by Mindy Hayes
My heart slowly, gradually, irrevocably accepts it.
Brooke trails her fingertips along my jaw. “I believe you.” Her lips brush a whisper of a kiss across my mouth. “But I see now. We’re not meant to be either.”
“Brooke…Please. I love you. I love you so much. Don’t you see that?”
“Even if you’ve let her go, I’ll never feel like your first choice.” She shrugs and tears slide down her cheeks. “I’ll always be second because if nothing was standing in your way, you would be with her right now. Not me.”
My eyes close hard, and my fists clench. She’s right.
Her voice is a broken mess. “You can’t tell me I’m wrong.”
I want to. There’s nothing more I want in this moment. If it were up to me, I’d make Brooke first. I’d tell her all the things she wants to hear. How Peyton means nothing to me, and Brooke is the only one I see, my soulmate. We could continue living blissfully ignorant in Boston and forget my family. But…I fear that would only make me my father.
If I were to marry Brooke, move to some suburban neighborhood, and have a family with her, would I still love Peyton after all those years? Would I give it all up if I had the chance? The sinking feeling in my gut tells me I might. I’m not strong enough. I thought I could be. What am I doing? What am I thinking? Brooke might not be my wife, and we might not have children, but if Peyton were to show up on our doorstep and confess her feelings, I wouldn’t think twice. I’m already my father.
I’d rather die alone than be him. I might not be able to lie to Brooke, but I sure can believe my own lie, making myself believe I could actually be free of Peyton Parker.
I open my eyes. “I’m so sorry. I do love you.” Because I do. I just love two people. I have to let Brooke go. I have to stop this now.
“I wish that were enough.”
And I stop trying to fight for her. I understand why she’s letting me go, which only makes it hurt worse. I’m the one to blame. I’m the reason she’s crying. I hate that I couldn’t be enough. I hate my heart for not allowing me choose.
With the finality of her words, I want to hold her in my arms one last time. For the first time I feel the need to ask her permission, but I don’t. When I take her into my arms, pulling her close against my chest, she comes willingly—instinct. I squeeze my remorse and love into her, knowing it’s not enough, but needing to do it anyway. Nothing else is said. There is nothing more to say. We don’t stay that way for long. Brooke pushes off my chest without sparing me a glance and walks to our bedroom, shutting the door behind her.
Brooke decides to move back to Durham the next day, and I feel more emptiness than ever when she’s gone. I can’t tell if it’s the loss of her or because I lost her for something my heart can’t control.
WHEN I WAKE up, it takes a moment for me to remember she’s gone. It’s the first morning without her. I stare at the empty sheets. I feel incomplete, but not hollow. I miss Brooke, but I no longer feel the overwhelming heartbreak. That should mean something, right? Am I heartless? I’ve been with her for over a year and yet, it hurt more to lose Peyton, someone who was only mine for a month four years ago.
I reach over to my nightstand and pick up my phone to text Peyton. With the surgery next week, I’m hoping she’s filled in a few more people about her condition. I hate to even think the word. A word shouldn’t terrify me as much as it does. It’s only six letters and yet it has the ability to devastate me with two syllables.
Me: Did you tell Harper?
Pete: Yeah. She’s not happy with me.
I can’t imagine why. But I understand to an extent why Peyton wanted to keep her illness a secret. I wouldn’t want people treating me differently either, and I wouldn’t want all the questions and consoling looks like I might die. Peyton is not going to die.
Me: When’s the surgery?
Pete: Monday
Me: What time?
Pete: 11am. Why?
I have a meeting first thing that morning, but I can make it work. As long as I’m back in Boston by Tuesday.
Me: I can’t be there for the surgery, but I’ll be there when you get out.
Her next text tries to talk me out of coming, but it sounds more like she doesn’t want me to feel obligated. It’s not a question of obligation. I need to be there. What if there are complications? What if Tyler decides last minute there’s an emergency at work that can’t wait? No. She can pretend that the surgery isn’t a big deal and act like she’s fine, that she doesn’t need the support, but she’s lying. I know she is.
