A Tragic Heart

by S. Elle Cameron

  “I’m sorry. What more do you want me to say? What else can I say?” he says in a tortured voice.

  “Nothing. I don’t want you to say anything, and there is nothing you can say to me right now,” I say out of pure hatred.

  “So I guess I should leave then,” he says, without making any eye contact; not even for a second.

  He gets up and looks back at me one more time. And he’s gone.

  ***

  The next day, I decide to speak to the doctors. A social worker comes in once a day to speak with me for about forty minutes to an hour. Today, I don’t tell her much. I even lie at times.

  “Taylor, you have a visitor,” a nurse says when she steps into my room.

  “Okay,” I reply.

  My heart stops when the visitor comes in. I don’t expect it. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do. Should I cry, laugh, or smile? I don’t know; maybe I should be angry, but that’s the last thing I am.

  “How are you?” he says, worry taking over his face.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  “I told you I’d never leave you. I keep my promises, Tay. You should know that by now.”

  I don’t know what I know anymore. But I do know that Jackson is standing in front of me and all I can say is, “What are you doing here?” I decide not to think and let my body take over my actions. I hug him. I hug him tightly and cry on his shoulder.

  “I’ve missed you so much! I’m so sorry I didn’t answer your calls. I’m sorry I made you hate me. I’m sorry I forgot to tell you how much I love you. I’m so sorry, Jackson!” I’m now in full crying mode as I let the words crawl from my tongue.

  “I don’t hate you. I never have and never will. Taylor, you know I love you. When I got the call, I had to cancel my shows in London and Germany for you—that’s how much I love you,” he says, still holding me.

  I can hear in his voice that he’s crying. I’ve never seen or heard Jackson cry. I always thought that he was stronger than that. But I guess he meant it all the times he privately told me that he didn’t know if he could function without me. I start to laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” Jackson says, confused. He lets me go.

  “You blew off London and Germany for me? Are you crazy? Maybe you should be the one here, not me,” I say, laughing through my tears.

  I don’t know what it is about Jackson, but he always makes it all better. I think he truly is the angel who was sent here to save my soul.

  “Of course I did, Tay. I may regret it later, but right now I think you’re worth it,” he says, joking with me.

  “Jackson, I missed you so much!” I say hugging him again.

  “Me too, Tay.”

  He stays for a while—actually, until visiting hours are up. He tells me that Mason told him everything and that he seems really sorry. He also says that he understands and respects my decision about not going back. I ask him how long he’s staying, and he says until I get better; he can always reschedule his shows. He tells me I’m more important and if it means risking his music career, then that’s fine. I, of course, tell him not to be stupid and to go make his fans happy. But he doesn’t listen to me. He would feel too guilty to just leave while I’m still here.

  I begin showing massive improvement over the next few days. I speak to the social worker and I’m told that they just want to keep me for another day or two to make sure that I am ready to leave for good. Peyton calls me and tells me that he’s coming to see me soon. He wanted to before, but he says he wanted to give Mason and Jackson their time with me first. I’m actually pretty excited to see him. I have so many questions to ask. It feels like Peyton and I have been so out of touch that we have to start all over again from the beginning. But I don’t mind starting over. I think it’s good to start over sometimes. I think it’s good for me and Peyton.

  I guess Peyton was on his way when he called me because it seemed he got here in less than ten minutes. As soon as he steps into the room, we hug. He smells really good; it’s a bit intoxicating. And his body feels hard—almost as if he was lifting more weights than usual. His body heat feels great against me, and for a second I forget that he’s Peyton Giordano.

  “How have you been?” he asks as he stops hugging me.

  “I’ve been pretty good. I miss the outside world, but I think I’ve been holding up pretty well. It’s true that you really don’t know what you’re missing until someone takes it away from you.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been there before,” Peyton states, looking into my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Taylor,” he begins. “I didn’t mean—”

  I cut him off.

  “Don’t be sorry. You didn’t do it,” I inform him.

