Beautiful Sacrifice

  "I don't feel Zen. I feel hurt and angry and betrayed. Our flight leaves at three, and until then, we're here together with your family. Flipping out on you won't solve anything."

  He watched me for a moment. "So, what? You're going to dump me as soon as we get back stateside?"

  "I don't know."

  He sighed. "I'm sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry for betraying you. I'm sorry for making you angry. If you give me another chance, it will never happen again."

  "I believe you," I said.

  He sat on the sand next to me, slipped his fingers between mine, and kissed my knuckles.

  After half an hour of silence, Trenton and Camille joined us. Not long after that, Travis came down, alone. He didn't speak and sat two chairs away, staring at the ocean.

  "Uh-oh," Trenton said, standing up to walk over to his brother.

  Taylor squeezed my hand and then joined the other two men. They chatted quietly but mostly sat in silence, all seeming to stare at the same point in the water.

  "I ran into Travis this morning," I said to Camille.

  "You did?" she asked. "Where?"

  "He was on his way to Thomas's room. Think it has anything to do with that?"

  "Thomas?" she paused, pensive. "No," she said. "I don't."

  I could tell by the finality in her voice that she was lying. She had dated Thomas before. She knew things, including what had happened in that room.

  Travis left abruptly, and Taylor returned to his seat.

  "Is he okay?" I asked.

  Taylor seemed concerned. "I don't know. He wouldn't say anything."

  Camille was pretending not to be listening, so I said exactly what I wanted her to hear.

  "For a family who looks so close on the outside, you all sure have a lot of secrets," I said.

  Taylor sank back. "I guess so."

  "Seems like you're the only one capable of telling the truth." As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I regretted them.

  Taylor was wrong. I wasn't Zen. Lashing out and low blows weren't something I'd thought I was capable of, but that didn't seem to be the case at the moment.

  Camille turned to me, incensed. "Just because you love someone doesn't mean you have to spill everything you know."

  "I guess it depends on who the secrets affect, don't you think?" I asked, still unable to extinguish my anger.

  Camille's opened mouth snapped shut, and she found the same spot in the ocean the boys had been staring at before, clenching her teeth. She didn't seem particularly angry with me. It was more like she was frustrated with whatever secret she was keeping.

  "So, you know why Travis is upset," I said to Camille. "But you haven't told Trenton because it has to do with Thomas?"

  Taylor looked to Camille for confirmation, and she looked to me, desperate for me to stop.

  My mouth pulled to the side. "I'm sorry. None of this is directed at you." I sighed. "We all have secrets, Cami. We just have to make sure keeping them doesn't hurt the people we love."

  Camille watched me for a long time, and then her eyes returned to the ocean, filling with salty tears.

  "What the hell is going on around here?" Taylor asked, his head moving back and forth between Camille and me.

  "We should probably get some breakfast and then start packing. We have to leave for the airport by ... what do you think? Noon?" I asked.

  "Yeah," Taylor said, still concerned over Camille. He stood, holding out his hand for me.

  I took it and followed him to Bleuwater, the primary dining venue on the property.

  Taylor was quiet, eating his omelet, lost in thought while he chewed.

  "Who was she?" I asked.

  Taylor stopped chewing.

  I wrinkled my nose and shook my head. "Don't answer that."

  "She wasn't you."

  "Nope," I said before clenching my teeth.

  He was waiting patiently as the anger boiled inside of me. He knew as well as I did what was coming.

  "Four days? Really?" I hissed.

  Taylor stared at his plate.

  "Say something," I said.

  "There is nothing to say. I have no excuse. I fucked up."

  "You said a week. That's what you said. You couldn't even make it to your own deadline before you were swiping your player's card in someone else's slot."

  He nodded.

  "Don't fucking nod at me. Don't just sit there and take it."

  He looked up at me. "What do you want me to say? I'm sitting here, scared to death that you're going to kick me to the curb, and there's not a damn thing I can do because we both know I deserve it, Falyn. So, I'm just going to keep my fucking head down."

  "How am I supposed to respond to that?"

