Chapter 1 

 

Peyton

 

 

I sat in my Audi in the four-car garage, staring at the wall. There was no point in putting it off any longer. I needed to face my family. I needed to tell them the thing they least wanted to hear. And after that, I would hit them with what they least expected to hear.

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I stepped out of the car. Fourteen months ago, driving a car had been impossible. Ten months ago, it had been a goal I set out to achieve, among many others. Eight months ago, I ticked it off the list. There’d been so many achievements except the one my parents wanted.

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I took a deep breath and went inside. Mom stood at the marble counter, serving up dinner, her long blonde hair tied at the nape of her neck. Before the accident, my hair was long like hers. But the fire had burnt that, as well as my skin. Dad came from the living room, the remote control in his hand. Both looked at me expectantly. My stomach somersaulted.

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I looked down at my feet, took a breath, and raised my eyes. “Dr. Mendez doesn’t think I will get full functionality of my hand back.”

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Mom sucked a breath in.

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Dad shook his head. “That’s not an acceptable outcome. We need to consult another specialist.”

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Mom nodded. She grabbed her phone off the counter. “I’ve compiled a list.”

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I sighed. We’d already been through this, multiple times. “Dr. Mendez is one of the most renowned specialists in the United States. He warned us from the outset that this could be the outcome.”

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Dad’s lips tightened. His face set in determination. I’m sure they would escort me to as many doctors as it would take for them to hear what they wanted—that I could resume my career as a surgeon.

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I was so tired. Tired of the pressure I put on myself to recover. Tired of their expectations and resulting disappointment. Tired of fighting for a career they wanted for me. It felt like their love and support hinged on that one thing—me following in their footsteps just like my sister had.

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I needed to get away. But could I do it? I’d already accepted a job in another country, in a totally non-medical related field, without consulting my parents first. But why did I need to consult them? I was twenty-six years old. But in those twenty-six years, I’d never once made a decision for myself. I’d never done anything for myself without considering what they would think or say, whether they’d approve or not.

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The accident had made me stronger in many ways. It had given me a small amount of separation from them. I needed to believe in my capabilities. I needed to believe in myself. I needed to say the words.

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“I’ve accepted a job in Australia as a nanny,” I blurted out.

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Dad placed the TV remote on the counter slowly, deliberately. “I beg your pardon?”

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“I’m going to Australia.”

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Mom’s face was ashen. “To be a nanny?”

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“Yes.”

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“You can’t just run away from this. You need to face it head-on,” Dad said. His face was obstinate, and his shoulders rigid.

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What did he think I’d been doing?

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“I’ve been facing it head-on for fourteen months.”

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Was that too brazen? My heart hammered in my chest. I wanted to step back and look anywhere but at them. But I rooted my feet to the floor and held my head high.

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Their eyes widened. Good little Peyton had never spoken up to them before. My stomach clenched. I was really doing this. Holy hell. Mom stood beside Dad, standing tall, her chin elevated. A pose I knew well. Sweat pooled under my arms.

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“Is this where you see your life heading? Being a nanny? There are other worthy careers you can strive for,” she said.

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My car keys dug into my palm. They were ready to continue making my life choices. I shrunk under their unrelenting stares. I guess they were right. Maybe there were other options I could consider. Maybe…

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“What about David?” Mom asked.

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 The audacity. Bringing David, my so-called fiancé, into this was uncalled for. I brought myself to my full height.

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“David has no bearing on my decision.”

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“He should. He is your fiancé,” Dad said.

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“My fiancé? He has not visited for the last two months unless it was because you invited him to dinner.”

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“He just started his residency at Massachusetts General,” Mom said. “You know he works long hours. He’s under a lot of pressure to secure a spot at the hospital.”

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I let out an exasperated breath. I didn’t want to have this conversation with them. I would never win. David could do no wrong in their eyes. I’m sure they’d prefer him as a child rather than me.

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I couldn’t help myself. “They’ve banned all phones, too, have they?”

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“He’s very busy.”

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This was ridiculous. I clutched my keys harder. “The only reason David hasn’t broken off the engagement is because of you. He doesn’t care about me.”

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“That’s not true,” Mom said; agitation filled her voice.

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“Yes, Mom, it is true. It’s all about status. Your status. His family’s status.”

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I’d given this a lot of thought over the past fourteen months. We’d drifted further and further apart since the accident. If I were to be honest, we hadn’t been that close to start with. Not in a relationship sense. We moved in the same circles, but there was no true intimacy between us, nothing deep.

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“He can hide behind his busy career all he likes, but it’s been over for months.”

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“You need to speak to him. You cannot make this decision alone.”

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“I will speak to him.” And that would be giving him more than he had given me. “When I tell him I’ve accepted a job in Australia.”

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He would be nothing but relieved.

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Unlike my parents. This wouldn’t be the last conversation we had about this. I needed to stay strong and stand my ground.

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Australia sounded more inviting by the minute.