What Goes Around Comes Around

I looked at Troy Crosby, my father and the man I couldn't force myself to connect with, no matter how hard I tried. His beady brown eyes glared into my own, with an anger so prominent in them that I had to look away.

I looked down at Peyton to find her staring at my father: she didn't seem surprised at my father's blatant disapproval, which I would have expected from a granddaughter meeting her disappointing grandfather for the first time. An awkward, and quite painful, silence followed this until I heard a sweet voice in the background, calling out for her husband. I placed a hand on Peyton's shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze, even she was being the brave one and I would've liked nothing more than to take Peyton and go back to Boston on the next flight.

I have no problem dealing with the constant disappointment my father feels about me, I have come to terms with it over the years. My mother has never expressed anything other than support and love in anything I've ever done. She has always made sure that I don't just feel like I'm good enough, she made sure that I felt like I was more than enough. Even that time I came home completely wasted in the 9th grade after my first party, she gave me aspirin and rubbed my back while I got sick over a toilet for what felt like hours. She told me that while she did not condone my excessive underage drinking, she understood it. She always told me that her biggest regret was not letting me be a child. The ironic thing is, I was more of an adult when I was 14 than I have been in the last 10 years.

She came to the doorway, which was still partially blocked by her husband. Her eyes immediately lit up, with a brightness that only she could create. It wasn't long before she noticed Peyton, her eyes squinting with confusion. I took a deep breath and looked her in the eye.

"This is my daughter, Peyton." Her eyes widened, but she was wary, and looked at me like I had 5 heads. "Aurora Lanza is her mom, she got pregnant when we were 16." She still looked uneasy but kept her face kind while she studied Peyton's face.

"Uh, how about we take this inside?" Troy suggested uneasily, looking down the hallway as if he expected a reporter to pop out of the plant near the elevator. I had to restrain myself from rolling my eyes. He was worried about my "reputation" after I dropped a bomb like that.

I just nodded and they moved into the rented hotel room/apartment. Peyton and I followed suit, my hand still placed on her shoulder. Trina sat on the couch and Troy stood behind the couch, his arms crossed over his broad chest and his face brooding. We sat opposite of them, yet another awkward silence in place.

The silence was broken by an excited yelp coming from behind us. All of our heads immediately turned to see what it was and Taylor stood there, a huge smile on her face. She rushed towards the couch Peyton and I were on, her eyes watering slightly. She sat down next to Peyton and stared at her, unadulterated joy present in her eyes.

"Oh my Jesus, she's gorgeous!" She burst out and Peyton's cheeks tinged red. Taylor's eyes met mine and quickly went back to Peyton's. "She has your lips, hair, and those beautiful eyelashes!" She continued to gush until my mother snapped out of her disbelief.

"Sidney. Patrick. Crosby." She spoke each word with a strong voice and I knew I was about to get it. "Please tell me you didn't know." Her voice broke at the end when she saw the guilt and shame in my eyes. Pain and anger flooded into hers.

I felt Peyton tense up next to me and hated myself for bringing her into a situation that made her uncomfortable. I looked over at Taylor and she nodded, knowing exactly what I needed from her.

"Come on, Peyton." She held out her hand to Peyton and Peyton took it. "Let's go check out the game room, I went last night and it was pretty cool." They began walking towards the door and she gave me a concerned look over her shoulder. I just smiled at her but I know she didn't buy it.

I focused my attention back on my parents, my mother watching my every move and Troy looking homicidal. "Yeah, mom, I knew. She told me after she got pregnant and I was a complete ass about it. I denied that the baby was mine, even though I knew that it was most definitely mine." Trina frowned but I ignored it and continued. "She left Cole Harbour and I never heard from her again. I was relieved, for quite a while. Then it sunk in, what I had done. The guilt has been eating me alive for years. I don't think I've had a full nights sleep in 3 years." I whispered the last part and looked down at the floor, the memories resurfacing made me feel dizzy.

"I went to Boston 4 days ago to find Aurora and apologize. Aurora is giving me a second chance, which I know that I do not deserve. Peyton is so smart and funny. She plays hockey and she's really good. I adore the kid already." I admitted sheepishly and I heard my father scoff. My mother moved swiftly and sat next to me. She put her arms around my much bigger frame and hugged me.

"I would've helped you, baby." I knew this was her crying voice. "I know you were scared but can you imagine how scared Aurora must have been? She didn't even have her mum to help her and protect her." Her crying increased. Her empathy and maternal instincts were coming out. I didn't know how to respond so I stayed silent and let her cry.

"Please try to make it right." She said before excusing herself to the restroom, practically sprinting there. I shook my head and let out a stressful sigh.

"You're a fucking idiot, you know that?" My father's inevitable verbal attack began. He moved from his spot behind the couch and got closer to me. "Leave it to you to fuck up your successful career over some ghost from your past." He spat out and his face grew red.

"Some ghost?" I questioned as I felt my blood boil, but kept my cool. "She's my child." He laughed, as if I had just told the funniest joke in the world.

"Child?" He stepped closer to me and the veins in his forehead stood out, like they always did when he was mad. "You were too stupid to wrap it up when you banged some groupie. That's how you ended up with a bastard with some whore, not a child." My breathing became labored and my hands began to shake with rage.

I stood up and got in his face. "Yeah, you seem to know a lot about having unprotected sex with women you aren't married to. I learned from the best, didn't I?" I smiled at him and that's when I knew I pushed him too far.

I heard the crack before I registered what was happening. Before I knew it, I was on the floor, seeing stars. I felt more pressure on my ribs after. I heard my mother screaming next. Everything felt like a whirlwind and nothing made sense. I felt liquid on me and when I touched my face, I felt it on my hands too. I looked down and saw blood covering my hands and all down my grey shirt. My mother's face was in front of me next and I knew she was yelling, but I couldn't hear a word she was saying.

The feelings came back all at once. My father was no where to be found and my mother looked terrified, her pale skin more ashen than usual. I sat up but immediately had to lie back down. I breathed in quickly and started hacking, coughing up some blood.

"Oh my God." I groaned in pain as I curled up in a ball, every breath I took more painful than the last. I closed my eyes and thought of Peyton. I knew I needed to get her out of here.

I jumped up and choked down the screams, moving past my mother and towards the door. