The Day That Saved Us (26 page)

WHEN I WAKE
up I don’t get out of bed. I stare at the ceiling of my old bedroom with my arm behind my head. It baffles me—and everyone else—that my mom never sold this place and moved far away. Every day she has to look next door and see the love of her life with her ex-best friend. But she refused to lose the house my brother and I grew up in. And I don’t think she wants them to think they won. Though I don’t think anyone won in this situation. Everyone lost something.

“Just because this house holds memories with him, doesn’t mean I should have to move. It’s ours. I won’t give up a part of my history because he decided it wasn’t what he wanted,” she once said to me. “It’s what I wanted. I’ll cherish this house until the day I die.”

At first, I thought she kept the house because she hoped he’d come back, but now I know even if he did attempt to come crawling back, she wouldn’t let him. She’s done with that period of her life. She asked him to move out. She served him with the divorce papers. All things he did willingly.

Our last summer in Hatteras plays like a broken record in my head all the time. Sometimes my brain gives me the good parts—the parts where Peyton smiled at me, the times when she kissed me, the feel of her arms wrapped around my body, the sound of her laughter—but days like today, all I see is the bad.

When I had come up the boardwalk and into the beach house that day, I’d nearly walked in on my parents kissing, but it hadn’t been right. It’d been my dad, but not my mom. It had been Olivia. I’d stopped and quickly, but quietly, taken a step back. They had been too wrapped up in a passionate embrace to even notice I was there.

“Stop,” Olivia said, pushing him back. And I slipped behind the corner, out of sight. “Nick, we can’t do this right now. It isn’t right.”

“Liv, it’s our time.”

“I know, but this summer…this summer is all we have left, and it’s almost over. Tate’s not just your wife. She’s my best friend.”

“You know, I loved you first.”

She groaned. “It’s not some competition. You might have loved me first, but you gave me to him. I moved on with my life. You moved on with yours. Just because Jon is gone doesn’t mean that it’s paved the way for our future.”

“Then why do you keep kissing me back?”

“Because I miss him! Because you’ve always been there for me. Because I’m so lost without him I don’t know what to do with myself!”

“It’s more than that, and you know it, Liv. You’re lying to yourself. You love me. If you didn’t you wouldn’t keep kissing me back.”

“Stop it, Nick. You’re taking advantage of the situation, and you know it.”

“So what if I am? You love me, and I love you, Olivia. I always have. I’ve waited twenty-five years. I’ve regretted not taking a chance since the day you met Jon. ”

“You introduced us!” she bellows.

“He was my roommate. Of course I introduced you. So we could all be friends! Not so you could fall in love with him!”

I couldn’t listen any longer. I’d bolted. I’d taken off down the beach and had dropped onto the sand, needing the waves to bring me back, to center me. My mind had to catch up with all that I’d witnessed.

He
destroyed everything.

I knew from that day forward everything would change. Peyton and I would never be the same. I had been so furious after seeing them—after what he’d done—I’d wanted to hurt him the only way I’d known how. By not going to Duke.

So much for that revenge. I thought I’d finally forgiven him. It took me a few years, but I thought I’d gotten over it. I understood on some level what my dad felt. I couldn’t imagine watching Peyton love another man, marrying another man, and having to spend every day knowing I did nothing. It hadn’t excused what my dad did, but I’d understood it.

After last night, I hate him all over again. I fought for Peyton and she still wouldn’t be mine. I’d have to watch her marry another man, have his children, grow old with him…all because our parents fell in love. Life can be so cruel and perverse.

So, this is it. Time to implement the pact I made with myself.

“HEY, TURD BISCUIT.”
Carter knocks once before barging into my room. “Wake up. Mom wants to talk to you.”

“Well, good morning to you too, snot nugget.” I yawn and stretch before sitting up on one of my elbows. “What does she want?”

“How am I supposed to know? She just told me to come get you. So get your lazy hiney out of bed.” I throw a pillow at the wall by his head as he laughs and ducks out of my room.

When I walk downstairs, she’s in the kitchen, sipping her coffee. I sit up on a barstool at the counter.

“Morning,” I greet.

My mom passes me a cup of coffee. “How are you holding up?” She leans over the countertop with her coffee mug in hand and a robe tied around her waist.

