Once the clip is done, I find the broadcast from ESPN and play it for her. The first thing they talk about is Zimmerman. I don’t really know the guy, but I hate him right now, and I have no right to other than he was the one behind the wheel when Peyton was hurt. Throughout the time she’s watching, Dessie continues to light up my phone.
“Maybe you should call her.”
I lock my screen and slip it back into my pocket. “Tell me about Zimmerman,” I say, avoiding Peyton’s statement. “How long have you been dating.”
“Kyle and I aren’t dating, at least I don’t think we are.”
“Oh?”
“I don’t remember much from that day, but from what my mom says, I met Kyle at the game. He told the police he asked me out to dinner, and I guess I said yes.”
“Do you like him?”
Peyton laughs. “I don’t know. Why the interrogation?”
“No reason.” I shake my head because it’s not exactly true. I have a ton of reasons, but I don’t know if the timing is right. Is it? It should be, but I don’t want Peyton to think my feelings are only because she’s had a near-death experience, and telling her now makes it seem that way.
My mind is a damn mess. Do this. Do that. Tell her. Don’t tell her. Yet, I don’t know which way to go. I want nothing more than to tell her that I’m in love with her and ask her for a chance, but what if it’s not what she wants? Maybe Zimmerman is more her speed. Maybe Peyton looks at me like a brother, and that kiss… it could’ve freaked her out.
“You look like you’re a million miles away, Noah.”
“I am, I think. I don’t know. I just…”
“You just what?”
I finally look at Peyton, sweet and caring, beautiful and perfect, and kissable. The kiss I gave her in the middle of the night meant everything to me. It’s how I want to spend the rest of my days, kissing her, making her feel loved, showing her she means everything to me.
“You kissed me earlier,” she blurts out, breaking my reverie.
“You remember?”
She nods and pulls her bottom lip in between her teeth as if she’s meaning to torment me.
“Good. I’m glad. I meant that kiss, Peyton.” I rise up and lean toward her, gripping the bed rail strongly to hold me up. I’m afraid to touch her. Scared I’ll hurt her.
Peyton places her hand in front of me, halting my slow progress toward her mouth. “I have a question, well it’s more of a statement.”
“Anything,” I say, without moving.
“I don’t want to be the side chick, someone you come and see when you’re not playing or fly to tropical destinations. If you’re going to kiss me, it’s because you want me, and only me.”
“Dessie and I broke up, Peyton, because I’m in love with you. Now before you say anything, hear me out. I have felt this way… well for as long as I can remember. Unfortunately, it took almost losing you for me to open my eyes. I realized I’m with Dessie for all the wrong reasons and the feelings I have for her, pale in comparison to what I feel for you. We have a ton of hurdles if we want to give us a chance. That is, if you want to try this.”
Her ear-to-ear grin is all I need. I press my lips to hers. It’s a chaste kiss at first until she opens her mouth and I slip my tongue inside. I keep it brief though, out of fear her parents may walk by. I need to do the right thing and talk to Katelyn and Harrison, ask for their permission to be with her. The last thing I want is to be the cause of a family rift, but I’m in love with their daughter and have been for a long time. I hope they can accept that and give us their blessing.
The clearing of a throat has me looking over my shoulder. My blood runs cold when I see Dessie standing in Peyton’s doorway.
“What are you doing here?” I ask. I stay standing next to Peyton.
“Hi, Peyton,” Dessie says instead of answering me. “I wasn’t aware that you were awake.” She cocks her eyebrow at me.
“Hey, Des--”
“Peyton’s recovery is none of your business, Dessie. Again, what are you doing here?” I ask pointedly.
“We need to talk, Noah.”
I shake my head. “We don’t have anything to say to each other. I made myself pretty clear on where I stand.” My hand dangles near Peyton’s, desperate to feel connected to her. She locks her finger with mine as if she knew this is what I needed.
“But we do. If you would answer your phone, you’d know that we have something very important to discuss.”
