A Tragic Heart

by S. Elle Cameron

  “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.

  “Now Mason, I understand that infidelity played a huge factor in this unfortunate situation. Do you have anything to say about that yet?”

  I can see the guilt and hurt on his face and I have to look away. Especially since I should have that same look on my face right about now; and for some reason, I don’t. Does this mean I’m not really sorry? Or am I just a great actress?

  “I do, actually,” Mason says. “I know that it was a mistake, but it’s a mistake that I can’t take back or make up for. I keep promising Taylor that I will make up for it, but I know that I can’t and I think now is a good time to admit that. I have no excuse for it because there is no excuse for adultery.”

  That makes me highly uncomfortable. That statement makes me realize that no matter how much I try, or no matter how much I blame Mason for pushing me toward Peyton, I have no real excuse for committing adultery.

  “I can blame it on the other girl for flirting with me, or being attractive,” Mason says. “I could even use the lame, old excuse about me being a man so I’m naturally weak. But in the end, it was me who made the decision. It was me who caused this. Sure she was attractive, but so is my wife—even more so, if you ask me. And sure, she did flirt; and yes, I am a man who is easily tempted; but none of those excuses are actually logical. None of them justifies what I did, and I know that now. I’ve actually known that for a while; I just didn’t want to admit it. And I’m sorry, Taylor. I really am.” He looks me straight in the eyes, and I see the sincerity in his heart.

  My eyes fill with tears, but I don’t let one fall. I am a bad person and I sit here wondering how that could’ve happened in such a short time. I let Mason believe that he’s the only one to blame in this situation; in our marriage. I want to tell Mason that he’s forgiven; and that I slept with Peyton, so we’re pretty much even. I want to say so much to him, but I can’t find the correct words. “Mason, I’m so sorry. For everything,” is all I can say.

  Kate says we’ve made quite a breakthrough for a first-time couple’s therapy session. But the only thing I felt break in that room was my heart.

  Peyton

  I lie in bed, just looking up at the ceiling. She still loves him, and that bothers me. I know it shouldn’t because I’m “the other man” in this scenario, but I can’t shake the thought of her being torn between us. I want her to make a decision: him or me. I know it won’t be easy for her to decide because she practically built a family with him and I just stepped in during the middle of it all. I love her more than he does and that’s one thing that I’m certain of. I do not doubt that he does love her, but I know Mason and I know that he’s selfish. He loves her, but he loves himself more; and if he thinks keeping her around for now will keep him complete, he will say and do anything to please her. That is, until he’s finished with her and starts acting out again. I just don’t want to see her hurt or upset again. I want her to be happy with whatever decision she makes. Is it so bad that I’m hoping she chooses me?

  I know that she wants me but I’m afraid that it may not be enough. She says that’s she’s in love with me, but she’s not proving it. I know I made up the rule that we shouldn’t kiss, touch, or flirt until she’s officially through with Mason, but I just feel she could do a little more. I don’t think she really wants to leave him. I feel as if I’m her backup plan if Mason disappoints her. I don’t fancy this feeling at all.

  If she asks me to give it all up for her, I would in less than a heartbeat; but I feel she wouldn’t do the same for me. If she really loved me, she would. I want to find out; I have to find out…tonight. I look at the clock next to my bed. It reads 2:05 a.m. I’m going to call her and ask her to come over right now. I know this may be a bogus way of testing her feelings for me, but I want to know if she feels enough to even consider doing it. I understand it may be unfair to her, but if Mason can be selfish and she still loves him, then I have every right to be selfish, too.

  I pick up my cell phone and browse through my contact list until I reach her name. I stare at the phone for a while, pondering whether I really should do this or not. Should I really judge her feelings for me on something so small? Will I be just as bad as Mason if I act out of selfishness?

  I stop the thinking for a while and just call her cell number. She doesn’t pick up the first time, so I try again. It rings exactly four times before she answers. She sounds tired, so I know I awakened her.

  “Peyton, is everything okay?” is the first thing she asks.

  “Yeah, everything’s fine. Look, I’m sorry to wake you up…but do you think you can come over now?”

  I know it must sound crazy to her, but I feel like I need her at this moment more than ever before.

  “Hold on, Peyton.” I hear rustling in the background. “Sorry, I just had to leave the bedroom. I didn’t want to wake Mason up. Now, what is it that you want?”