  “But I’m part of the reason why you did it. Look me in the eye and tell me that you didn’t do it because of me. That would make me feel better.”

  I want to make him feel better, but I can’t lie, either. I decide to look down and remain quiet.

  “Exactly,” he says.

  “Don’t feel guilty, Peyton. I don’t want you to. You thought you were doing the best thing, right? At least that’s what you told me when I first got here.”

  There it is. The look I was searching for. He has something to tell me and he doesn’t want to hide it.

  “I have a problem, Taylor,” he says blandly, while looking down.

  “Peyton, we all have problems…I’m in a psych ward, for God’s sake!”

  He laughs a little, and it’s good to see him smile that hypnotizing smile.

  “And I probably belong in here right next to you,” he says, now looking up at me.

  “Peyton, what are you talking about? Just tell me. Don’t beat around the bush; you know I hate that!” I say, feeling anxious.

  “I’m bipolar.” He says it straightforward and swiftly.

  There’s a long pause between us.

  “How do you know? Did you see someone? How long have you known?” The questions are running out so fast I can’t catch them.

  “I’ve been seeing a counselor for a while and I didn’t want anyone to know. I was embarrassed, I guess. That’s why I got so mad last month at the diner when you said I should speak to someone. That and I was off of my meds because I wanted to see if I could be normal without them. I guess it’s clear that I can’t be. But anyway, my counselor referred me to a psychiatrist, and she diagnosed me with bipolar disorder. So I get ticked off pretty easily. That’s why I wanted you away from me. I didn’t want to hurt you anymore,” he says.

  “What about Keely?” I ask, getting angry just at the thought of him with her.

  “Oh, her…I was just using her. She was there and she wouldn’t leave me alone, so I gave her what she wanted. We’re not together anymore. That was bound to not last. She’s not my type at all. Too shallow. And she didn’t get me like you do.”

  I can tell that last part was unintentional. He spoke as if we were a couple and not just friends. I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it. I mean, he’s Peyton—my best friend, my cousin-in-law.

  “I just couldn’t connect with her. She didn’t think about anything that was…well, worth thinking about,” he continued.

  I see that he’s hiding something more from me and I can’t figure it out unless he comes clean. So I do what it makes sense to do. I ask. “What are you hiding from me, Peyton?” I look into his calming eyes.

  He starts with a lie. “Nothing—”

  I cut him off. “Peyton, if you’re going to lie, you might as well just leave,” I say sternly.

  “I’ve been going out and hanging with my family—my dad and sister and brother. I like them.” He gets up and walks over to the window that is unable to open. It’s easy to see that he wanted to avoid eye contact with me. “My dad isn’t a bad person at all. He was just lost and he made some pretty bad decisions. My sister, Hayley, she’s really cool. She’s actually a lot like me. She’s smart, talented, and she loves music like I do. Not to mention she’s good-looking, bu
t that just runs in the family,” he jokes. “My brother, Preston, was a little skeptical about me coming into the family so suddenly, but he’s loosened up. And we’re really cool now.”

  “Peyton, I’m really happy for you,” I say with a smile. “I hope it continues to work out. I knew you’d be happy. You just had to try a little harder and give your dad a chance.”

  “Yeah, I guess you were right. His new wife is really nice, also. She accepted me right away, which I didn’t expect. I guess it’s all starting to work out.”

  “Yeah, I guess it is,” I say slowly.

  He’s still hiding something. I just don’t know what and I want him to be honest with me.

  “Peyton, tell me,” I say, looking down at the cuts on my wrist.

  “Tell you what?” he asks in a perplexed tone.

  “Whatever it is you’re hiding. Tell me. And be honest. I can’t take anymore lies. Just tell me what it is and be 100 percent honest with me,” I beg.

  He’s quiet for a long time, so I speak again.

  “Please, Peyton.”

  “I know you don’t want to hear any lies, but I don’t think you’re ready for the truth. I don’t think it’s a good idea—especially right now and here,” he says, looking around.

