A Tragic Heart

by S. Elle Cameron

  When I call after him, he turns around. “What now Taylor?” he says, exasperated.

  “Oh. Nothing. It can wait,” I say, trying to force a smirk so he won’t be able to see that he hurt my feelings. He continues to walk away, and I watch. I had nothing important to tell him anyway; just that he forgot to give his loving wife a kiss good-bye, but I guess that doesn’t matter. Although, it would’ve been nice.

  Mason

  I didn’t mean to be so rude to Taylor; it’s just that I’ve been under a lot of stress lately. With her being hospitalized and the baby on the way, it’s just too much for a seventeen-year-old to handle. I swear I’m going to make it all up to her. I promise; and that’s a promise that I’ll keep. She deserves much better than what I’m putting out. I don’t know what really changed her mind about leaving, but whatever it is, I have to remember to thank it. I can’t have Taylor leave—not now, not ever. I want to do something really nice for her once this is all over, and she and I learn to live with these new changes.

  My cell phone rings, and I check the screen to see who’s calling. It’s her. I don’t want to speak to her right now. She is the reason why I’m in this mess. It was her fault; she knew I was married and she still went after me. She could decide to get an abortion, but instead she wants to keep the baby to make my life even more of a living hell. So I don’t want to speak to her. But I’ll have to eventually, and that’s what kills me.

  Peyton

  I didn’t die. I didn’t even get into an accident. But my life is still in ruins. I’m still half drunk in my apartment with a knife in my hand. I think about it. Doing what Taylor did. And I hope I would be successful at it. But instead, I just re-carved the words, “FUCK UP,” in my arm by tracing over the previous job. That’s what I am…a fuckup. I fucked up me and Taylor’s friendship by telling her that I was in love with her. How stupid could I be? I told my cousin’s wife that I love her. I deserve to lose her. I deserve to lose him. I wonder if she told Mason. I wonder if she will ever tell Mason. I hope not. I can’t afford to lose anyone else in my life.

  I decide to take a shower because I am feeling dirty and I’m hoping to wash away whatever it is that clings to me. I close my eyes and let the hot water touch my hair and run down my face. I quickly open them because whenever I close my eyes, I see Taylor. This isn’t healthy, and I know it. I have to find a way to get her out of my head. I want to forget her like she told me to. But I’m afraid that’s just impossible.

  I step out the shower, put on some boxers, only to lie in bed. Tomorrow is Friday. I am not going to school. I can’t go to school, not like this. I need at least an extra day to find a way to cope with everything that’s been going on. I close my eyes while lying on my back. I see Taylor, but I don’t want to fight it. I begin to dream about her, and it feels good.

  Taylor

  Today is the day I leave the hospital. It seems like it’s been a lifetime since I walked outside. When I called Jackson, he said he’d be here in five minutes. Five minutes isn’t fast enough. I want to leave now. I’ve been in this place far too long and I’m ready to return to my life, as depressing as it may be.

  As soon as Jackson comes, I sign whatever papers need to be signed, and we’re out the door. He drives me straight to the apartment. It feels like ages since I’ve been to this place.

  “Mason’s not here,” Jackson says. “You going to be okay?”

  “Yeah, he had someplace to go. I’ll be fine.”

  “I think I should stay with you for a while. You know, at least until he gets home.”

  I can tell he’s afraid I may try something again. I can’t blame him—I wouldn’t trust me, either, after the stunt that I pulled.

  “No! You can go. I’ll call you if I need anything,” I say, trying to convince him.

  “Taylor—”

  “Jackson, I’ll be fine. I promise.” I give him a squeeze.

  “Okay. Don’t make me regret this decision, Taylor.”

  “I won’t! I promise.”

  I’ve decided to keep my promises lately. After I broke my promise to Peyton, I didn’t want to break anymore. I get out of the car. Jackson tells me to make sure I call him if I need anything.

  I yell back, “Okay.”