  “I want you to come over now,” I say, being as upfront as possible.

  “Now? Peyton, it’s after two in the morning. We have school tomorrow!” she whispers.

  “Yeah, I know, but I just really need to see you right now. Please.” I am practically begging.

  She’s quiet for a short while. Then she says, “Peyton, it’s pouring outside.”

  “Taylor, please.” This is the last time I’ll ask. If she doesn’t come, then I have my answer.

  “Okay. I’ll be there soon,” she says, finally surrendering.

  I don’t want to use her like this, but I can’t wait until later to see her. I need her now. It is 2:45 a.m. by time she reaches my apartment. She’s soaking wet and she’s never looked more beautiful. I let her in and just admire her for a few seconds. She must care; she drove in the pouring rain to see me at two in the morning. That speaks words that I don’t need to actually hear.

  “Peyton, are you okay?” she asks, taking off her jacket.

  “You’re drenched.”

  “Well, it is raining—pretty bad, if you ask me,” she says, taking off her shoes.

  “Thank you, Taylor—for coming,” I say, as I watch her.

  “You said you needed me—I had no choice.”

  “You did—and you chose to come,” I say, correcting her.

  “Peyton, what is this about?” she asks, confused.

  “Take off your clothes—you’re soaked. I’ll give you a T-shirt and some shorts,” I say, walking toward my bedroom. She follows me.

  “Peyton why did you need me?” she asked now worried.

  “I just had to see you,” I say as I hand her some dry clothes.

  “For what?” she says, taking them from me.

  She took off her clothes in front of me. Perhaps this is a sign that she’s comfortable around me. Maybe it’s her way of trusting me; or even loving me. I watch her every move.

  “Peyton!” she yells, snapping me out of my trance. “Why did you have to see me?”

  She’s putting on the shirt and shorts that I gave her.

  “The truth?” I ask.

  “That would be nice,” she says, standing directly in front of me.

  “I wanted to test you…to see if you love me enough, or even care enough to come over if I say I need you.”

  She just stares at me for a while, and I can’t read her thoughts. Her expression changes, and suddenly she slaps me.

  “What the hell, Taylor?” I yell, holding the left side of my face.

  “You called me over here at two in the morning on a school night to test me? What the hell, Peyton?” she’s yelling at me, and I find it sexy.

  “You asked me to give you the truth. I could’ve lied and made up a story,” I say calmly. “Besides, I wasn’t sure
how you felt about me.”

  “You weren’t sure how I felt about you?” she repeats. “Peyton, when I say I care about you and that I love you, I mean it! You shouldn’t have to test me—you should trust me!”

  “Look, I know it was a little selfish but—”

  “A little selfish, Peyton?” she says, cutting me off. “You’re damn right it was selfish! You made me drive in the pouring rain where I could’ve possibly gotten into an accident and died!”

  She has a point. I didn’t think about those possibilities. I would kill myself if anything ever happened to Taylor; especially if it was because of me.

  “Taylor, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking that you really didn’t care about me—that you were just using me as a plan B if Mason disappointed you again. I didn’t—”

  She stops me again. “This has to do with you being jealous of Mason. Peyton, why do you feel like you need to compete with him?” she asks, yelling even louder.

  “Maybe because he’s your husband, Taylor! I’m ‘the other guy,’ remember? The guy who only gets you sometimes; whenever Mason isn’t around. I have to sit and wait for you to leave him just so I can have you. And let’s be honest, there’s a huge chance that you won’t leave him!” I’m raising my voice now, too.

  “Peyton, I said I’ll leave. And I always do what I say,” she says, her voice breaking. She’s tearing up.

  I didn’t mean for this to turn into an argument, especially at two in the morning.

  “Yeah, well, you said that right after Mason hit you. You’re a woman—how do I know that you didn’t just say that out of anger? That you didn’t just tell me you loved me because I told you first, and Mason just happened to screw up even more after that? How do I know that you’re not going to stay with him and forget about me? How do I know that? Huh, Taylor? How do I know?” I yell.

  She starts crying and she looks angry.

  “Because I’m here, Peyton! I’m right here with you at two in the morning and its pouring rain outside; and Mason is at home, alone, in bed and didn’t even know that I was leaving. That’s how you know, Peyton! I’m here with you! Not there with him!” she yells. “You asked me to come and I did. I’m here Peyton!”