A Tragic Heart (17 page)

“PEYTON!” I yell.

He turns around and looks at me like I’m insane. I finally reach him, out of breath and tired.

“Uh—can I help you with something?” he says, still looking at me as if I’m a complete weirdo.

“Yeah. Don’t look at me like that!” I say.

“Anything else?” he asks.

“Can you please go shopping with me? Like to the mall?” I say, putting on my baby face.

“Shopping? I don’t do shopping—especially with girls. You know this already.”

“I know, but Peyton, Mason was supposed to come with me but now he’s stuck meeting Lauren’s parents for the first time, and you know I don’t like to shop alone. Or shop, period, for that matter! Come on. You’re my best friend!” I say, trying to guilt him into it.

“Uhhhh…okay, fine. Get in,” he says.

I walk to the other side of the car and get in. “Thank you so much, Peyton,” I say out of relief.

“Uh-huh. What are you going shopping for, anyway?” he asks, pulling out of his parking space.

“Mason and my trip next month,” I say nonchalantly.

“Trip? What trip? And next month? Did you forget about school?” He asks a million and one questions.

“Our trip to Australia—and no, I didn’t forget about school. It’s only for about two weeks. It’s no big deal,” I say in the same tone.

“I’m going to have to learn to live without you for two whole weeks. That’s going to be an obstacle for me,” Peyton says, a little sarcastically.

“Hey, no need to start being a jackass,” I say, noticing his sudden change of character.

He sighs and says, “I’m sorry, Taylor. It’s just something that I’ll have to deal with—you being away for so long.”

“Peyton Hale Giordano, are you trying to tell me that you’re going to miss me? And did you notice that your middle name is similar to Mason’s?” I ask, adding the last part aimlessly.

“I
may
be trying to say that I’m going to miss you, and yes, Mason’s middle name and mine are close because our moms planned it that way. Cheesy, I know. They just got along very well for sisters-in-law,” he says, answering both questions. “By the way, you should visit my house in Australia.”

“House? Peyton, you don’t have a house in Australia.”

“I do too! I haven’t visited it since I was about twelve, but it’s the place where I grew up until I was about five. It’s paid for and all and it legally belongs to me since my mom died,” he informs me.

I’m at a loss for words. He’s never told me this, and neither has Mason. “Peyton, how come you never told me you’ve been to Australia and actually lived there?” I ask in disbelief.

“Because it’s not a very important part of my past. I only lived there because my mom studied medicine and did some pretty amazing surgeries there. We left when she and my dad’s marriage started going bad. I guess they felt like moving back to the United States would help their relationship.”

I just look at him in astonishment. I wonder how many more stories he’s kept from me. “But you were born here in the United States, right?”

“Actually, no,” he says, scratching his chin. “I was born Down Under. I could’ve sworn I told you this before.” He flashes a smile at me.

“Well, you obviously didn’t,” I say, staring out of the window.

“Well, maybe I can make it up to you,” Peyton says in a flirtatious voice.

I look at him and roll my eyes.

“What?” he asks, still smiling.

“No flirting,” I say.

***

We’re walking around a store in the mall, looking at clothes.

“What do you think about this one,” I say, holding the outfit up to my body.

“I think you’d look better naked,” he says, once again breaking his own rule.

“Seriously, Peyton! And stop the flirting,” I say, frustrated.

“Okay, okay. I like it. I feel it’s a little too sexy and revealing, but it’s what you want to wear!”

This whole shopping thing is really bothering Peyton. I think it’s cute that he’s getting a little annoyed. But at the same time, I hate it because it makes me want him more.

“The whole point is to be sexy. I’m going to Australia, where the weather is hot and so are the men. Oh yeah, and for Mason’s eyes,” I tease, smiling.

“Hmmm, so you think Australian men are hot, huh,” he asks, coming closer to me.

“You’re not even really Australian,” I say, moving back, “you don’t even have an accent.”

Peyton is now face to face with me, and I’m becoming really uncomfortable—in a good way, I think.

“I don’t need one. Apparently, I’m turning you on without one,” he replies.

