Escaping Heartbreak

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Escaping Heartbreak Page 14

by Regina Bartley

“Yes, right now.” I was serious.

  The line was silent for too long a moment. I was getting a bit antsy. “Be there in a minute,” she finally spoke, then she hung up.

  I was still sitting on the back porch wearing nothing but my boxer briefs. I hadn’t had a shower, shaved, or anything. I rushed in the house to get myself together a bit. I set my coffee on the counter and started up the stairs. But the knock on the door already sounded. How the hell did she get here so quick?

  I opened the door, and she stood there wearing what looked like pajamas. She had on sweatpants, and an old t-shirt. Her hair looked like it hadn’t been brushed. She was as big a mess as I was. She looked nervous. Her big brown eyes were weary.

  “What’s wrong?” I lifted her chin up with my fingertips.

  She took a deep breath and bit down hard on her bottom lip. It did crazy things to my insides. “I was already on my way here, before you asked me?” She said shyly. She was embarrassed to admit it. Talk about chest pounding pride. If I had a shirt on, I would have ripped it off and growled.

  “Come here you,” I picked her up off the ground and hugged her close. My head was buried in her hair and her arms wrapped tightly around my neck. “You were coming to see me?” I asked and she nodded her head. I let her down slowly and pulled her into the house. The neighbors seeing me in my underwear isn’t a good message to send.

  “You were right.” She said. “I did miss your bed.”

  “It missed you too.” I pulled her close to me again. “God, you look beautiful.” Her breathing was heavy, and her tongue lightly brushed against her lip. I couldn’t wait another second, I took her lips with mine, and showed her just how much I missed her. Massaging her tongue with mine, I heard her moan. It made me kiss her harder. I wanted this girl so bad.

  She broke the kiss, and took a minute to catch her breath. I wouldn’t let her get too far though. I hugged her against my chest.

  “Travis,” her voice was low. “I don’t know how to do this.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Us,” she said, her body still pressed tight against mine. “I’ve never been in a relationship, at least nothing over two dates.

  I smiled. My head resting on the top of her head. “There aren’t any rules Sawyer. We can do this any way you want to do it. Just as long as we are both in this together. And I want to be able to call you my girlfriend.”

  She looked up at me. “Your girlfriend.”

  “Yeah, my girlfriend.” I replied.

  “I like the way that sounds.” She responded.

  We stood there wrapped in each other’s arms for as long as we could. She wanted to leave before Waylon woke up. I didn’t want to let her go. Of course, she won, but asked if the two of us wanted to come by her house later that day. I agreed. I couldn’t get enough of her, or those gorgeous lips.

  ###

  The weekend passed in a blur, along with the following week, and the next. Things were unbelievable. I still hadn’t discussed with her the situation with my mom, but it just hadn’t come up. Not that I expected it too. I was certainly keeping my mouth shut, scared that I’d push her away. She was still tutoring Waylon, and twice a week they were doing home tutoring. I could not believe how much enthusiasm he had been showing. He was really working hard to bring his grades up. It was a first, and all thanks to Sawyer. They were a team. She also cooked us supper and agreed to have Waylon over for fishing on the weekend. We hadn’t spent the night together again, but it wasn’t because we didn’t want to. Or at least not because I didn’t want to. It just hadn’t worked out in our favor. I was working extra hours and trying to spend my free time with Waylon.

  Today was the scheduled day for Mom to show up for her visit. I’d been worried sick about it. I hadn’t told anyone, not even Waylon. I had a feeling deep in the pit of my stomach, that if I told him he’d freak out. Or maybe he’d be glad. I wasn’t sure which would be worse and I didn’t want to take the chance and find out.

  When I heard a knock on the door, I knew it was her. Before I even opened it, I regretted my decision. It was not going to be good for Waylon. What the fuck was I thinking? I guess I was hoping that she’d changed. I found out that I was wrong as soon as I opened the door.

  She looked horrible. Her face was sunken in and her hair was so thin that you could see through it. She looked forty years older than she was. It was sickening. Her damn collarbones were sticking out. She was nothing but skin and bones.

