A Tragic Heart

by S. Elle Cameron

  “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.

  “Yeah, you are two different people, and that’s why I love you. You’re unlike anyone else and it makes me happy to say that I have you. Adalyn is old news, like I said. But you are my current state and my future. I’m not going anywhere and I pray to God that you’re not either,” Peyton says, rolling onto his back with his head turned toward me.

  “I’m not going anywhere either, Peyton. I love you too much.” I kiss him intensely, but he stops me.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, looking at his soul through his eyes.

  “Nothing. It’s just that…you’re getting me…uh…excited…and I’m too hurt to do anything,” he says, looking at me and touching my arm softly.

  “Well, you don’t have to do anything this time,” I say, before going on with the kiss.

  I’m more than ready to make Peyton my husband. I tell him that as soon as we get back to Arizona, I want to marry him, busy schedule or not. I can’t wait any longer and time isn’t going to make a difference, so we might as well get it over with.

  “I love you,” I say laying my head on his hard, bare chest.

  “I love you too,” he replies before falling asleep.

  I fall asleep in Peyton’s arms and I’ve never felt safer. God, don’t ever take him away from me.

  ***

  Before Peyton’s unfortunate run-in with Karson, we planned to do a number of adventurous activities during our stay in Perth. Since Peyton’s too hurt to do anything, we decide to use this trip as relaxation before Mason and I start college next month and Peyton begins traveling back and forth from New York to Los Angeles. There’s even talk about him going over to Europe for a few months. I’ll miss him miserably but I guess staying focused on my schoolwork will help.

  Mason and I walk on the beach that Peyton’s house overlooks, as Peyton sits on the front porch, watching. He claims he’s a bit sore and he needs to sit long enough for his painkillers to kick in. For the past two days, he hasn’t been very active. I think his condition is starting to make him a little depressed.

  “I’m worried about Peyton,” I tell Mason as we walk on the beach with the sunset as our background.

  It isn’t exactly warm outside; it’s only about sixty-four degrees. Since Australia is in the Southern Hemisphere, July is winter.

  “Why?” Mason asks, picking up a pebble and throwing it into the ocean.

  “He’s been different lately. I think he’s depressed because of what happened with Karson. He doesn’t like to be the victim or admit he’s hurting, but I can see it. He hasn’t even been taking his medication for his bipolar disorder,” I confide in Mason.

  “Just give him some time; he’ll come around. I do believe the incident with Karson made it worse, because seeing him reminded Peyton of his mother and that has always been a touchy thing for him. But that’s not the only reason he’s been down,” Mason informs me.

  “What do you know, Mason?”

  “He’s afraid of leaving you. He knows once we get back to Arizona, his time with you is limited and soon he’ll be away for months at a time without seeing you. He’s worried about leaving you alone and he’s afraid of missing you; it’s written all over him. Peyton has always been the type to distance himself from someone he cares about when he knows a good-bye is in order. He thinks it helps both people in the situation and that it will make the goodbye easier, since you two will not be as close as you usually are. I think somewhere inside he knows that’s not true but he’s going to stick to that theory anyway.”

  Mason knows so much about Peyton and he doesn’t even have to speak to him. They are really like brothers. That becomes clear to me in these few seconds.

  “Well, he shouldn’t, and I’m going to make him forget about that theory. I already told him that as soon as we get back home, I want to marry him. I want to do this before he leaves again,” I say, playing with the ring on my left ring finger.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to wait for him to come back? It may be too much of a strain to marry him now and then have him leave right after. You won’t be able to enjoy him there as your husband,” Mason says honestly.

  He has a point that is hard to argue. If Peyton leaves right after we say “I do,” that would be hurtful to us as husband and wife.

  “I’ll just ask him what he wants and what he feels is best. He’s the one who has to be away from me and only he knows if he can handle it or not. I’ve been selfish and I’ve never asked him what he wanted or what he thought was best. I probably should do that now.” I’m talking to Mason but it sounds as if I am really thinking aloud.

  “That’ll be a good idea,” Mason agrees. “I don’t ever want to see you and Peyton end up like you and me.”

  His eyes are sincere. I know that I have to talk to Peyton. This isn’t a decision I have the right to make on my own. It’s a decision that’s going to affect the rest our lives. Mason and I walk back to the house to find Peyton still sitting on the porch, looking through old photographs of himself and his parents. Mason goes into the house to give us some alone time, and I sit on Peyton’s lap, admiring each picture.

