A Tragic Heart (32 page)

“I’m fine. Just a little sore, but other than that I’m okay,” I say truthfully.

“You’re strong. You get that from your mother,” he tells me.

“Dad, can I ask you something?”

I can’t believe how easy it is for me to call him Dad. I never thought I’d get to that place with him.

“Sure, what is it?” His voice is strong and stern; I think I get some of my strength from him also.

“Karson told me some things that really bothered me, and I need the truth. I’m old enough to know now,” I say, trying my best to mimic the strength in his voice.

My father begins to become uncomfortable, but he tries not to let me see it. “What did he tell you?”

“He called Mom out of her name and he says she got what she deserved. He also said that she was secretly seeing you and she kept it from me because you weren’t ready to be in my life. Is it true?” I ask vulnerably. I can’t be as strong as my father just yet.

“Not entirely,” he answers, pausing for a moment. “It is true that she was secretly seeing me, but your mother wasn’t anything less than a lady. She was always classy and carried herself with dignity. That’s what made her so successful. She did keep you from me, but not because I wasn’t ready to be in your life. It was because she didn’t trust that I would stick around and she didn’t want me to break your heart again. I wanted to see you, but she didn’t want to complicate your life any more than she felt she already had by staying with Karson. She was planning to leave for a while. That’s when she was going to finally let me see you. But none of us ever got the chance. I could’ve come looking for you but I wanted to give you your space. And every time I thought it was the right time, my fear stopped me.”

“What were you afraid of?” I ask.

“I was scared that it was too late and that you hated me. I knew you wouldn’t want to see me or talk to me, so I kept putting our meeting off. But none of it matters anymore. We’re here now and we found each other.”

My dad seems genuine, and I believe every word he says.

“Why didn’t you tell me this as soon as you met me again?” I can’t stop the questions from flowing.

“I didn’t want you to think any less of your mother. I wanted to keep the heroic image you had of her in your head,” he confesses.

“But I don’t think any less of her now,” I inform him.

“And that’s good, because you shouldn’t. No matter what she did, it doesn’t change the fact that she was your mother and she was the one who raised you to be the man you are today.”

He thinks of me as a man
. I didn’t get the chance to grow up with my father like most boys did, but it is the greatest feeling to hear that my father considers me a man. I knew that I’d done well and I was at peace with it all after hearing him say that.

Taylor walks through the door not knowing that my dad is still here. My dad and I turn toward her. I can tell she wasn’t expecting this.

“Sorry, I’ll just come back later,” she says.

“No!” I stop her from walking away. “I want you to meet my dad…Dad, this is Taylor, the girl I told you about.”

She walks up to him and shakes his hand.

“We’re getting married. I don’t know when yet, but it’s already official,” I say, happy to let him know that I really did grow to be a man.

He looks at her hand and notices the giant ring on her finger.

“Congratulations to both of you,” he says, looking at us. “And Peyton, she’s beautiful. You did well for yourself.”

My life is complete. I have the girl of my dreams. My best friend/cousin is back in my life. I have a dad who is proud of me. My dreams are being pieced together one by one.
If I die right now, at least I would die a happy man, knowing that I have everything I could ask for
.

Taylor stays. She and my dad talk for a while, getting to know each other. He seems to love her, and that puts me more at ease. Mason walks in not too long after, and the world is happy.

Taylor

W
e arrived at Perth International Airport in Western Australia. I love this place. Being with both Mason and Peyton makes it even more beautiful. Peyton is still hurt from the stabbing but he is being strong and keeping up perfectly well. Of course, Mason and I don’t allow him to carry anything heavy, even though he tries to convince us that he’s okay. He always tries to be strong, even when he knows he’s weak.

We reach Peyton’s house, which he hasn’t seen since he was twelve years old. It’s beautiful and it’s on the beach. He open the door for Mason and me, and we all walk in, amazed by what we see. The house is huge and orderly. There are some old pictures of his mom; I’m stunned by her beauty and suddenly feel a pain in my heart since I never got the chance to meet her. She looks compassionate and welcoming. Peyton has her hair color and her eyes. I come across a picture of Peyton as a baby and I pick it up and laugh. Embarrassed, he snatches it from my hand and laughs a little himself.