  “Son,” her lip was twitching and her hands were shaking horribly.

  I stepped out on the porch careful so that Waylon could not hear us. “I told you not to show up drunk.” I hissed.

  “I’m not drunk,” she could barely form a sentence.

  “Then you’re fucking high or something. I want you to leave. Leave now. I don’t want Waylon seeing you like this.”

  “You told me if I came then I could see my son.” She pleaded. The stone cold look in her eyes told me that she wasn’t here for Waylon.

  “Not like this. You screwed up. I want you gone now, and don’t you ever come back.” My voice rose.

  “WAYLON!” She yelled around me, trying to make him hear her.

  “GO NOW!” I screamed, “Or I will call the police.” The look of terror on her face was enough to make her leave. She knew what they’d do to her if I told them the truth.

  She got into the passenger side of the brown, rusted vehicle that was parked in my driveway. The person driving sped off in a hurry. I turned around to go back in the house only to find Waylon standing in the doorway.

  I knew that look on his face was fury, and hurt. And deep down in those eyes was fear. I felt awful. I should have never brought her here. I should have never allowed her back in.

  “Waylon I’m-”

  “DON’T!” he yelled. I could see the tears in his eyes. I had royally fucked up this time. “How could you Travis. After all this time, and everything she’s done. GOD!” He gritted his teeth.

  “I’m sorry,” I reached for him, but he jerked away.

  “I said don’t,” his mouth closed tightly and his jaw clenched. “You know how much I hate that woman. I never thought you’d let her come here. You’re my brother. Don’t you care?”

  “Just listen to me Waylon,” I wanted him to understand how bad I felt for allowing her to come. It was wrong on so many levels.

  He walked past me to the porch. “I can’t listen to your bull-crap excuses. I’ll be at Andy’s” He stomped off, and never looked back.

  I should have stopped him to explain, but I’d knew it would be a waste of time. He needed to cool off. He had a temper just like me and I could tell that he was about to explode. Time would help. I hoped.

  Defeated, I walked inside and sat down on the couch. It would take him a long time to forgive me for this. I wished I’d never agreed to let her come. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I slammed my fist hard down on the coffee table.

  TWENTY THREE

  Sawyer

  A knock at the door startled me. I wasn’t expecting visitors, so I didn’t know who could be here. It was nearly dark outside, so I hesitantly walked to the door and peeked out the peephole to see Waylon standing there. I quickly opened the door, confused at why he was there.

  “Waylon, what is going on? What are you doing here?” Before he even spoke to me, he turned around and waved at the silver SUV that began backing out of my driveway. “Come on,” I motioned for him to come in off of the porch. The sun was already setting.

  We walked over to the couch to sit down. He still hadn’t spoken, but I could tell something was wrong. He wasn’t his usual self. The sadness on his face was worrying me. I inched my way to him and placed my arm around his shoulder. Where was Travis I wondered?

  “Andy’s mom and dad dropped me off.” The look on his face was still distant.

  “Where is Travis?” I asked. He hadn’t called.

  “We had a fight.” He confessed, never looking anywhere but the carpet. I learned
that this is what he did when he was upset, never looking someone in the eyes, for fear that they might see what he was really feeling. I didn’t know if this was a teenage boy thing, or a Waylon thing.

  “Does he know that you’re here?” I was worrying again.

  “He thinks I’m at Andy’s.” He whispered, never lifting his head.

  “I see. Well, do you want to talk about it?” I questioned.

  “Not really,” he answered.

  “How about something to drink?” I asked, distracting the both of us for a minute so that I could wrap my head around what to do.

  “Sure.”

  I walked swiftly into the kitchen and figured I’d better text Travis and tell him that Waylon was here.

  Me: I don’t want you to worry, but Waylon is here.

  Travis: How did he get there?

  Me: Andy’s parents, but don’t rush over just yet. He’s upset. Just give him a little runaway time. Please

  Travis: Okay. I’ll be there soon. Thanks babe.

  Me: Of course. See you soon.