I honestly thought if I avoided her, she’d go away. I was wrong. I sigh heavily and look at Peyton. She’s smiling, despite the awkwardness in the room.
“Fine, you don’t want to come with me, I’ll say what I have to say. I’m pregnant, Noah. Almost two months along.”
With my eyes still focused on Peyton, I watch as the color drains from her face and the blood all but leaves my body. Her finger slips away despite my attempt to hold on, and her eyes break hold with mine.
“What’d you say?” I sound like a strangled man when I ask her to repeat herself.
“We’re going to have a baby.”
“Noah?” Peyton’s voice is merely a pained whisper.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell her, kissing her on her forehead. I motion for Dessie to leave the room, glancing quickly at her, with her Cheshire Cat-like smile. I guide her down the hall, past the rest of my family, who conveniently stops talking as we pass, and through the doors. I keep pushing her toward the stairwell and as soon as we’re behind the solid door, I scream out, “What the hell are you playing at?”
“What are you talking about?” The innocent act isn’t going to get her very far with me.
“Why would you barge into Peyton’s room and announce something like this? Are you trying to hurt her? She’s done nothing to you.”
“Except steal you away.”
I shake my head. “She hasn’t stolen me, Dessie. I’m in love with her and I know it hurts you. Believe me, if I could go back to the day we met, I would’ve never pursued anything because it’s not fair to you or her.”
“So what now? I go home and play the single mother while you woo some college student? Is she going to play step-mommy to our child? Do I have to hammer out a visitation schedule around her school work?”
“Dessie…” I push the palms of my hands into my eyes. “You’re messing with lives here. You can’t do shit like this.”
“Wait a minute, Noah. You think I’m messing with lives? I’m pregnant. With your child, no less. I have to tell my boss who might blacklist me for the next round of shoots.” Dessie leans against the wall. “Look, I know we broke up, but this changes everything, but I can’t do this without you. I need your help. And you’re right, I have a slight issue with drugs, but I need to be clean for this baby and I can’t do it alone.”
“Dessie...”
“Noah, I’m sorry for everything. For the way I acted, for accusing you of cheating on me. I haven’t slept since we broke up. I’ve missed shoots. I’ve shown up late with bags under my eyes. I even went to your game so we could talk, and waited for you outside the locker room, only you never came out. Julius told me you already left. I had to track you down here. Do you know how hard this is for me? I know you don’t love me, not like you love Peyton.”
“I can’t imagine it’s been easy, but--”
Dessie steps closer to me. “Before you brush me off, give us a chance. We’re going to have a family, Noah.” She takes my hand and places it on her stomach. I feel nothing. “When this baby was created, you loved me, and I know you already love this baby growing inside of me.”
Dessie doesn’t give me a chance to respond, to tell her exactly why we broke up, before she steps back into the hallway. I chase after her, afraid of what she might say to Peyton, but when I get back to her room, she’s lying on her left side, facing away from the door. Her broken arm rests in front of her face, elevated slightly on a pillow. She doesn’t seem to flinch when I clear my throat. I go to her an
d press my lips to her ear. “I’m so sorry, Peyton.”
Those are the last words I say to her before leaving. I need time to think, to figure out what I have to do. Honestly, I’m not worried about whether Dessie is embarrassed. I know I should be, but Peyton’s happiness means more to me.
21
Peyton
It’s been thirty days since my life changed. No, I’m not talking about the accident. I’m talking about Noah telling me he’s in love with me and subsequently walking out the door to chase the woman carrying his baby. And in some twisted form of irony, this all happens in one freaking day, and I’m never given a chance to tell him how I feel or to say the words that were sitting on the tip of my tongue. Never mind the fact I couldn’t chase him because of my mangled body and broken heart after he whispered in my ear he was sorry. He couldn’t even be bothered to see if I was awake before he pushed me aside for Dessie.