  “Just tell me. I hate when you try to hide from me—you know that.”

  “You can’t get mad,” He says, looking more serious than ever.

  He’s starting to scare me. I don’t know what to expect him to say. I don’t know how I’ll react. Will I be angry with him, like he thinks I will be? Will it cause me to fall back into another depression? My thoughts make some part of me not want to know, but I know for sure that he’s hiding something from me, and that’s even worse. Did he get Keely pregnant? Are both of my men officially gone? I become anxious and extremely nervous.

  “I won’t get mad,” I say quickly.

  “You have to promise—since I know you never break your promises.”

  “Okay, I promise!” I say, even more anxious.

  He keeps stalling. “Tell me you’ll continue being my friend after this.”

  “Peyton!” I am a little annoyed that he’s taking so long.

  “I love you.”

  “Peyton, I love you, too! Now just tell me!” I say before realizing what he means. I pause for a while before speaking again. “You do mean as a friend or family member, right Peyton?” I say calmly.

  He’s quiet and looking down. Then he lifts his face and looks into my eyes.

  “No,” he says.

  This isn’t happening. Not now, not here.

  “Taylor, I’m in love with you. I have been since the first day I laid eyes on you—and I know that was years ago and I should’ve told you, but I didn’t know how to approach you. I knew this would happen if we ever actually spoke—that’s why when you asked me to be your best friend, I made you promise not to hurt Mason. I wanted you to be strong enough to accept the fact that I love you without it ruining you and Mason. I know he loves you, too, and I feel so guilty because of it. He’s done so much for me, and I pay him back by falling in love with his wife. I know it’s pretty fucked up right now and I know this isn’t the time or place to tell you, but I guess no place would be the time or place to tell you this. When I thought I lost you, I felt like I lost me. You are my other half, and it’s okay if I’m not yours. I just want us to at least remain friends because I can’t imagine my life without you. You helped me through so much and you are the only one who gets me. And I hate it—I hate it because I know I can’t have you. You made me better, Taylor. Look at me and think back to who I was. You gave me a reason and you showed me that it’s possible to love even when there’s no life left in you. You showed me that love is stronger than life. It’s stronger than heartache. Taylor Caldwell, I am so in love with you and I fear that I always will be.”

  This isn’t a dream, and I wished it were. Peyton is my best friend, and I love him as that: my best friend. How could he do this? How could he love me? Why would he love me? Why now? Why ever? Why would he ruin this?

  “Taylor, say something, please,” he says, touching my hand.

  I look down at his hand and pull mine away slowly. “Get out,” I whisper.

  “What?” he asks.

  “Peyton, leave. Get out! Just leave! You have no reason for being here. Forget me! Forget I exist! I hate you—I hate you so much! Peyton, why? Why? You were my best friend! Why did you have to ruin that?” I am yelling and more hysterical than ever.

  He can’t just tell me that he loves me—not after I’m already married; not when he had years of chances to tell me. He could’ve had me instead of Mason, but he waits until now? He had a million chances.

  “Taylor, calm down, please. The nurses are coming. You promised you wouldn’t get angry,” he says in a worried voice.

  The nurses come in to calm me down and they tell Peyton that he has to leave. I’m crying and I’m not sure why. All I know is that I start fighting the nurses and try to run away. I see Peyton leave and I’m not sure if I’ll ever see him again. I’m not sure if it bothers me, either. Before I know it, a nurse comes in with a needle, and they hold me down as she sticks it into my arm. I instantly became tired and fall unconscious.

  Peyton

  Why did I tell her? I should’ve lied to her. Lying would’ve been the best option in this situation. She wasn’t well enough to hear it. I can’t believe I told her; I can’t believe I officially ended our relationship. I told her I loved her and I meant it. I will always mean it. Maybe I should just give her space—leave her be for a while. Maybe she won’t speak to me again. I sit in my car and a thousand thoughts dance around my head. I decide to drive away and just keep going until I figure something out.