  I hurried back to the living room, taking Waylon his soda. He seemed to be a little more relaxed. He’d already turned on the T.V.

  “If you feel like talking about it, I’ll listen.”

  “My mom came to the house today,” he peeked at me once and then looked away.

  “Is that a bad thing?” I was confused. I thought his mom was no longer around.

  “Yes.” He shifted nervously in his seat. “I don’t like my mom. And Travis told her it was okay to come. Why would he do that? Why?” He was clearly getting upset again.

  His poor heart seemed broken. I felt helpless. “I don’t know, but maybe you could talk to your brother about it. I’m sure that he didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” He became defensive again.

  “Okay, we don’t have to.” I responded quickly

  “Can we watch a movie?” He asked, changing the subject.

  “Only if you rub my feet,” I started to lift me feet up on the couch.

  “Ew, gross.” He rolled his eyes at me but laughed soon after. He was easy for me to joke with, and I was glad to lighten the mood.

  He chose a Spider-man movie, but didn’t even make it through the previews before he’d fallen asleep. Poor boy was worn out. I’m sure he was mentally exhausted, and he had good reason to be. I worried about him the same way I worried about Dane, or Uncle Jake. He was a part of my family now.

  I took the throw from the back of the couch and covered him up. I knew we all had our heartbreaks, but he was so young. And to hold such dislike for his mother baffled me.

  I heard a car door slam outside. Travis was here. I met him at the door, so that he wouldn’t knock and wake up Waylon.

  He looked so defeated. So sad. His head hung, and his shoulders were slumped. The look in his eyes told me how severely he was hurting. My heart broke for him. I wrapped my arms around him, making sure that he knew that I was here for him.

  “How is he?” He asked as we walked inside.

  “He seems better. He’s asleep though.” I pointed to the couch as we entered the living room. “He didn’t even get to watch his movie. He hasn’t been asleep long, maybe fifteen minutes.” I whispered and led Travis to the kitchen. Without even thinking, I went to the coffee pot to start a fresh pot. I couldn’t get much out of Waylon. Travis had better start spilling some details.

  He sat down on the bar stool and placed his elbows on the counter. He sighed and said, “I guess he told you what happened.”

  “Some,” I hesitated. “I was hoping that you’d fill me in on the rest.” I pressed the button to start the coffee. I walked around the bar and stood between his legs so that we were close. He needed me, and I wanted to be his support. I was good at taking care of people. It’s just what I did.

  “I guess all of my secrets will finally be out of the bag.” His voice was aggressive, almost angry. “You’ll fucking hate me… like Waylon does?”

  “Whoa, what? Waylon doesn’t hate you, and I won’t either.” I reached up and put my hands on his cheeks so that his eyes were focused on mine. “And your secrets are YOUR secrets. You don’t have to tell me anything.” I explained, as I rubbed the top of his legs. The tension still didn’t leave his face.

  “That’s just it. I have to tell somebody. It’s eating me alive.” His breaths were heavy, and his face was red. I wasn’t sure if he was mad at himself, or me. He reached for and grabbed the top of my arms lightly pushing me back so that he could get up. I had never seen him like this. I was concerned. His forehead was sweaty, as he paced the floor.

  “Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

  “No, no, no!” He smacked both of his hand to his head. “It’s not okay.”

  “Shh, you’ll wake Waylon.” I raised both my hands in an attempt to try and calm him down, but nothing was working.

  “My mom came to my house today.” He began.

  “I know. Waylon told me.” I said.

  “Please,” he held up a hand. “Please don’t speak. I need to get this out.” His eyes pleaded with me. It felt like he was begging me. I nodded. “She came today, because I told her she could. For some unknown reason, I felt like she might have changed. I was willing to give her another chance even after what she did. I didn’t fucking think about how Waylon would feel.” He rubbed his face and took a deep breath. There was a catch in his voice when he tried to speak again, as if he was fighting back tears. He couldn’t cry. I’d lose it.