  He opened his mouth to speak and then thought better of it.

  I sat back in my chair, fuming, and at the same time, the guilt and anguish in his eyes was hard to watch. He already felt bad. He already knew it was wrong. He was already sorry. I was angry with him for all of those things, too. I deserved a guilt-free moment of anger, and he couldn't even give me that.

  I covered my face, unable to finish my meal.

  "Do you want me to just get the check?" he asked, sounding miserable.

  I could only nod.

  "Jesus Christ," he whispered. "Everything was so good. How did we get here?"

  Once we finished breakfast, we returned to the room, packed, and then made the jaunt to the lobby for checkout. The entrance was abuzz with activity--people coming and going, employees busy with guests.

  "We should have a car waiting outside," Taylor said to the desk clerk.

  "All right," she said. "You're all set. I hope you enjoyed your stay at The Ritz-Carlton and that you come back to visit us soon."

  "Thank you," Taylor said.

  He carried our bags outside and greeted the same driver who had collected me from the airport.

  Taylor stared out the window for most of the drive to Charlotte Amalie, and he only spoke when necessary once we reached the airport.

  "Two hours early," I said, reading my watch.

  Taylor sat next to me at our gate, but he otherwise acted as if I were just another traveler in the terminal. An airplane headed for New York was boarding. We were so early that the monitor above the desk didn't reflect our flight.

  I checked my watch several times, curious if he was worried about his family or me or both and if I should try to talk to him about it or leave him to his thoughts.

  An infant squalled somewhere behind us, and like so many other times when I'd heard a newborn, something twinged in my chest. Families were all around us, exasperated mothers and fathers trying their best to keep their tired, bored toddlers entertained.

  I wondered if Taylor would ever watch children with longing the way I did, if he'd even have to because of our rough start, and if the weekend in St. Thomas was the beginning of our end.

  "Taylor," I said.

  He pulled his finger from his mouth, spitting out a hangnail. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to ignore you. I just have a lot on my mind."

  "Do you want to talk about Travis?" I asked.

  "No, I want to talk about us. Are you just waiting? Are you going to drop a bomb on me when we get home?"

  He looked at me, dread in his eyes. "Are you?"

  I kept my voice low. "You fucked another woman because you were mad at me, and worse, you don't know if you used protection. I don't know how I feel about it. I don't know how I'm going to feel about it later today or tomorrow or next week. This is one of those things that we're going to have to play by ear."

  He peered down at the floor, his knee bouncing.

  "What else do you want to talk about?" I asked.

  "That's plenty."

  I craned my neck, frustrated. "What else?"

  "What you said, about all of us having secrets, is true. I don't like it."

  "I saw Travis this morning. He was fine."

  Taylor's eyebrows shot up. "Before the beach?"

 
"Yes, as I was leaving the room, he was going to see Thomas."

  Taylor thought about that and then shook his head. "Damn it. Something's going on with them. Something big. Nothing good either."

  "I think Camille has an idea of what it is."

  Taylor narrowed his eyes. "She kept it from Trenton that she was dating Thomas. She didn't tell Trent for a long time. I've always thought there was a bigger reason behind it. I mean ... we all know Cami. Trenton was in love with her for years. No one knew Thomas was dating her, and I assumed it was so we wouldn't jump his shit. Now ... I don't know. It has something to do with Travis, and that makes no sense."

  "Travis looked devastated. What would do that to him?"

  Taylor shook his head. "Losing Abby. That's about it. He just doesn't give a shit about anything else. Fuck ... do you think it's my dad? Maybe he's sick."

  I shook my head. "It wouldn't make sense for Thomas to only tell Travis, right?"

  Taylor thought for a long time, and then he sighed. "I don't know. I don't want to think about it anymore. It scares me and pisses me off. Camille shouldn't know more about my family than I do or than Trenton does. That's fucked up."

  "You can think about it. It's a distraction," I said.

  "From us?" he asked.

  I nodded.

  His shoulders fell, and he leaned forward, rubbing his temples with his fingers. "Please don't."