Me: I’m coming.
Pete: Thank you
WHEN I ARRIVE at the airport on Monday morning my fight is delayed. By an hour. I check the time on my phone. At this rate I won’t get to the hospital before three. Hours after Peyton will be done with the surgery. Dangit!
Once I make it on the airplane I can’t keep my leg still the entire flight. It bounces so much that at one point the person next to me asks me if I hate flying. Nope. Just counting down the hours until I can see that Peyton is okay.
My mom picks me up from the airport and drives us straight to MUSC Hospital. I used to love to look out the windows on drives and count trees as they flew by. South Carolina is so green. I love the green. I’ve missed the green. Right now I can’t even stop thinking to appreciate it.
“Have you heard anything yet?” I ask.
“Olivia said Peyton is in recovery. The surgery took a little longer than they anticipated. Apparently, there were minor complications, but she’s doing fine.”
“Complications? Like what?”
“She didn’t say. Just that Peyton did really well.”
“Did she say anything else?”
She shakes her head no. “We’ll find out more when we get there. It’s okay, sweetheart.”
My gut feeling tells me it’s not.
When we arrive, Peyton has been moved to her own room. The anesthesia has worn off and she’s talking. My dad shows me to her room. I knock once before opening the door. Olivia’s back is facing me. She looks over her shoulder at me and offers a sad smile. She bends down to kiss Peyton’s forehead before she squeezes my arm and leaves the room. Olivia must know, but she doesn’t say a word to me.
Peyton slowly twists her head to see me walking farther into the room. Her face is wet and blotchy. “You made it,” she rasps.
I rush to her side and sit down on the chair closest to the hospital bed on the other side of the room. “Nothing was going to keep me away.” I take one of her hands in both of mine.
“What happened?” I ask. “They said there were complications.”
She tries to swallow. “It was worse than Dr. Levanstine thought. He couldn’t save my ovaries.” Peyton shuts her eyes tight and her lip quivers. “He had to do the full hysterectomy.” Nothing else comes but her tears. Her head bows. She doesn’t make a sound. The pain even takes her voice. I scoot closer and wrap her in my arms.
“Oh, Peyton. Where’s Tyler?” I ask.
“He ran back to the house to get his laptop,” she utters.
“Before or after you found out?”
“Before.”
“Does he know?”
She whispers, “Dr. Levanstine talked to him…as soon as I got out of surgery.”
Tyler knew. He knew, and he didn’t wait to be there for her when she heard the news. If there were ever a time for me to step in and tell her to call off the engagement, it would be now. He doesn’t deserve her. The selfish, narcissistic waste of air.
But I say nothing. I sit by her side and take on her heartbreak. The tears come, flowing relentlessly down her face. I do the only thing I can. I hold her and smooth down her hair. I whisper words of commiseration and comfort. Though I’m sure it means nothing, I pour my heart into my words and my grasp, and grieve along with her.
When some time has lapsed, Peyton pulls away. “What if Tyler doesn’t want to get married now that I can’t have his children?”
“Then he’s even more u
nworthy of you than I thought.” I cocoon her right hand in my hands. The fact that she even questions it spirals me into a silent rage.
She laughs lightly and winces, drawing her other arm around her stomach. “Don’t make me laugh. It’s hurts.”
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be funny.” Without thinking, I press my lips to her knuckles. I hold her hand there, looking up at her. When she peers over at me, a sheen of tears glazing her eyes and a sad smile crossing her lips, I don’t think I’ve ever loved her more.
I’m about to say as much when Tyler walks in with the laptop under his arm. He stops when he sees me leaning close, Peyton’s hand still in mine. For her sake I pull away and stand. Now that he’s back, I no longer fit here. I can’t be the third to their two wheels. I refuse to be.
“Brodee.” It’s the first time Tyler’s greeted me without coming to slap my hand or spouting out some stupid nickname. When he’s not smiling, I hate to say it, he’s kind of intimidating as he towers over me.