He’s right and I can’t stand him for that. He gently kisses me, and I kiss him back before realizing what I’m doing. I quickly pull back and kindly push him away from me. “Peyton, what is wrong with you? Anyone could’ve seen us! Our plan is to NOT get caught,” I say, barely audibly.

“I know, I know. But I couldn’t help it.”

I see him looking back at the fitting rooms. I know what’s on his mind.
I can’t
. “Peyton, the answer is no! Do not even think about it. The fitting rooms are for trying on clothes only.”

All he’s able to do is laugh because he knows I read his mind perfectly. I just shake my head and walk away from him for a while. He needs some time away from me, and I can use the same.

I’m pretty quick with the shopping, since I hate it. That’s another way I’m different than other women: I hate to shop. It’s dreary and boring. I would much rather be writing a novel or making up a new song. I don’t know; that’s just me. I’ve always felt like working on intellect was more important than how well you dress. But again, that’s just me; and I’m not the easiest girl to understand.

I meet up with Peyton at the mall’s main entrance. I give him my bags, and we walk to the car. He puts my shopping bags in the trunk while I wait for him in the front seat. He finally gets in, and we drive off.

“Come to my place,” I finally say, to break the silence between us. “It’s only 5:30 and Mason isn’t home yet. We can just hang out there for a while.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, sounding almost convinced that this is a bad idea.

“Yeah, I don’t feel like being lonely today. Besides, it’s not for long anyway, since Mason and I have a therapy appointment at eight o’ clock.”

We drive the rest of the way in silence. I don’t know why; maybe neither of us has anything to say. Or maybe something’s wrong with Peyton. I think that might be it. Peyton parks the car in front of my apartment, then gets out and closes the door. He doesn’t help me out of the car like he usually does. I try to figure out what changed between the mall and now. I come up with nothing.

I unlock the door and Peyton and I walk into an empty apartment. I close the door behind us, and we go straight into the living room and put on some music. Peyton still hasn’t spoken and it’s really bothering me. “What’s wrong with you?” I ask in frustration.

“Nothing. Why do you ask?” he says, trying to cover up whatever it is that’s bothering him.

“Peyton, don’t do this. I
can’t
do this. When Mason shuts down, you open up; and when you shut down, Mason opens up. I don’t understand,” I say bluntly.

“You want to work it out with him. You still want him but you claim to love me—and that’s clear. Taylor, answer me honestly. Look me in the eyes and tell me what you want. Who do you want?”

I wasn’t expecting this question from Peyton.

It’s hard to answer, so I just sit next to him and think about it for a few moments. I finally come out with my honest answer. “
You
. I want you, Peyton.” I pause for a few seconds and begin twisting my wedding ring on my finger. “You’re right, I do still try with Mason, but I think that’s because I want us to end up as friends. I still may have some type of feelings for him—but you can’t blame me for that because he
is
still my husband. There is a part of me that still wonders what if things get better.” I look at Peyton who is repositioning himself in his seat. His body language tells me that he’s beginning to feel uncomfortable. “But at the end of my thought—at the end of all my thoughts—you’re there, Peyton. That’s how I know that I love you and I want you. You know the plan with Mason—you thought of it. So you know that I have to try, especially now because he’s trying and I don’t want to come out the bad guy in this situation. Even though I already know I am. Peyton, I love Mason. But I’m
in
love with you—and you have shown me there’s a vast difference.” The words come out like poetry.

He moved in closer and he kissed me. I let him even though I knew this was breaking the rules. But I guess the saying is true. Rules are meant to be broken.

We make out for a while until Peyton stops it. He stands up and begins to walk away without saying anything. This scares me because once again I don’t know what Peyton is feeling. And I hate when I can’t figure out what Peyton’s feeling. “Is…everything okay?” I ask while fixing my clothes.

“Uh…yeah…yeah. I just think I should go now. It’s already seven and Mason should be home soon. I wouldn’t want to get in your way,” he says, slowly walking to the door.

“Peyton, stop this now!” I say solemnly.

“Stop what?”

“You know what, Peyton! You keep switching moods and I can’t take it anymore. I don’t want you to make this more complicated than it has to be.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just that I can’t do that in your place—in Mason’s place. What we’re doing is bad enough, but we could at least have the decency not to do it here. I’m going to go now and I’ll see you tomorrow. Good luck with your therapy,” he says, sounding burned out.