  I couldn't stand the misery anymore. "I love you. You said once that it's not a phrase you throw around. It's not for me either. I don't like what you did. But I don't like what I did either."

  "Just promise me, you'll try."

  "Taylor--"

  "I don't care. I don't fucking care. We have to fix this."

  "I'm not going to drop anything on you. We have a lot to talk about. If we hit a wall, you'll see it coming."

  "I do. I see it coming."

  "No, you don't," I said, exasperated.

  "You don't get it," he hissed, leaning in closer. His jaw worked under his skin. "I have never been so afraid as I was when driving back to Estes from your apartment. I've never felt so lost as I did in the hallway outside Thomas's door, waiting for him to get home. I thought I would feel better when he got there. I didn't. I thought Tommy could tell me something that would make sense of how I felt and my fears, but he couldn't. That feeling has only gotten worse, Falyn. Not until I saw you standing in that lobby did I realize what it was."

  I waited. The agony in his eyes made me want to look away.

  "It was grief, Falyn. I haven't felt it since I was a kid, but I remember that helpless feeling when you lose someone. No matter how much you love someone, you can't bring them back. No matter how much you scream or drink or beg or pray ... a hole was created when they left. It burns and rots you from the inside out until you stop crying for the pain to stop and start accepting it as the way life will be."

  I sucked in a breath, horrified.

  "I'm not saying I don't deserve to be left. But I'll do anything if you'll just give me a chance to prove myself to you. Thomas said something to me in Eakins about not sleeping with someone to dull the pain. It's no excuse, but it was a mistake, and I'll learn from it."

  I listened to his words and then replayed them in my mind. "I have conditions," I blurted out.

  "Name them," he said without hesitation.

  "You have to get tested."

  "Already scheduled."

  "I need time. I can't pretend that nothing happened."

  "Understandable."

  "I'll need patience from you if and when I have a moment of jealousy and when it takes me a little bit to remember that it was me who set this all in motion and that it's mostly my fault."

  Taylor spoke his words slowly, each one emphasized, "This is not your fault. We both fucked up. We both regret it."

  "That's about the only thing I know right now," I said.

  "No. You know we love each other. And because of that, I know things will get better."

  When I nodded, Taylor sat back in his seat, only a bit more relaxed than before. Either he didn't believe his own words, or he thought I didn't. He slid his fingers between mine, and we waited in another awkward silence until our flight was called.

  "I can't do this."

  I heard him say the words, but thirteen weeks of work and forgiveness wouldn't allow me to believe it. I sat on a chair in his Colorado Springs hotel room, the beige carpet and drapes mirroring my blank expression.

  Taylor sat on the bed with his head in his hands. He wore only a white towel around his waist, his skin still glistening from the shower.

  "You checked in two days ago," I said.

  He nodded.

  "You're going to give up now?" I asked.

  He looked up at me, frustration in his eyes. I knew then that I'd lost him. Gone was the longing, the guilt, and the patience.

  I stood up, crossing my arms. "What happened to things getting better? To making this work? To forgiveness and loving each other?"

  He didn't answer.

  "You love me," I said.

  "More than I could ever explain to you."

  "Then I don't understand!" I said, my volume surprising both of us. My eyes filled with tears. "I've worked on this. I've spent hours and weekends trying to make things better, working it out in my own head that you've had your hands ... and other things ... on another woman. I'm here, taking a chance on everything, ignoring the images in my mind that haunt me every single time we're in bed. And you're just going to quit on me? No," I said, shaking my head, realizing that I was pacing but not stopping myself. "You can't just say it's over. It's not over."

  "I didn't," he said, amused. "But this ... this is good. I'm liking this."

  I stood in the middle of the room, narrowing my eyes at him. "Then what were you talking about?"

  He sighed. "I haven't brought up the commute because ... well ... we were dealing with bigger things, and I was chickenshit." He stood up, cupping my shoulders. "But I still want that, everything we talked about before. I can't keep living apart. I want to at least be in the same city."

  I fell to the bed, holding my middle. "I thought you were ending it."

  He knelt in front of me. "Fuck no. After the weeks I've been killing myself, trying to make it up to you?"