But that doesn’t deter me. He might be tall and threatening, but he’s still a prick. I can’t fathom what she sees in him. “Tyler, I was just leaving.” I squeeze Peyton’s hand before letting go. “Rest, okay? Call me if you need me.” I bend down and kiss her forehead.
“You’re leaving already?”
“You’ve got Tyler now,” I say in all sincerity, not out of spite, but I hear how my words come across when her brow pinches together. She nods apprehensively and watches me go.
“Take care of her,” I murmur as I brush past Tyler.
At first I can tell he’s not sure how to respond, then he says, “I will,” like I insulted him, as if he wouldn’t know how to take care of her. I meant it that way. He doesn’t.
Peyton calls my name as I’m about to walk out the door. “Thank you for being here.”
I nod and close the door to give them privacy.
WHEN WE LEAVE the hospital, I ask my mom to take me to see Harper and Skylar. They’re waiting for an update, and I want to tell them in person.
“Oh, Peyton.” Tears trickle down Harper’s cheeks. “I need to call her.”
“Give her a little bit of time. I know she’ll call you when she’s ready.”
“Where was Tyler for all of this?”
“At our parents’ getting his laptop.”
“I’m sorry. What?” Harper screeches, aggressively wiping the wetness from her face.
I mutter, “My sentiments exactly.”
“I could kill him.” Her face turns red. “She’s so blinded by her love for him she doesn’t see what a buttwipe he is. How can love make a person that blind? Were you there when he came back?”
“Yeah. I couldn’t stand being in the same room as him, so I left.”
Harper’s teeth grit together as she shakes her head, fuming. “If she marries him, so help me, Brodee, I don’t think I can go to the wedding.”
“If I have to, you do, too.”
“Maybe Tyler and I need to have a little chat,” Skylar says from beside Harper on the couch. “If it comes from Brodee, it’ll sound like jealousy. Maybe he needs to hear from me that I’ll beat some sense into him if he doesn’t get his crap together.”
“I doubt that would make a difference, babe, but good on you for thinking it would.” Harper kisses his cheek. “You’re a good man, Skylar Dalton.”
“Well, it would make me feel better. Maybe I’d get a punch in there before he beat the crap out of me for thinking I could take him. One punch might be worth it.”
I laugh. “I’ve got to get back to Boston. I just wanted to say hi and bye before I headed out.”
“You came to see her for the surgery, and now you’re heading back?” Harper asks.
“I’ve got a redeye to catch. I have to be back for a meeting tomorrow afternoon, otherwise I’d stay longer. My mom’s waiting in the car.”
“Does Peyton know that?” she asks.
“I didn’t mention it, no. But it’s fine. I was here for what I needed to be here for.” At least I could be there when Tyler wasn’t. “She has Tyler now.”
“That’s like having the comfort of a sack of rocks.”
I know what Harper is getting at. “She’s made her choice, Harp.”
“It’s the wrong choice. And so is yours.”
“What choice is that?”
“Picking Brooke.”
Ha. I guess I should let them in on the news. “Well, that’s over now. So…”
“Since when?” Skylar asks.
“Since a few days ago.”
Harper interrupts, “And you’re still just going to walk away. Now that you have no commitment to another woman, you’re just going to let Peyton marry that douchenozzle? After all of that?”
I groan and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Do you know how many times I’ve tried to tell her how I feel?”
“What about recently?” she presses. “Does she know you broke things off with Brooke?”
“Technically, Brooke broke things off with me, and no. It hasn’t come up in conversation yet.”
“It’s simple, Brodee. You just come out and say it. Peyton, ‘Brooke and I broke up.’”
I stand up from the corner recliner. “Right now, I think Peyton has more important things to worry about. And I have to go or I’m going to miss my flight.”
Harper opens her mouth to say more, but Skylar stops her. “He’s gotta go, babe.”
