way before. Not even when I lost Tyler. My Peyton is gone forever, and I will never see him again. This moment isn’t real; except it’s more real than Peyton’s ring on my finger.

I can’t breathe and I can’t speak. My entire body begins to shake and my hands go cold. I am becoming more dead than Mason claims my Peyton is. Mason has to carry me out of the apartment and rush me to the hospital—possibly the same one where Peyton’s body rests now.