He is right again. We should’ve had enough respect to not touch each other in Mason’s home. Thinking about it really makes me feel like a slut and I hate that feeling. I also hate the feeling of being used by two men who are related to one another. Even though I don’t believe Peyton is using me, it still feels degrading since I’m basically not committed to either one of them. Nowadays, the ring on my finger doesn’t have much meaning.

***

Mason must have pulled up while Peyton was leaving because he walks through the doorway about a minute after Peyton left. I have to fix my face so he won’t know that something was bothering me. I don’t understand how people can have affairs and enjoy it. It’s just too much work.

“Peyton just left?” he asks, kissing me on the cheek.

“Yeah, he kept me company for a while. How did it go?” I ask, referring to his meeting with Lauren’s parents.

“It was okay, actually. They weren’t thrilled about it, of course, but it went better than I expected. I don’t think her dad likes me too much, but that was expected.”

“Do they know that you are married?” I ask.

“Yeah, they saw the ring on my finger. That’s what made them ask. Of course, that disappointed them, but I couldn’t care less about what they think. I’m not married to their daughter and I don’t plan on marrying her,” he says, sitting next to me.

“Well, that’s nice to know,” I say, trying to make it come off as a joke.

Mason and I talk about our days for a while before heading to our first counseling session. He wants to see what I bought at the mall, but I tell him that he’ll just have to wait and see when we’re on the trip. On the drive to Kate’s office, there isn’t a silent moment in the car.

“How come you never told me that Peyton was from Australia?” I ask, staring at his perfect face.

“Because I never thought to. It wasn’t really one of those things that stuck out about Peyton. He has other things worth thinking about in his life. Besides, he doesn’t even have an accent.”

I laugh because that was exactly what I said to Peyton in the mall before we kissed.
We kissed
. That just brings up guilty memories. Sometimes I don’t know if I’m angry with Mason for cheating or I’m angrier with myself for doing the same thing—but with his cousin.

We got to Kate’s office by seven fifty, and by seven fifty-eight, she had us sitting in her room. I can tell that Mason is slightly uncomfortable, but just his presence here is enough for me.

“So, Taylor, I see you picked one that’s pretty easy on the eyes,” Kate says in a teasing manner, which makes Mason smile his gorgeous, dimpled smile.

“Yeah, that’s one reason why I married him,” I say, teasing back.

After the small talk, we shift to a deeper conversation. This is the part I’ve been waiting for.

“So Mason, where do you think you and Taylor stand right now as a couple?” Kate asks.

“Honestly, I really don’t know. I mean, there are some days when everything’s fine—or at least, it seems fine; and then there are other days when nothing seems right. We don’t even seem like we’re right for each other.”

It hurts to hear him say that, but it is the truth. I don’t think I could have put it better.

“Taylor, the same question for you,” Kate says, now looking at me.

“I think Mason said it all, basically. It just seems like there are times that we shouldn’t be together. And I hate that feeling, because just the thought of having a failing marriage bothers me.
I never wanted to be
that
person. That woman who’s been married more than once and people look down on. I know that’s a terrible thing to think, let alone say, but it’s the truth,” I say, grabbing Mason’s hand for support.

“What I want you both to understand is that all couples feel that way at times. Like they’re not good enough for each other, or their relationship was just years of mistakes. But it’s not true most of the time. Do you know how many people separate from the love of their life because a few bad times show up all at once? I really would love for you two to stick it out. I would love to see you two as the high-school lovers who decided to marry young and someday, seventy years from now, are sitting on the porch reminiscing about when you first met. I love to encourage my patients to conquer society’s assumptions. You both just have to understand that it will not be easy. When one problem comes up, more than likely a million more will follow.”

That’s what I love about Kate. She actually counsels. She’s not like most psychologists, who only ask questions and say “uh-huh” and “I see.” She actually gives real advice. Advice that makes you want to keep striving for whatever it is you aimed for in the first place. This is only my second time seeing her, but I have already fallen in love with her tactics.