A Tragic Heart (13 page)

“Do not bring Peyton into this! This has nothing to do with him! This has to do with you and your lying ass! When I wanted you near me, you always pushed me away and told me some story about work. You’re the liar, Mason! I was only with Peyton because he was the only one who made me feel like I mattered—because you obviously didn’t do a good job at that! But I know one thing you are good at: fuc–”

He cuts me off with a slap to the face.

I begin breathing heavily and tearing up.
Mason hit me
.
He hit me
. I’m not sure how to respond. I just hold my face and walk passed him, avoiding eye contact. I go into the bathroom and look in the mirror.
No serious damage
.
Just a red face and a broken heart
.

When I come out of the bathroom, Mason is gone. He walked away—
again
.

Mason

I
hit her
. I didn’t mean to. She was just saying too much, and I needed to shut her up. She was right for the most part, but I’m not ready to hear the truth just yet. I want to fix this, but every time I turn around, the circumstances are worse; and it’s because of me. I want to speak to someone, but I have no one to go to. I can’t reach Peyton; it’s like he’s ignoring all of my calls. My mom would yell, and my dad would kill me for even thinking about putting my hands on a woman. Jagger can’t keep a secret and…

***

I pull up to her house. She’s the only one who’ll speak to me. I know it’s probably not the smartest thing to do, but I need to talk to someone. I get out of the car and ring her doorbell. She answers with a surprised look on her face. I can tell she isn’t expecting to see me. If I were her, I wouldn’t be expecting to see me either.

“Mason? What are you doing here?” she asks, as if she’s happy that I’m standing in front of her.

“I just wanted to talk.” I am straightforward.

“Okay, come in,” she says, moving out of the way so I can walk in. “You know, my parents aren’t home,” she says, stroking my arm.

When is this girl going to get it? I’m not her boyfriend; she was just there and easy. I ignore her statement and go upstairs with her to her room.

“So, what’s bothering you?” she asks, as she closes her bedroom door and places her arms around my neck.

“Taylor,” I say. “I hit her today and I didn’t mean it, it just happened.”

“Well, maybe you should leave her. I mean, I can tell you’re not the kind of a guy who would hit a woman unless she was provoking you. You don’t need to be with someone who agitates you that much. She can get you into a lot of trouble, Mason. I’m not saying this to be a bitch or anything—it’s just that I think you’re a great guy and you don’t deserve that kind of treatment. You’re not happy, and I can tell.”

She has a point. I know what Taylor said was true, but I have to admit she did provoke me. I did tell her a number of times to stop, but she kept on going. Even so, I can’t leave Taylor. But like Lauren said, I’m not happy. I can’t argue with that.

“I can’t leave Taylor. She’s been there for me this whole time—she still hasn’t left, so I guess that means we need to just work it out.” I know it must be weird for Lauren to hear this, but it’s the truth.

“Mason, sometimes we hold onto things we know are already gone. Now, I’m not saying you and Taylor shouldn’t try, but I don’t know if it’s even worth fighting for. You both are young and you have your entire lives ahead of you. You made a vow to each other that most thirty-year-olds can’t keep anymore. It’s okay if you don’t make it to the end. Maybe for you two, half time is the end of the game,” she says, touching my chest softly.

I don’t know if she’s being genuine, or if she just wants me all to herself. All I know is that I like what she’s saying, and she could very well be correct about it all. Maybe Taylor and I are done. Maybe we moved too fast. I thought we could be one of those high school couples who got married young and are still going strong thirty-five years later.

“I don’t know, Lauren. I don’t think I can go back there tonight. I’m not sure if she even wants me there with her. I just need some time to think. Maybe I should just stay the night at my parents’ house or at Peyton’s,” I say, thinking aloud.

“No. Then your parents would want to know what happened, and you’d be forced to tell them the truth. And Peyton probably already knows too much about your relationship. He doesn’t need to know anymore.”

Once again, she’s right. I tell her that Taylor and Peyton spent a lot of time together. Thinking back, that probably was a big mistake, but it seems that lately all I make are mistakes.

“You can stay here tonight, Mason,” she suggests. “My parents won’t mind. They went away for the weekend.”