“You look the same,” I say, smiling at the picture.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” he jokes and puts the picture down.

“I can’t believe you lived here before,” I say, looking around and admiring the home.

“Let’s go upstairs so I can show you guys the rooms,” Peyton says.

We follow him up the stairs. Peyton moves slowly, since he’s still hurting from his “accident.”

“You shouldn’t be climbing stairs so freely,” Mason tells him.

“I’m fine,” Peyton shoots back.

Mason and I just look at each other, knowing that Peyton would never admit that he’s hurting. We tour every room in the house, each one more magnificent than the last.

“We should stay in here!” I shout to Peyton.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It’s my mom’s old room.”

“So? We can play husband and wife,” I say.

“You really want to stay in here?” Peyton asks, still not happy with my idea.

“Yeah, it’s beautiful in here,” I say, admiring the furniture and the overall vibe of the room.

“Okay…If that’s what you want,” he says slowly.

“You mean it?”

“Yeah, if you want to, then I want to.”

***

That night Mason went food shopping for the house, and I cooked for everyone. We laughed and watched old and new movies together. It was the quality time that we all needed with each other. Maybe I was wrong; maybe lost time can be retrieved; at least, it felt like it.

“Mason, I have a question to ask you, and you can decline if you’d like,” Peyton says to Mason, who’s sitting across from us.

“Okay, what is it?” Mason asks.

“I want you to be my best man,” Peyton says.

“That wasn’t a question at all,” Mason says, laughing.

“Will you, be my best man, Mason Taylor?” Peyton corrects himself.

“I’d love to be your best man, Peyton Giordano.”

“Great! Now that that proposal is over and done with, can we get on with the movie?” I ask, fabricating my annoyance.

Mason throws popcorn at me, and before I know it we’re play-wrestling on the floor. Since Peyton can’t join in for obvious
reasons, he just sits back and laughs at us acting like two seven-year-olds on the playground. After about five minutes, Mason gives up and I pin him down, taking the win.

“Why are you so strong for a girl?” Mason asks, still out of breath and on the floor.

“Because I’m half man,” I joke.

“Well, you should let Peyton know that,” Mason says, laughing and looking at Peyton.

“Man or not, I’m still marrying her,” Peyton says, playing along.

“Now that’s love!” Mason proclaims.

It amazes me at how cool Mason is with this entire transition. It seems like just yesterday that he didn’t even care if Peyton and I were dead, and today he’s our best friend. I don’t care, as long as we are where we are today.
I hope we can stay this way forever.

Peyton gets up and comes back into the room with three bottles of wine. There’s one for each of us.

“My mom was saving these for our next trip here. Sadly, she never made it. But we did, so let’s get drunk, shall we?” Peyton hands bottles to Mason and me.

“Peyton, you shouldn’t mix alcohol with your painkillers,” I say, playing mother.

“I didn’t take any yet, and I won’t. Now let’s not kill the moment. Let’s drink!”

With that said, we pop open one bottle after another, and before midnight hits, we’re all drunk.

“I’ve never seen you drunk before,” Mason says to me, slurring his words.

“You haven’t seen me do a lot of things,” I inform him with speech just as messy.

Peyton adds his two cents. “Neither one of you can hang.”

“What are you talking about, Peyton? You’re drunk too,” I say slowly.

“Not as much as you two,” he quickly shoots back.

“Oooh…Let’s have a sleepover!” I shout, jumping off the couch and then falling back down.

“Sleepovers are for girls!” Mason yells.

“No they’re not! And I never had one before, so you two should have a sleepover with me—pleeeaaassseee!” I beg like a five-year-old.

“Fine, Taylor. We will have a sleepover with you!” Peyton says in a voice that sounds drained.

“YAAAAY!” I’m so drunk that I’m beyond excited. “Let’s play a truth game. It’s kind of like truth or dare, but it’s only truth—no dare,” I say, talking over my own words. “We each have to go around and say something about ourselves that the others never knew!”

This is either going to be fun or a disaster; I hope for the first one.

“I’ll go first!” Peyton shouts, taking first dibs.

“Okay, go ahead,” Mason says, taking another sip of wine.