  “This was taken right after I had my first fight with Mason. We were so mad at each other,” Peyton says, laughing at the pouting looks on his face and Mason’s.

  “What were you two fighting about?”

  “I tricked Mason into doing something—I can’t remember what—but he got hurt from it and he ran crying to his mom and told on me. I called him a snitch and beat him up and we didn’t speak to each other for a full hour.”

  “Oooh, a full hour. You two must have been pretty angry,” I say, mocking Peyton.

  He just laughs. “That was the longest we’ve ever gone without speaking—until recently. I’m glad that’s over,” he says, moving on to the next picture. “This was on my fifth birthday. It was my last year living in this house and the last good year my parents were together. After that, everything went downhill.”

  I see the hurt on his face and realize the effect his parents’ decisions had on him. Peyton turned out great for a boy with a troubled past; that’s why he deserves a carefree future.

  “Do you want to get married now?” I ask the question I’ve been keeping inside.

  “Of course I do. I want to get married whenever you want to.”

  “No, Peyton. Do you think it’s a good idea for us to get married as soon as we get back home if you’re going to leave right after? Or do you think we should wait until you come back? It’s your call. You’re the one who has to be away from me. Can you handle it?”

  “Can you?” Peyton answers me with a question.

  “I can. I’ll miss you like hell, but I’ll deal somehow. I’ll just use my schoolwork as a distraction. But I don’t want the fact that you’re not there to be a strain on our marriage. I want us to last,” I tell him, only making eye contact every once in a while.

  “We will. I don’t want you to think that marrying me sooner rather than later is going to mean we won’t last. I’m fine with it either way—as long as I get to spend the rest of my life with you, I’m okay,” he says, holding my hand.

  “Maybe we should wait—just until you come back. That way, we’ll have more time together and we can get to actually live like husband and wife.”

  “If that’s what you want. Even if you change your mind again, I’m cool with it.”

  Peyton lets me get my way too often, and I want that to change. I know he just wants to make me happy, but I want him to be just as happy as I am. That’s what being in love is about: making each other as happy as possible.

  “Peyton, are you sure you’re okay with this?” I want to be certain.

  “Yeah—I’m fine; honestly, I am.” He kisses me.

  “And Peyton?”

  “What is it?” he asks, placing his arm around my waist.

  “Stop being so distant. I don’t like it.”

  “I’m not being—”

>   “Yes you are,” I say, refusing to let him finish his sentence.

  He doesn’t try to argue or defend himself; he just apologizes and kisses me gently. Something isn’t right with Peyton, and he and I both know it.

  ***

  During the rest of the trip Peyton tries not to be so distracted, but he still isn’t the same person I know. Overall, we all have a great time in Perth, Australia; we all needed this time together. In the blink of an eye, we’re back home.

  It’s late at night, around eleven, when Peyton decides to go out. I’m sitting on the couch, flipping through channels on the television. Something brewing inside of me tells me that something bad is waiting to happen.

  “I’ll be back soon,” he says. “I’m just going to go out for a little while—just for some air. I need to clear my mind.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” I ask, concerned.

  “No, I’ll be okay. I should be back in about an hour, max,” he leans over to kiss me, but something about this kiss is different; it has power in it.

  Peyton

  I hate to see her worry about me and I want her to know that I’m fine. I just need some time to myself. I’ve been having these nightmares lately. It’s really been bothering me. I keep seeing myself being forced to leave Taylor, and in the end she’s broken. I know they’re just dreams because I would never leave Taylor, as long as I’m in control of it. Maybe it’s just the anxiety of knowing that I have to leave her for a few months and it’s just not sitting right with me.

  It’s beginning to rain heavily by the time I make it to the highway. We don’t get much rain here, but when it rains, it pours. I begin thinking about the rest of my life with Taylor and how many children we’re going to have. I think about what it will be like to be a musician and a father. Truth is, I can’t wait to go on the road so I can come back to Taylor and we can finally get married and work on a family. The family part will probably come later on, but it’s nice to think about it. Just the thought of it makes me smile.

  My thoughts are interrupted when I have to swerve around another car. Apparently people don’t know how to drive in the rain. I wonder how some people even manage to get driver’s licenses. I don’t want to get upset thinking about it, so I switch my thoughts back to Taylor. I miss her already. So I decide to get off at the next exit and make my way home. I belong at home with my wife.