“I don’t know if that’s smart or appropriate,” I state.

“It shouldn’t matter—I’m already having your child, and you don’t have to sleep in the same room as I do. Unless you want to.”

I’m going to regret this in the morning
. Lauren is like a drunken night out on the town—fun at first, but the next morning, you’re hunched over a porcelain seat, spilling your guts out.

“Okay. I’ll stay.”

It’s clear. Taylor can’t leave me…but I can leave Taylor.
I can’t help it if I’m selfish
.

Taylor

M
ason hit me
. That’s all I can think about. I can’t even fathom what would make him do that. I don’t understand how he could change in so little time. I have no tears left to cry. I am so hurt I can’t feel anymore. I just sit up, waiting for Mason to get home. We have to talk—not argue—but talk. We are going down, and I need to find the switch to bring us back to the top. I can’t do that without him. It’s two in the morning, and he still hasn’t come home. I tried calling him but his voicemail just comes on.

He isn’t trying. He wants me to stay, but he’s not trying. I understand he has a lot to deal with right now, but I kind of need him to try. I need him to give me a reason to stay. I need him to not make me regret my decision. I need him to help me keep my promise to him, but he’s making it so hard.

I fall asleep at around five in the morning. My body is too tired to wait up for Mason any longer. I just pray that he is okay and that our relationship will work out for the best. I’m willing to fight for us; he just needs to give me a reason to fight—and not coming home isn’t a good reason at all.

I wake up at 2:15 p.m. I guess I was really tired. I did have a hard first day home. I immediately take a shower. I hate waking up this late; it makes me feel like my entire day is gone. After the shower, I walk into the kitchen to get something to eat, only to see Mason already looking in the refrigerator. I don’t know what to say or do, so I let my body decide to turn around and walk away.

“Taylor, don’t walk away!” he says.

I turn around and just look at him. No expression. No sign of any feeling. I just look at him.

“I don’t have
anything
to say to you,” I say, discovering that I am even angrier than I was yesterday.

“Well, then just let me talk. I didn’t—”

I stop him
. “Mean it! Is that what you were going to say, Mason? That you didn’t mean it? I know you didn’t mean it, Mason! You NEVER mean it! Just like you didn’t mean to knock Lauren up. Or you didn’t mean to cheat on me, or lie to me, or—”

He cuts me off. “Taylor, stop it! That’s what made me hit you before; stop provoking me for at least a second!” he shouts.

He didn’t just say that I was provoking him, did he? He didn’t just justify hitting me, did he?
Who is this person
? “Wow. You’re blaming me for you hitting me. Unbelievable, Mason. You ask me to stay and you say that you’re sorry. You didn’t even come home last night, Mason! You didn’t want to talk about it then, so why should I listen to any shit you have to say?” I feel like I’m in a state of shock. “Mason, where were you last night?” I ask, already having an idea of what his answer will be.
Lauren
.

“Taylor, can we just—”

“No! Tell me where you were, Mason. And please, no more lying! God knows I cannot take anymore lies from you,” I say, feeling worn out.

“At Lauren’s. I swear nothing happened. I just needed somewhere to stay,” he confesses, as if that will make it all better.

“How about our place?” I say, walking away.

I have no time for Mason. I don’t want to hear anymore. I still love him—
I think
; but that isn’t enough for right now. I sit down on the living room couch with my head in my hands. I feel him sit next to me and touch my back.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

I take my hands away from my face. “You’ve been saying that phrase a lot lately, Mason, but I don’t feel any sorrow coming from you. I don’t see where you mean it. I don’t believe you mean it just yet. So before you say it again, make sure you really mean it
because I don’t think I can take hearing another ‘I’m sorry’ from you.”

He touches my face—the side he slapped me on. “I’m going to make this better, I promise.” He caresses my cheek.

“Don’t promise. Just try,” I whisper. Then I get up and walk away.

***

Monday morning. I have to go back. I know there will be stares and whispers, but I don’t care.
They can all go fuck themselves for all I care
. I walk into school with my head held high. I am not going to let them think the best of me was taken. They aren’t going to know that I am hurting and that I am living on my last ounce of sanity. I’m not going to show it; and they aren’t going to know. I sit in all my classes attentively and do my work. I pay the gossipers no mind; I won’t give them that kind of satisfaction. I am stronger than that and I feel it is about time people start realizing that.