“I had sex with Lauren—it was before you and her, Mason, so you can’t get mad. She was a groupie who used to come listen to my band play.”

The room is quiet for a few seconds, and then Mason bursts into laughter.

“Wow, so I guess that’s just another girl we shared,” Mason says, still laughing.

I feel cheap, but I try not to let it bother me. What Peyton and I have is real.

“My turn!” Mason announces. “I had sex with Adalyn—twice!”

Again, the room is silent. But this time, no laughter follows.

“You what?” Peyton says, almost choking on his wine.

“It was right after you guys broke up. She came by looking for you, and you weren’t there. One thing led to another, and she was in my room. Sorry, man,” Mason says nonchalantly.

Peyton sighs and then finally says, “Oh well, she’s old news now. I have something twenty times beter!”

All I can do is look at him and smile. They say the truth comes out when you’re drunk, and Peyton still loves me just as much as he does when he’s sober; that’s a relief.

“Your turn!” Mason says, looking at me.

I have to think long and hard. Peyton and Mason basically know everything about me already. There isn’t much to tell. They know
I had a bitch for a mom, a workaholic for a dad, and I’ve only had sex with them, as bad as it may sound. I finally find something that I can confess. It isn’t as interesting as having sex with someone my cousin used to date, but it’s the truth, and that’s the whole point of the game.

“I’m intimidated by Adalyn,” I say, looking at Peyton.

Once again the room falls silent, and I begin feeling uncomfortable.

“Why?” Peyton asks.

“Because she’s absolutely gorgeous in every way possible, and you were madly in love with her. Not to mention you two still play in the same band and stay in hotel rooms in New York City together. How am I supposed to feel?” I say, giving him more of a confession than he bargained for.

“Babe, you have nothing to worry about. I love you and I will
never
hurt you, I promise. And you can hold me to that. Adalyn is just a friend, and I don’t see her as anything more than that. We were in love, but that’s over with now. It has been for a while. Sometimes I even forget that we ever dated,” Peyton says, trying to persuade me not to worry.

“Taylor, you should listen to him. He and Adalyn are over. Peyton loves you, and even I can see that. So you have nothing to worry about. Peyton isn’t me,” Mason says, siding with Peyton.

“How do I know she doesn’t still have feelings for you?” I ask, still not convinced.

“You don’t, and neither do I. But you have to trust me. I will never allow her to come on to me or say anything inappropriate to me without telling you,” Peyton continues.

“Plus, I gave it to her after Peyton did, so chances are she’s already forgotten about him!” Mason is trying to break the ice; and it works.

Peyton just looks at him, and I laugh. This night was definitely needed. We continue playing the game for a little while before we decide to go to bed. Mason goes up to his room, and Peyton and I go up to his mother’s old room. I have to help him up the stairs since he’s in minor pain and he’s a little drunk. I am too, but I don’t have the pain to go with it.

I put on one of Peyton’s T-shirts and crawl into bed next to him. I think he’s asleep until he says something to me. “I can’t believe you’re intimidated by Adalyn after all the times I’ve confessed my love for you,” he says, now turning over to face me.

“Yeah, but you can’t blame a girl. She looks like a supermodel, and I look like me!” I begin raising my voice.

“Taylor, you’re beautiful! And I wish you could see what I see, because if you did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now!” Peyton’s getting annoyed. I hear it in his voice.

“But Peyton—”

“Don’t ‘but Peyton’ me! I do all that I can to show you how much I love you, and you go and doubt me. That’s like a fucking slap in the face, Taylor!”

He’s beginning to raise his voice, and I’m becoming uncomfortable.

I hate it when Peyton and I fight. I always feel awkward when he curses at me, since he hardly ever does. He calms down a little and continues.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to curse at you. It just hurts that you don’t trust me. I’ve told you and proved to you over and over how much you mean to me. Taylor, I love you, and no one or nothing is ever going to change that.”

“You’re right and you have every reason to be upset. I shouldn’t doubt you, not after everything you’ve done for me. I’m sorry, Peyton, I love you too and I know you wouldn’t hurt me, but it’s just seeing her and seeing me—we’re two different people,” I say, trying my best to explain how I feel.