Peyton Bishop stood smiling on Daniel's porch, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his slacks. He stood there like it was the most natural thing in the world for him to be there, like it hadn't been eight whole months since we'd last spoken.

All insolence, I crossed my arms and leaned up against the door frame. "Well, well, well. Would you look at what the cat dragged in?" But I was smiling. I'd googled Harvard's spring break and knew it started this week, had been wondering if he'd finally come home, had been hoping that he would. I'd missed him. A lot.

"Surprised?"

"Just a little bit. You look real good, still so tanned. Getting lots of sun up in Boston?" I teased. He looked exactly the same, beautiful as always, achingly familiar. I had to check my impulse to lean forward and kiss his cheek, as I usually did. Things were different now, weren't they?

Not for him though. He looked at me, the same way he always would, breathing me in. Maybe a little more intensely than usual, but this separation had been record long for us.

He smiled. "So... dinner?"

"Well, I don't know. You can't just show up on my doorstep out of the blue and expect me to drop everything and come running."

"Of course I can." He smiled.

I smiled. Of course he could. But I wouldn't let him off the hook that easy. "Eight months, Peyton, and not even a call! What in hell is that?"

"You could've called me too," he said.

That was true. But I hadn't, and he hadn't, because there'd been an implied understanding that we'd both needed some space.

In hindsight, most of our communication had been unspoken, Peyton and me, for better or worse.

His eyes shifted at the sound of footsteps approaching from behind me.

"Layla, quit fucking around. Pay the guy and bring the pizza in, Daniel and I are-" Jake stopped cold when he saw Peyton, released me from the chokehold he'd put me in.

After a moment's hesitation, Jake stepped around me and offered his hand to Peyton. "Hey."

They shook in silence and exchanged empty platitudes, treating each other like somebody that they used to know. In all fairness, I guess that's what they were to each other. Sometimes, friendships just fell apart. 

If Peyton was surprised by Jake's presence, he didn't show it. Instead, he turned his attention back to me. "Maybe tomorrow-"

"No wait-" I turned to Jake. "Peyton wants to go to dinner."

Jake shrugged. "Yeah, okay."

"You're more than welcome to come," said Peyton.

"Nah, we've got the game on and pizza's on the way. You guys go ahead," said Jake.

"I'm sorry, I should've called-"

"It's nothing," said Jake, cutting Peyton off. "Go ahead, it's fine."

The three of us stood in awkward silence while the cicadas buzzed in the trees. Just as things were getting really uncomfortable, the pizza guy showed up. I gave Jake the money from my pocket and we shuffled around so that I could get out of the house.

On the way to the car, I glanced over my shoulder to see if Jake was bothered by me going off with Peyton. I'd half expected (unjustified, but still) him to be staring daggers into the back of my head, but he was yukking it up with the pizza guy like it was no big thing.

That relieved and kind of pissed me off at the same time.

***

Peyton and I went back to the Golden Dragon. It was nice to eat out - Jake and I rarely did, preferring to eat at home with Daniel, who hated restaurants. I ordered General Tso's and Peyton got Chicken with White Sauce. I'd never thought about it before, but Peyton, like Jake, was a really picky eater and liked his food bland.

The conversation had been a little stilted in the car and I couldn't decide if it was due to the initial awkwardness of reunions, or if it was because of the Jake thing. Then I'd wondered if Peyton even knew about us. I mean, I was sure he knew about before, what with the whole hospital thing and all, but maybe he hadn't expected us to make it this far?

By the time we were halfway done with dinner, we loosened up and were back to how we were. We took turns catching up.

Peyton went first. Harvard was fine. He'd made some friends, classes were going well, the food was just okay. His roommate was a little weird, some engineer type from Pennsyltucky who watched a lot of WWE and smelled like cheese.

We laughed about that for a little bit, but then he got to the heavy stuff. Charlotte had been institutionalized at a facility in upstate New York. It was a beautiful place he said, with swans in the lake, roses even in the winter, and the best doctors in the world. No, she wasn't happy there, but things were deteriorating for her and she was staying for an indefinite time.

It sounded like he meant forever, but I knew it hurt him to talk about it so I didn't press for details. Anyway, Peyton visited her often, at least once a month, sometimes twice. And Mrs. Bishop had moved up there, bought a nice house that overlooked the river and was stunning during the fall with all its turning leaves.