I sit at lunch alone. I see Peyton, who was sitting with Jagger, and I notice him stare at me a few times. I pay him no mind and continue reading my book. I’m reading
A Prologue to Love
by Taylor Caldwell—the British author, not me.

“There can be help. There’s always God,” said Amy. “I’m ashamed. I’d forgotten about Him.” She was quiet for a time. When she lifted her head she looked older and resolute. “Don’t blame yourself too much, Cousin Caroline,” she says. “That’s as bad as taking no blame at all. I’m not going to blame everything on Ames; I was a little fool myself. I was old enough to know that things aren’t simple.”

That quote from the novel hits me harder than two tons of bricks. It describes me well. God. I forgot about him entirely. I forgot he ever existed. This whole time I’ve been trying to fix things myself and I forgot that God is there to help. I feel foolish, just like the girl in the book does. That last quote, “
I was old enough to know that things aren’t simple
,” depicts me perfectly. I know
life is hard. Somehow I forgot that when I agreed to marry Mason on my seventeenth birthday. I can’t blame Mason for everything. I was old enough to know what I was getting myself into. I should’ve known that being around Peyton so much would cause one of us to catch feelings for the other; I just didn’t think it would be Peyton.

Someone sits across from me, but my eyes are glued to the page. “Can I help you?” I ask whoever it is without looking up.

“Yeah, you can. We have to come up with some form of agreement.”
It was a girl
.

I look up to see Lauren sitting across from me. She must be insane.

“We don’t have to do anything,” I say giving her a hateful look. You know the old saying, “If looks could kill”? Well, let’s just say that she would’ve been slaughtered.

“Yeah, we do. Since, you know, we have to share Mason now.” She says it as if this is a negotiation.

“We’re not sharing Mason. He’s going to father his child and stay away from you. It’s that simple,” I say, ready to kick her so hard in the stomach that her fetus will fly out of her throat.

“Oh. Is that the reason he stayed the night at my house on Friday? I guess he was really staying away from me, huh?” She’s trying to get a rise out of me. She’s trying to hurt me, but I won’t let her see that she’s gotten to me.

“You know what? You can have him. You want him, right? You can have him and all of his baggage—but don’t come crying to me when all he can do is think about me and talk about how much he loves me. Because then he’ll be all yours, and I will have moved on.” I stare hatefully into her eyes. I have to hand it to her: for a blonde-haired cheerleader, she isn’t easy to intimidate. It must be all that aggression they always cheer about.

“I can see why Mason hit you. If I wasn’t pregnant with his baby, I would, too.”

He told her
. He told her
our
business. How dare he?
I am through
. I’ve taken so much from Mason Taylor in these past few weeks that I could write a novel about it. I am ready to hit her. I get up so fast my chair tips over. I am ready to hit her and stomp on her stomach until she vomits her unborn child. So much for letting
them not see me break. I feel someone grab my arm and I’m thankful for that. I don’t think I can handle jail right now.

“Walk away,” he whispers in my ear.

It’s Peyton. He probably was watching the entire time. I turn around to look at him, but he doesn’t bother to acknowledge me. I guess he’s still practicing forgetting that I exist. I do as he says and walk away.

***

I continue the rest of the day with my head held high, as if nothing is wrong. When I get home, it’s a different story. I cry and throw things. Mostly Mason’s things. I still can’t believe he told Lauren our business. I never even told Peyton our business; I haven’t told anyone. I’m waiting for Mason to get home so I can let him have it. We no longer take the same vehicle to school. I drive my car and he drives his. That way he can have the freedom he obviously wants. I’m not going to be nice anymore. He is losing me, and I want to show him just how much.

About an hour later, Mason walks through the doorway. I’m standing there, waiting for him, with my arms crossed. “You told her,” I say, not giving him a lead in this argument.

“What are you talking about now, Taylor?”

“Lauren. You told her you hit me. You told her our business,” I say, with my arms still crossed and my voice still calm.