  I shot him a dubious look. "Killing yourself?"

  He interlocked his fingers behind the small of my back, smiling. "I didn't say it wasn't enjoyable."

  He kissed my cheek, tender and sweet. I leaned into his lips, giggling.

  The landline rang, and after a moment of confusion, Taylor hopped up and held the receiver to his ear. "Hello? Yeah, that's me. Who?" When recognition lit his eyes, all the color drained from his face. "I'll, um ... I'll be right down." He hung up the phone.

  "Everything all right?" I asked.

  "The desk clerk said that a woman is waiting for me in the lounge. Alyssa Davies."

  I shrugged and shook my head, having no recollection of the name.

  "It's the woman I ... from San Diego."

  "She's here?" I asked, standing.

  "I guess so," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

  "Why?"

  He shook his head. "I don't know, baby."

  "You were tested," I said, trying not to show the intense panic igniting inside of me.

  "Yeah ... no, that can't be it. That's not it."

  My heart pounded against my rib cage, making the vessels in my head throb and my fingers tremble.

  Taylor's worry vanished, and a contrived smile softened his face. "C'mon. We'll find out together."

  I took his outreached hand and grabbed my purse before following Taylor into the hall. We took the elevator to the first floor, and then we found the lounge. Taylor didn't let go of my hand as he paused when he saw a beautiful woman sitting alone at one of the booths along the wall.

  He tugged me forward and sat down, scooting across the bench. I sat next to him, looking at the last woman I'd ever expected to meet face
-to-face.

  "I know you're surprised to see me," she said. "I apologize for not calling first." She glanced at me, blinking and looking down at her folded hands on the table. "But what I have to say needed to be said in person."

  Taylor's hand squeezed mine. I wasn't sure he even knew he was doing it.

  "Does she ..." Alyssa trailed off.

  Taylor nodded. "This is my girlfriend, Falyn. She knows who you are and what happened."

  "Well, she doesn't know this," Alyssa said, raising her eyebrows. She pulled a folded paper that looked like it had been wadded up a few times and pushed it across the table to Taylor.

  He opened it, read it, and set it down in front of him. I waited, staring at the side of his face. His eyes had lost focus. He was so still that I wasn't sure if he was still breathing.

  I had a few ideas about what the paper said, none of them I wanted to be true.

  "Pregnant?" Taylor said, swallowing.

  All the air was knocked out of me, and my eyes instantly glossed over.

  Alyssa sighed. "Fifteen weeks tomorrow. I scheduled an abortion for Thursday."

  "You ... do you want me to go with you?" Taylor asked.

  Alyssa breathed a laugh, unimpressed. "No. I canceled it."

  "So ..." Taylor began. "You're keeping it."

  "No."

  I rubbed my forehead and then looked down, trying not to scream. This wasn't happening to us, to that baby.

  "You're giving it up?" Taylor asked.

  "That depends," Alyssa said, putting the paper back into her purse. Her cool demeanor was maddening. "I'm not in the position to raise it. Are you?"

  Taylor touched his chest. "You're asking me if I want to keep it."

  She folded her hands again. "I'm due December seventh. Shortly after, I have a rather large case that will begin court proceedings. I'm prepared to carry to term and then sign over rights, as I would with a typical adoption."

  She's beautiful, confident, pregnant with Taylor's baby, and a lawyer? Could she surpass me in any more ways?

  "Stop," I said. "You need to think about what you're doing."

  She glared at me. "Excuse me. I respect that you're here for Taylor, but I'm not asking for your opinion."

  "I understand that," I said. "But I've been in your position. This is not a business transaction. It's a baby."

  "You've--"

  "Given up a child, yes. It's not something that ever goes away. Just ... I guess I'm hoping that you make sure it's truly what you want before you decide."

  She blinked, for the first time seeing both of us, and then she trained her eyes on Taylor. "I'm leaving it up to you. If you choose to also relinquish your rights, I'll begin the process of looking for candidates for the adoption. A few agencies in San Diego have been recommended to me."