I raise my eyebrow in question. “Fine. Why?”

“I mean with Peyton and Tyler.”

I run my hand down my face, desperately not wanting to have this conversation right now. I’d rather plan my own funeral than have this conversation.
How does she think I’m doing?

“It’s great. I’m really happy for her.” Even I can hear my big fat lies. I know I should be happy for Peyton. I know I should be long over this. I know Brooke is a future any man would be lucky to have.
I’m
lucky to have her. And yet, my heart feels like a steamroller has leveled it.

“Don’t underestimate my instincts. I’m your mother. I know all.”

Resting my elbows on the countertop, I lean forward. “What makes you think it bothers me?”

“When Peyton made the announcement, and then told me you’d gone home after I asked where you were…I knew.”

We don’t talk about us. Peyton and me. It was clear after that summer anything to do with Peyton was off limits. My mom had been rooting for us then, but how could you continue to root for your son and the daughter of the woman who had an affair with your husband?

“I don’t know how I expected this to all pan out, but it definitely didn’t end with losing her to him.”

She nods her understanding. “Do you think she still loves you?”

I wish I knew. That would make this so much easier.

“She won’t allow herself.” Mom’s eyes turn down and her head tilts. I hate the sadness in them because I know it seeps out of mine. “She refuses to be with the son of the man who betrayed her dad and destroyed her family. And she’s too afraid of what everyone else would think.”

“Do not tell me she holds you accountable for the things your father did.” Her eyes narrow. Mama Bear is emerging.

Wrong move. I shouldn’t have said that. “It was enough that she wouldn’t be with me, but not enough to sever our friendship. She said it a long time ago. Forget I mentioned it. I don’t even know why I said it.”

She sighs deeply, not wanting to let it go, but moving on. “And the other part? Do you care what other people might think?”

“Psh. I couldn’t care less. No matter what the law says, she’s not my…
sister
,” I choke on the word. “I
hate
calling her that. We’re grown adults. Harper’s closer to being my sister than Peyton is.”

“You know we would never judge you two, right?”

“It doesn’t matter even if you did,” I mutter.

“I was really rooting for you, brother.” Carter claps his hand on my shoulder before walking to the fridge. I’m not even sure when he came downstairs.

My mom smiles, but it’s the smile of someone who knows it won’t make a difference, so it sits gloomily on her face, trying to look happy and encouraging. Pity. That’s all I see. This conversation needs to end.

“Whatever. I’m fine. I am. I love Brooke. I really do.” I didn’t believe it was possible to love two people. And then Brooke came along. I’ve held onto an impossibility for far too long. It’s time I move on. Brooke has made me realize it’s okay to open my heart to something more.

“I’m really excited to meet this Brooke Whitaker you’ve spoken of for months,” she says, optimistic. “If she’s lasted this long, she’s obviously something great.”

“She is,” I agree. “She’s smart and fun and beautiful. I think you’ll love her.”

“I know I will.”

“If she’s hot, you know I will,” Carter says as he swipes the back of his hand across his mouth and sets the milk carton back in the fridge.
Gross
.

“Don’t pretend like your standards are high. If it’s a female with legs and a good butt, you’re sold.”

“Don’t forget that she has to have a nice rack.” He burps.

Mom smacks him upside the head. “If you talk like that about another girl again, you’ll wish I never gave birth to you.”

He ducks away from her, chuckling. “Yes, ma’am.” When he passes me, he pretends like he’s grabbing two gigantic melons over his pecs.

“Carter Nicholas!” Mom maneuvers around the counter, but he bolts for the stairs before she can lay another hand on him, snickering all the way up. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

“What am I going to do with that boy?” she groans.

I shake my head and laugh to myself. “When he falls in love one day, he’ll learn.”

“If he makes it to that day. He’ll be lucky to make it until tomorrow.”

I’M WORKING ON
my accounting homework, debating on whacking my head against my textbook when my phone lights up on my nightstand. My heart tightens when I see Peyton’s smiling face staring up at me. I took a picture of her when she caught a fish in Hatteras. She’s standing on the pier, grinning from ear-to-ear, so proud of herself.

Unhurriedly, I pick it up and run my finger across the screen, hovering over the accept button. I debate answering. If I had the volume up, I’m sure the ring would be on the last one when I finally do hit accept. “Hey.”