She’s pregnant. I get it. The baby comes first. But at what expense, your own happiness? Mine? I’m selfish because for one brief moment I thought I had my best friend back. I thought I was going to have the man of my dreams and we’d ride off into the sunset with our families cheering us on. When in reality, it’s likely my accident that caused him to profess his love for me. The fear of losing someone can do that to a person.
Over the past month, everyone has asked how I’m doing. Fine. It’s always the answer. I have nothing else to say. I’m cooped up. If I’m not in bed, I’m in a wheelchair. And my heart is broken. No one will ever know or understand the pain Noah Westbury has caused me. He gave me a glimmer of hope, only to rip it away and hand it to Dessie.
“Good morning,” Jenna, my nurse says as she comes through my door, pushing a wheelchair, with an orderly right behind her. Normally, patients would leave intensive care, but my parents wanted the privacy so they paid who knows how much to keep me here. I don’t mind because I do love my nurse. She’s spent ample time in here, telling me about my first night and how she took care of me, waiting until my dad arrived. I’ll be forever grateful to her, for staying by my side so I wasn’t alone. “Are you dressed?” she asks.
“Yes, my mom and sister had the dubious task of helping me this morning. What’s going on? Is it time to leave?”
“Not quite, but we’re going to take you over to orthopedics and they’re going swap out your casts.”
“What? Are you serious? I’ll be able to bend my arm and leg?”
She nods happily.
“Oh thank God. I’ll be able to have a little independence.”
Jenna lowers my bed and helps me move down so Bob, the orderly, can pick me up. The drawback to intensive care is that the rooms are small and it’s hard to maneuver. As soon as I’m in the chair, Bob, who happens to be a former linebacker from Ohio State, pushes me down the hall. The nurses we pass tell me they want to sign my new cast when I come back. I look down at my thigh-high one now and try to make out the names.
When Betty Paige and Eden visited, they both decorated my casts with different drawings. Eden drew a water scene with a surfer. It was a guy and I teased her, asking her if he was her boyfriend. She turned red and my uncle Jimmy muttered something about a bloody bloke. Paige drew an elaborate garden scene with roses and vines weaving in and out of everyone’s signatures. I’m sad to be losing the artwork, but happy that the cast will be gone.
And finally, I get to choose my own colors. No more pink. When the physician’s assistant asks me what I want, I tell him black on the bottom because it’ll match most of the leggings I’ll be living in until it’s off, and blue for my arm.
When I’m done, only Bob is there to get me. Unfortunately, I still have to ride in the wheelchair. I haven’t used my legs in almost six weeks and won’t even be able to attempt doing so until I can get the cast off my arm, which according to the doctors won’t be for another six weeks or so. “Let’s detour for lunch,” I suggest.
“Now, Miss Peyton, are you trying to get me into trouble?”
“I am,” I tell him, laughing. This isn’t the first time we’ve done this. In fact, anytime I have to leave my room, I request Bob take me. We bonded over our love of apple pie and eating nachos on Sunday while we watch the games.
Bob does what I ask and takes us down to the cafeteria. I’ve become a regular here, using this as an excuse to get out of my room as much as possible. The day Dr. Colby gave me the okay to move around, I’ve been bugging my family to get me out of my room. My mom all but freaked out though, afraid I’d catch an infection or something, but my chest is healed, if not still sore. I’m not sure the pain I feel there will ever subside.
“Hey Peyton, I see you conned Bob into bringing you down for lunch.”
“It doesn’t take much when I promise him some pie,” I tell Susie, who hands me a tray. I set it on my lap and point to the things I want, making sure I have two of each item. Bob never picks up food he wants to eat. I think it goes against some hospital code or something, so I make sure to double up. I have no idea what he actually likes to eat, aside from nachos. Unless of course he’s only eating those to appease me, which could very well be the case.
I tell the cashier to put everything on my tab, aka, my hospital bill, which I have no doubt has exceeded seven digits by now. I know my parents are looking forward to discharge day. No more taking turns sleeping in my room and living out of a hotel.
