Page 83 of Loving Taylor
With that I allowed her back in with the chance to be there again as the mother who loved me.
Her bottom lip trembled as she gazed up at me like I had opened the gateway to Heaven for her. She put her arms around me and hugged me. I loosely put my arms around her and held her close.
"I love you," she whispered hoarsely.
I love you too. I thought what I couldn't say aloud just yet. Baby steps, and when the time was right I would be able to tell her everything she needed.
She released me and gazed up at me. Her hand fondly caressed my cheek. "Whoever this girl is she must be very special to you."
Her words reminded me of Taylor. I frowned as my mood darkened. I didn't want to think about her or what she had done.
"She was," I admitted, making it clear that what we had was in the past. "But she did something behind my back."
My mother studied me for a several moments.
"Can you forgive her?" she asked quietly.
I considered what she said. I had done the exact same thing to her and she had been able to forgive me. Why couldn't I forgive her?
The memory of what I was hiding replayed in my mind. The difference was she nearly found something that would tear us apart and nothing would be able to put us back together again.
"I don't know."
If I forgave her and she discovered my secret, then it wouldn't matter. My forgiveness would only give us a temporary reprieve before the real issue would break us. Was there any point?
This gave me a whole lot more complicated questions I hadn't even considered. Should I have just come clean and allowed the cards to fall where they may?
No, the control freak in me couldn't allow me to do something like that without knowing the odds were in my favor. It was probably the reason why I was so good at poker. I could calculate the odds and play the game. But Taylor wasn't a game and I had only one chance.
I was frustrated and angry. Physically putting distance between Taylor and I should have fixed the problem, but it hadn't. She was all I could think about. I dropped my head into my hands and rubbed them over my face. It didn't help that every time I closed my eyes I saw her smiling at me and I felt guilty for leaving abruptly the way I had. Granted, I'd been clear that things between us were over, but packing up and leaving had been going a bit overboard.
When I'd packed my stuff, I'd had no intention of ever going back. Now, sitting in the house I'd bought for my mom, I knew that I had to go back. I couldn't run away from the problem. The only way to deal with it was to face it head on. I eyed the offending folder that still lay on the coffee table. I hadn't been able to open it up and look at what it held, but I had a pretty good idea since I'd lived through all of it—stuff I wasn't proud of.
Feeling agitated, I stood up and began to pace the room.
She'd told me that she hadn't read the folder and I believed her because, if she had, I was pretty sure she wouldn't have wanted anything to do with me. I wouldn't have had a chance to tell her that we were over; she would have told me to leave if she knew. I'd never wanted to erase my past as badly as I'd wanted to when I'd first found out about the murder of Taylor's parents. It was only a matter of time before she found out. I thought about coming clean with her, but I wasn't sure she would want to ever see me again after that.
My phone began to ring and I pulled it out of my jeans pocket. I'd expected it to be Taylor, but it was Slater.
"Hi," I said as I answered the call.
"You need to get your ass back here," he instructed forcefully. He sounded upset and it wasn't like him.
"What's wrong, man?" I asked, knowing my best friend well enough to know that something was going on.
"Look, there's no good way to say this..." he said and I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach.
"It's Taylor," he admitted.
My heart stopped beating for a split second as I felt the fear crash over me like a wave.
"What happened?" I said tightly, already having every worst-case scenario cycling through my mind.
"She's gone," he revealed, and I felt my legs weaken and I slumped down in the chair.
"What do you mean she's gone?" I asked, my voice already thickening with the emotion I felt. I'd asked the question, but I wasn't sure I wanted the answer.
"She's missing," he said softly.
