Peyton does, but only taps the drum.
“No, Peyton. I want you to hit it hard. Let it all out on my drums. You can’t hurt them, so don’t even worry about that right now.”
Peyton hits the drum again, but barely.
“Is that all you got?” I ask. I pull another set of sticks out and hit the drum hard. I do this over and over again, saying things that make me angry. Peyton tries again, this time much harder. We take turns hitting the drums until she has both sticks pounding down. I sit there, holding her steady in my lap so she doesn’t fall forward.
When she’s done, she drops the sticks and turns in my lap. Her face is red and puffy from tears and it breaks my heart to see her going through so much pain.
“I’m so sorry, Peyton, no one deserves this much pain.”
“Your daddy went to heaven too?”
“He did.”
“Did you cry?”
“I did. He was my best friend.”
“So was my daddy.”
“I know.” I pull her into a hug and she squeezes me as hard as she can. I don’t know if this is a turning point for us or not, but right now, I’m willing to accept whatever she needs to dish out, whether it’s good or bad. “You can come down here anytime you want.”
“You won’t be mad?”
I shake my head. “No, not at all.”
She turns and picks up the sticks and taps them down a few times. She touches the cymbal and laughs at the different noises it makes.
“Harrison?”
“Yeah, sweetie?”
“Will you teach me to play?”
My heart soars with relief. I try not to think too much into what she’s asking, but if this is a way for us to connect, I’m running with it.
“Anything for you, Peyton.”
I lose the contents of my lunch. Josie holds my hair back, just as she did when I had morning sickness with the twins. Every time an image flashes in my mind, I heave. I was so stupid to think that Harrison was genuine in his fondness of me. He only wanted one thing and apparently he didn’t just need that from me. The mere thought of him being with her brings up another round of the dry heaves. I’m out, empty. The burning in my stomach and chest are stark reminders of the amount of pain I’ve dealt with for over a year now. In one moment, Harrison brought it all back, rushing like water rapids and dragging me under.
I wash my mouth out and pat my face dry. I don’t want to look at Josie. I don’t want to see the sadness etched across her face. I know that look well, no need for a reminder. I leave the bathroom and head to my room. The two-bedroom suite Liam booked is a godsend, as it allows for privacy. Privacy that I didn’t think we’d need.
I fall onto the bed and bury my hands underneath the pillow. I sob into the pillow, allowing it to muffle the sound. I’m utterly and completely broken. I know now that I moved on too fast. If I had waited, I would’ve seen his true colors. He would’ve shown the real Harrison before too long. But no, I gave in. I pursued him, even though that was never my intention. I let him get close. I allowed him to woo me with thoughts of togetherness as a family. He baited me with my children. I was a fool to allow all of this to happen.
He’s hurt me, and he’s going to hurt my children. I can’t have a man like this around them. And to think, he had the nerve to tell me he never has any women around Quinn – that’s because he’d tell his mother.
I can’t believe I was so stupid to fall for his charm.
There’s a knock at the door. I sit up and drag my hands over my face roughly. I don’t care what I look like. This vacation is over. The sooner I get home, the better. A lot of things need to change.
Josie walks in with a bottle of wine and two glasses. Even though it’s the last thing I want to do, drinking to forget sounds like a damn good idea right now. She hands me my glass and sits down next to me. I bring the glass to my lips, hesitating for only a moment before tipping my head back and downing the sweet liquid.
I hold my glass out and she fills it again silently. I repeat my action, letting the wine drown my sorrows. Josie has yet to take a drink as she sits next to me, refilling my glass.
“Do you want to go home?”
I scoff. What kind of question is that? The sad thing is, I don’t even have an answer. I shake my head. “Yes and no. I don’t know what I want, except to go back and forget I ever met him.”
“Katelyn,” she says softly, but the underlying tone is there.
“Don’t you dare defend him, Josie. Just don’t. I should’ve never listened to you or Liam, and now look at me. He’s a lying bastard, a cheater, and I don’t have time for him in my life.”
“Katelyn, just listen to me for a minute.” She stands and places her glass and the wine bottle on the nightstand. She kneels, taking my empty hand in hers. “I’m not saying anything to defend anyone, but I think you need to look at this with clear eyes.”