“Fine,” she spats, “but I’m not letting this go. We love you. That’s the only reason why I’m pushing this so hard. Have a safe flight. Text us to let us know you landed safely, will you?”
I smile at her request and nod. “I love y’all, too. And I will.” I realize, as I walk out of their house, no matter the family you were born into, sometimes family chooses you.
I CALL PEYTON to see how she’s recovering. She’s pretty tight-lipped about how she’s feeling, so I know she doesn’t want to talk about it. I have a feeling it will be a while before she will.
“You didn’t stay long,” she says.
“I’m sorry. I had a meeting I couldn’t miss.” I don’t tell her that I shouldn’t have even taken that day, but thankfully my boss understood since it was a family matter, and it hasn’t affected my work.
“If I’d known you were only coming for a few hours, I would have told you not to waste your time.”
“And that’s why I didn’t tell you.”
Silence. “We had to push back the wedding a little bit.”
“I figured you would until you recovered. When’s the new date?”
“April 24th. Tyler starts school on the 28th, so we’re cutting it close, but it’ll still be enough time. And since it’s not like we’re renting out a space, and instead getting married on the beach, all the vendors were pretty understanding when they found about the circumstances.”
“Well, that’s good. They better.”
“How’s Boston?” she asks, changing the subject. “The job? Everything going good?” Of course, Peyton’s diverting the attention from her.
“Work is good. Boston’s great. It’s kind of cool living in the city. It’s nice to be so central to everything. There’s so much to do. No time to get bored.”
“And Brooke? How’s she doing? Does she like Boston?”
I don’t know why, but I don’t want to tell Peyton about Brooke yet. It somehow makes me feel like I failed. I tried moving forward. I tried loving another woman. But I’m not built to love anyone but Peyton. “Umm…she moved back to Durham. We didn’t work out.”
“You broke up?” The fact that she’s stunned makes me wonder if what Brooke and I had was real. I know it was real, but was it worth trying to salvage? Why would I let someone as amazing as Brooke go?
“Yeah.”
“Mutual?” she questions.
“You know…I think she broke up with me.”
“You think?”
“Well, she didn’t take it too well, either.”
“I’m
sorry, Brodee,” Peyton sympathizes. “I know you really cared about her.”
“I did. I loved her. She was really hurt when she left. She didn’t even let me try to fix it. She moved back home the next day.” It’s horrible timing, but my eyes begin to water. I squeeze them shut to cut it off. I made the right choice by waving my white flag. Fighting for Brooke wouldn’t have made a difference. She’d never fill my whole heart. It would always be too crowded for her to fit.
“Do you remember when we were little,” Peyton begins tenderly, “and I fell off that tire swing you guys used to have in your backyard?”
It’s weird that Brooke and I were just looking at that photo. “I cried like a baby and couldn’t stop.”
“You cried for me,” she corrects. “I’d gotten all scraped up, but you were the one who cried because you knew I was in pain. I’ve never known a more empathetic person. You feel so deeply for others. It’s one reason why I’m so lucky to have you as a best friend. You never let me hurt alone.” She pauses. “Don’t beat yourself up over Brooke. It’s life. She’ll move on. You’ll move on. Life will work out the way it’s supposed to.”
I hate that phrase. Supposed to. So, my dad was supposed to cheat on my mom? I was supposed to lose Peyton? She was supposed to get engaged to Tyler? I was supposed to break Brooke’s heart? I don’t believe that for one second. Life is all about choices. Life will work out the way we choose. My dad chose to cheat on my mom. Peyton chose to get engaged to Tyler. I chose to lose Brooke. I could’ve tried harder.
Right now, I don’t like the choices that have been made.
“SHE’S GONE.”
“Well, that sounds rather cryptic,” I say to Harper.
“Peyton. She took off.”
I scoot onto the edge of my couch, and lower the volume on the TV. “Where? Took off where?”
“I don’t know. Olivia won’t tell me. Peyton turned off her phone, so I called Olivia to make sure everything was okay, and she said that Peyton just needed to get away before the wedding.”