And yes, the rumors were true. Mrs. Bishop had filed for divorce. Peyton was here to sort through her things and ship what she needed back to her, and to finalize some legal documents with his daddy. Mr. Bishop would remain in Texas with his "staff," and Peyton would drop in every once in a while to check on him.

My Peyton, still carrying the world on his shoulders.

When I expressed my concerns about his time constraints and the emotional toll of it all, he'd said it was fine, that he would take care of everything. I knew he would, but it broke my heart just the same.

It was the first time we'd ever talked about this kind of stuff (what, with me having been clueless all those years) and I could tell that it was difficult for him to discuss. I appreciated the effort he was putting into it, but I couldn't help but think that it was purely for my benefit, that it wasn't helping him any to talk about it.

"You're perfect as you are, and I don't want you to be sullied by all this. I don't want you in this part of my life."

He'd said the words to me years ago when I'd witnessed his meltdown. I'd went along with it then to keep him happy, and I'd do it again now. The thing about helping people was, most people were only willing to do what they personally thought the distressed needed, ignoring the fact that different people had different ways of coping. For Peyton, I'd do what he needed.

So I changed the subject and bragged about my grades, bragged about how good of a cook I'd become, and bragged about being promoted to a cowhand who was allowed to ride out with the cowboys.

"I swear, I'm surprised you even recognized me, I've become so superhuman," I said, turning my nose up at him.

He grinned. "You were always superhuman."

I didn't want him to know I was being flippant for his benefit so I told him about the serious things too, about Faith's death and how devastating that had been for me, and about Brandy and how worried I was getting for her.

Then, he asked me about college.

Well, shit.

"I'm thinking Montana," I said reluctantly.

"Montana?"

"It'd be a community college, but I think it's the best choice for me, academically and financially." I pushed a piece of broccoli around my plate.

"That's crazy. You can't move to Montana, you don't know anyone there. Where will you live? What if you get sick? What if something happens to you? Layla this is not-"

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

It was the hardest thing I'd ever had to do, to tell him that Jake was coming with me. Haltingly, I told him about the plans we'd made, how we were going to take off as soon as I graduated and take the long way up to Montana stopping to see New Mexico, Arizona, and Utah. How Jake had already talked to some potential employers, about the housing options we were considering, about the money we'd saved.

Peyton was floored, his emotions naked and raw across his face. Shock, disbelief, and fear. 

It tore my heart to shreds. Had he been planning to come home for the summer? Had he been counting on me being here? Would he be lost without me? I felt so guilty that I couldn't look him in the face, so I concentrated cutting up a piece of chicken into tiny little pieces.

Peyton recovered and forced himself to smile. He said he was glad to hear my plans and said encouraging words about college, because that's what friends did. But he also stopped eating after that.

I knew exactly how he felt because my appetite had vanished too. There was no way I'd be able to swallow anything at that point without vomiting it back up.

So he paid, and then we left.

***

We drove back to the ranch with the windows open, the cool air giving us the oxygen we needed in our strangled lungs.

Peyton had pulled himself together and was making small talk about the weather, as if nothing was wrong.

Tied up in knots, I looked at him. He drove with one hand, his shoulders relaxed, his body loose.

Such control.

And you know what? I got myself all worked up about it. I wanted to know. I wanted to know everything, how he'd really felt about me all these years, if he'd ever loved me at all, or if it had all been but the wretched delusions of a lonely girl. And if he had, or if he still did, then maybe some dark and twisted side of me wanted him to regret losing me. Losing? He'd never even put up a fight.

"Did you know? About me and Jake?"

He'd been expecting the question. "Yeah, I guess I did. I didn't think you guys would be moving away though."

"Mmmm hmmm... are you okay with it?"

"Do I have a choice in the matter?"

Did he? If he would ask me to stay, would I?

When I didn't answer, he spoke. "If it makes you happy. I only want you to be happy. It's all I've ever wanted for you, all I ever will."

I think his answer might've been different had I asked him when his guard was down, just fifteen minutes earlier. Then again, with how things turned out, I guess it wouldn't have mattered.

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