“So who do you think will win the Super Bowl?” I ask Bob, in between bites of chicken and some pasta dish we picked up.
“Patriots. The goat is just too good.”
“Hmm, you’re probably right. You know he’s one of the lowest paid QB’s in the league.”
“That’s because he cares about this team and keeps restructuring his contract so the Pats can spend money elsewhere,” Bob says. Our first Sunday of football watching, he told me he was injured his senior year and couldn’t recover in time for the Scouting Combine. His degree is in communications, but it’s rather difficult to get a job as a broadcaster when he has nothing to show for himself where his career is concerned.
“I’m getting sprung any day now. Are you going to miss me?”
He shakes his head. “Nope. Since meeting you I’ve gained fifteen pounds.” For a minute I think he’s serious until he starts laughing so hard, people around us are staring. “I’m only kidding. Yeah, I’m going to miss you. You’re fun to hang out with. When are you getting discharged?”
“I don’t know. I imagine any day now that my casts have been changed. I feel like I’m living here permanently.”
“Back to L.A.?”
“My parents don’t actually live in L.A. but on the outskirts, and I’ve never called it my home. We have a house on the beach, it’s pretty cool, but it takes forever to get anywhere, so I normally hang out at home.”
“Except you’ll be going to rehab with the best therapist in the country.”
When Bob met Xander, his eyes bugged out. Bob went on and on about how amazing and sought after my uncle is. “Only because he’s my uncle.”
“Your dad would’ve paid for him.”
“Probably.”
Bob and I finish up and he takes me back to my room. He helps me get settled and promises to come by before his shift ends. This is when the depression settles in. It’s when I’m alone my thoughts run rampant about what Noah’s doing right now. Part of me is happy we haven’t spoken, but the emotional part is hurt and pissed off. He owes me an explanation, yet I don’t want to hear what he has to say. I think if he were to tell me he chose Dessie, I’d lose it. He’s right to be with her if she’s having his baby.
But, feeling this way doesn’t help the darkness stay away, and this is the only time I can let my emotions out. The tears come easily, hot streams down my face. I don’t bother to wipe them away until I’ve had a good cry. This is a daily occurrence for me. I hate it, but I can’t stop it. I don’t know what I’m going to do when I move in with my parents and can’t hide from them.
“Knock, kn
ock.”
“Just a sec.” I scramble to wipe my face, knowing it’ll be no use. I turn over, onto my back, surprised to see Ben standing in my doorway. “Ben! Hey, what’re you doing here?”
“Well, I’m the lucky one who gets to deliver you some news.” Ben chooses to sit on the edge of my bed as opposed to the chair. Not that I blame him. I’ve heard enough about that stupid hard plastic chair to last me a lifetime.
“What’s that?”
“Tomorrow, you’re out of here!” He throws his hands up in the air.
“No way… wait, why are you telling me?”
“Well, it seems your mom and sister are packing up your room, and your dad is making the necessary arrangements to fly us back to California.”
“Well, this is great.” I try to smile, but by the look on his face, I’m not fooling anyone.
“Wanna tell me what’s wrong?”
“I’m in love with someone who doesn’t or can’t love me back,” I blurt out, only to feel a bit of relief. Maybe talking about Noah is the right thing to do.
“Noah?”
I nod. “He told me he loves me but he’s with Dessie and I don’t understand, except I do because she’s pregnant, but if you love someone…”
“You’re supposed to set them free or whatever. I know how you feel, Peyton. Believe me, I really do.”
“Because you love my sister?”
His eyes go wide, nodding slowly. It’s not like any of us haven’t figured it out, except for Elle. She seems to be blind or completely obtuse when it comes to Ben. It stinks because we love Ben, and we want them together.
I scoot over and invite Ben to sit next to me. He does, stretching his long legs out in front of him. Even sitting like this, I feel like a shrimp next to him. “Your sister is seeing someone. I don’t know who because she won’t tell me.”
Holding Onto Forever (The Beaumont Series: Next Generation Book 1) Page 14