  “When my dad died Waylon was nine, and a scrawny little thing. He took my dad’s death hard. He couldn’t understand why he died.” He shook his head. “There were many nights he’d cry himself to sleep.” He paused for a moment. “My mom just fell off the grid when dad passed. It was awful. She started drinking heavily on top of taking her anti-depressant pills. It was really messing with her head. Sometimes I felt like she had two personalities. You know?” Not really, but he needed my reassurance He stood in front of me and looked like a lost little boy. One that missed him mom, not the grown man that was responsible for a child.

  He looked at me for answers. I could only nod. I wanted him to continue.

  His breathing was erratic.

  “She did something horrible. God,” He looked up at the ceiling and blew out a huge puff of air.

  “Who?” I asked in barely a whisper.

  “My mom. One night while Waylon was asleep, she did the most horrible thing. He was sleeping on the floor in her bedroom because he was still having nightmares. She,” he started but could barely catch his breath at this point. “She went into the bathroom that was attached to her bedroom. She filled the bathtub with water. All the way to the rim. Oh God. I can’t believe I am saying this.” He looked at me and the tears rolled down his cheeks. I sat there silently willing my tears to stay away. I had to be strong for him. But it was too much. Seeing him like that was breaking my freaking heart.

  “She dragged Waylon into the bathroom. And somehow she got him into the tub.”

  I gasped. Oh god.

  “When I came in, she had her hands around his neck and his head was under water. I could see his eyes open. He was struggling. She kept screaming. It’s your fault. It’s your fault. He can’t swim Sawyer. He can’t fucking swim.” He pounded his fists into my kitchen wall and fell to the ground. His body shook, and he cried. Hard. I ran to him and wrapped my arms around him. I was crying so hard I could barely see.

  He kept repeating, “Please don’t hate me.”

  “I don’t hate you. Why would I hate you?”

  “Because I let her get away. My mother tried to kill my brother and I let her go.” He looked at me with his tear stained face. His eyes were so heavy and filled with such despair.

  “Oh Travis. Don’t do this to yourself. She’s your mother.” I wiped the tears from his face. Suddenly my problems didn’t seem so big.

  “When I saved Waylon that night, I told her to run.
I told her to leave and never come back. I didn’t call the police. I took Waylon to the emergency room to be checked out, and I told the doctors that it was an accident. They didn’t believe me. Until, Waylon lied to. I made him fucking lie, to save her when she tried to kill him. I am such a horrible person. How can you even look at me? How can Waylon even look at me?” He yelled.

  “Travis, please. Listen to me.-”

  “I even let the bitch come back today, thinking that she had changed. How many times can I let her hurt him, before I do something about it? I love him Sawyer. He probably hates me.”

  “No, he doesn’t. He loves you,” I reasoned.

  “Really,” Waylon’s voice broke through... He was standing in the corner of the kitchen.

  “Waylon,” Travis said.

  “No one knows about that Travis, and you told her. It was our secret. You said that we’d never talk about it again.” Waylon was yelling.

  I knew what the young boy couldn’t understand. That the pressure of the secret was just too much for Travis to hold on to. He had to tell someone.

  “Waylon listen.” Travis tried to speak to him, but he just got more upset.

  “I can’t believe you.” Waylon pointed at Travis. “Typical Travis right. Always disappointing someone.” I closed my eyes tightly at Waylon’s words. I knew that they would cut Travis like a knife.

  Waylon opened the sliding glass door, and both Travis and I stood up to try and talk to him. But he was so mad. Before we could say anything, he took off running. I looked at Travis. He was broken. They both were.

  We stepped out onto the porch to follow Waylon.

  The night was dark, and I couldn’t see where he was going.

  Then.

  I.

  Heard.

  The.

  Splash.

  “WAYLON!” I screamed. He fell. It was dark and he fell into the lake.

  “He can’t swim.” Travis yelled as he ran.

  Oh no. I sprinted and passed Travis up. I was a swimmer. I had to save him. I could hear his cry for help. I reached the end of the dock and without hesitation I jumped in. The water was bitter cold. I couldn’t see him in the darkness of the night, but I could hear him. Thankfully that was enough. I got to him quickly.

 

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