  I decide a bar is the answer. I have a fake ID, so it’s easy. It’s not like I need the ID, anyway. I’m friends with the bartender, and the owner lets my band play there anytime we want. I’m going to get drunk. I’m going to get drunk and then drive home, hoping to get into an accident and die. It’s the perfect plan.

  Taylor

  I broke my promise to Peyton. I told him I wouldn’t get mad and I did. I told him we could still be friends and I’m not sure if we still are. I get to blame myself for this one.

  I was supposed to go home tomorrow but they said they’re going to wait an extra day or so, since I had the breakdown a few hours ago. They also said they referred me to an outside counselor and psychiatrist. I won’t be able to leave unless I agree to go to one.

  I also started thinking about Mason. I think he deserves a second chance. Peyton said that I never break my promises, but I already did today. I don’t want to break another by breaking that promise with Mason. I vowed “for better or for worse.” I am going to keep that promise.

  I get up and ask the nurse if I can make a phone call. She says, “Of course,” and hands me the phone.

  I hear him pick up.

  “Hello?”

  I’m silent for a few seconds.

  “Hello, is anyone there?” I hear him ask.

  “Hey, Mason. It’s me, Taylor.”

  “Oh—hey, how have you been?”

  “Okay, I guess. They said I should be coming home in a few days, so that’s good.”

  There is an awkward silence. A Tragic Heart

  “I don’t think we should quit. I think we should try and fight. Can you come tomorrow so we can talk?” I ask, trying to be quiet so the nurses won’t hear.

  “Y-yeah, sure. I can come. I won’t even go to school tomorrow. I’ll just come straight there,” he says, sounding hopeful and alive.

  “Okay, good. See you tomorrow, then. I love you.” It feels good to say those words again. I think.

  “I love you, too,” he says, before hanging up.

  I hope I am doing the right thing.

  I go back to my room and decide that since there’s nothing else to do, I should just go to sleep. I didn’t want to think anymore. I don’t want to feel anymore today. I ju
st want it all to be over. I lie down and to my dismay, I can’t even close my eyes without a new thought appearing. I think about Peyton and his stupid confession. I think about Mason and our failing marriage. I think about Jackson and how good it felt just to hold him again. And I think about where this all began. I think about Tyler and how he left me. I blamed him and then I took it back because I knew it wasn’t his fault. Somewhere between my thoughts and tears, sleep comes, but my mind won’t rest.

  ***

  The next day when Mason arrives, I’m not sure how I feel. I don’t know if I’m excited to see him or if I’m still angry with him. But I guess that’s normal because I really don’t know much of anything nowadays.

  “Why did you change your mind?” Mason asks as soon as he sits down.

  “I don’t want to break my promise to you,” I reply.

  “But I broke mine to you.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Two wrongs don’t make a right.” At least that’s what they say. I still haven’t figured out if it’s true or not.

  “Well, I guess you’re right. So I guess this means you’re coming back to our place?” he says with a little too much satisfaction in his voice.

  “Yeah, that’s exactly what it means,” I say with too little satisfaction in mine.

  “So when do you get out of here?”

  “Tomorrow morning. I think I need you to pick me up since I don’t have my car with me,” I say in a depressing tone.

  “I can’t. I have a doctor’s appointment to go to.”

  “Oh.” I look down.

  “You can ask Peyton.”

  Peyton. I can’t ask Peyton; but I can’t let Mason know that. He would freak out if he found out the truth.

  “He can’t. I already asked him, and he says he’s busy,” I lie while still looking down. “I guess I can ask Jackson.”

  “Yeah, do that. I’ll just see you when you get home,” He says, now getting up.

  “You’re not going to stay for a little while longer?” I ask with hope in my voice.

  “I can’t. I have things to take care of.”

  Something’s wrong, and he isn’t being honest with me. I don’t ask him what’s really going on because I think I’ve had too many doses of honesty already this week. I watch Mason walk away.