  The apartment is really clean. OCD clean. Mason tends to clean a lot when he’s nervous or upset. It’s a rare trait to find in a guy, but it’s okay with me. I walk into the bedroom and see that everything is in perfect order. He does love me. It shows in the tidiness of each room. I quickly get undressed, take a shower, and put on sweats and a shirt. There’s nothing to do, so I watch TV. My mind drifts off numerous times during the movie, but I guess that’s to be expected of someone who just was released from a crazy home.

  Crazy. I hate that word. It doesn’t describe a mental condition. It’s just a word that makes people with mental problems feel less normal than they already are. That’s another word I hate: normal. What is that supposed to mean, anyway? Who says what normal is? Maybe my life is normal for me. No one has the right to say what’s normal or what’s not. At least that’s how I feel. But if this is normal…I don’t want it.

  I hear the front door slam. Mason is home. Either that, or someone just broke into the apartment. He walks into the bedroom without saying a word. I am afraid to speak, but I do anyway. “Hi,” I say, not taking my eyes off of him.

  It takes a while for him to answer me, but he finally says, “Hi, Taylor.”

  It isn’t the reaction or greeting I was hoping for, but at least he spoke.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, trying to sound caring. I have to ask, even if he gets mad. I have to ask. That’s what a good wife does, right?

  “Nothing.”

  He’s lying and I don’t like it. “Mason, I’m trying to make this work. You have to give me a little more here.”

  I’m not trying to get on his nerves or anything, but I need more from him. Especially now. He sighs and sits down on the bed next to me. He kisses me softly on the lips and apologizes.

  “I just had a hard day, babe. I don’t mean to take it out on you,” he says, sounding apologetic.

  “It’s okay. Why did you have to go to the doctor?” I ask.

  “It wasn’t for me. It was for Lauren. She had to go for a sonogram for her child and she wanted me there,” he says with a little bit of disgust in his voice.

  “It’s your child, too, you know.” It burns me to say it, but it is the truth.

  “What?” He’s getting annoyed.

  “You said her child. But it’s yours also—she didn’t do it by herself,” I continue, with a shot of anger.

  “Taylor, please. Not now!”

  “Why not? It’s the truth! You have to face it sometime, Mason. You did it and you can’t be angry with her. You have to blame yourself also.” I feel the anger rising in both of us. “If you’d just kept it in your pants or saved it for me, you wouldn’t—we wouldn’t—be going through this!”

  I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I can’t stop. I don’t mean to start an argument. I just want him to face the truth.

  “I’ve been blaming myself for a long time now, Taylor—and you know what I realized? I’m not the only one to blame in this situation,” he says with hate in his eyes.

  “What are you trying to say, Mason?”

  This was going to be our first full-on argument.

  “You weren’t there when you should’ve been,” he says folding his arms to his chest.

  “Mason, you were the one always working! Or screwing Lauren, or whatever her name is. I don’t know which one you did more honestly!” I’m officially yelling.

  “Don’t do that, Taylor. Don’t act like I was the only one in the wrong here.” He’s still calm, but I see that he’s still riding anger.

  “Mason, I didn’t do anything. You’re the one who cheated. You’re the one who knocked up some bimbo-cheerleading-looking slut!” I’m on a roll and I can’t stop. “Was I not enough for you, Mason? Did I
not please you enough? Was that it, huh? Because whatever it was, there is no reason why you couldn’t just come to me about it!” I’m spilling my heart on the floor, and he doesn’t even try to catch it.

  “That’s just it, Taylor: you didn’t do anything. You did nothing at all! I couldn’t come to you, Taylor! You know why I couldn’t come to you? Because Peyton always had you! You were always with him. He was all you cared about. I felt like I was losing you to him and you didn’t even care. You didn’t even notice! So I had this attractive girl after me, always there when you weren’t. I tried to fight it! I honestly did—but she was there, and you were with Peyton!”

  If an observer didn’t know better, they’d think we were conducting a contest to see who could yell the loudest.

  “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

  Mason 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.