“Hi.” Her voice is a mixture of relief and hesitation. I imagine her having the same battle as me, and regretting placing the call in the first place.

A beat of quiet passes before I ask, “How’s it goin’?”

“It’s okay.” Her voice is very soft, very un-Peyton like. There’s something on the tip of her tongue, but she stops herself. “We haven’t talked in a few weeks.”

Meaning:
We haven’t talked since I told you I hold our parents’ affair against you.
Clearing my throat, I lie, “Yeah, I’ve been swamped with midterms and stuff. Haven’t had much time for anything but school.” Technically, it’s only a partial lie. I have been busy with all those things, but I’ve never been too busy for Peyton before.

She tries to make her tone light. “Yeah, work is kicking my trash, and my sociology class is so much harder than I thought it would be.” It falls flat.

“Yeah.”

When more silence carries on between us, she says, “Brodee, I’m sorry about what I said.”

I fiddle with the pen in my hand, running it up and down the tops of my fingers. “Sorry that you said it? Or sorry that you meant it?”

I can hear her breathing, attempting to think of the right thing to say. “I shouldn’t have said it. It’s just difficult. You know? I know you’re not him. You could never be Nick.”

I restrain my snort. “What a relief.”

She hurries on, “That came out wrong. That’s not what I meant. There’s just so much connecting us. I needed one of the strings to be severed. One that I could control. I can’t manage all the strings. They strangle me.” Peyton pauses. “Does that make any sense?”

I’m a string that strangles her. Her insults keep getting better. “Yeah, maybe some distance would do us some good.”

She doesn’t respond right away. I want to hang up. I don’t want to hear her answer, because I already know what it will be. The distance we’ve had over these last few weeks was torture enough. But then her silence lengthens for so long, I want her to say anything. Anything would be better than nothing. “Maybe…I dunno.”

“Right.”

“Can I still come to see you next weekend?”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” I thought I could do it, put a hold on my feelings until the timing was right, but it sounds so much easier than it is. I need more time.

“Brodee, we talked about this. You knew when you left for Duke this wasn’t going to go anywhere. Why are you changing on me now? I still need my best friend. I need you so badly. You’re the only other person who understands what I’m going through. Why can’t we still be there for one another?”

“Because if I thought time was all you needed, it would be different, but I know you. I know it won’t change anything. I want so badly for time to heal all our wounds, but it’s going to take a lot more than that to fix what we’ve been through.”

She pauses. When she speaks, I hear the tears in her voice. It shakes. “I just want to go back.”

If only that was an option. I would do so many things differently. A piece of me thinks if I knew what I know now, I’d never have kissed her on that beach. I would have walked away and never thought twice about it. But another piece knows not everyone gets the opportunity to have what we did. There are people who dream of having what we did, if only for a moment.

“Me too. Good luck with your sociology class, Peyton.”

“Wait, Brodee.” Her breath trembles. “I
need
you today.”

I can’t handle the whiplash. “Well, I really need you every day, but I can’t have that. You can’t have it both ways. Make up your dang mind, Peyton.”

“I’ll let you go then.” She hangs up before I can say anything else.

When I see that she disconnected the call, I throw my phone across the room. I regret it instantly.
Never take it out on the expensive stuff, Brodee.
I cross my room to pick it up. There’s a crack across the screen, right through the date. October 3
rd
.
Son-of-a…
I don’t know what a gunshot to the chest feels like, but I imagine it’s similar to this. It’s the one-year anniversary of her dad’s death.

I’m the world’s biggest prick.

My finger hits SEND. She doesn’t say a word when she answers, but I know she’s there because I hear her quivering breath.

“I’m so sorry, Peyton. I didn’t even realize…it’s today.” I hear her sniffle, but she remains silent. “I’m
so
sorry
. I take back everything I said. I’m a selfish jerk who doesn’t deserve your forgiveness.”

She chuckles through her tears, but it sounds more like she’s choking. “Yeah, you are.”

“Sorry doesn’t even cover it. If only I’d been thinking more clearly. I would’ve picked up on it sooner. I would’ve known.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not.” There’s nothing I can say to make it okay, but I remain on the line and let her cry. If that’s all she needs from me, I can give her that much. My stillness.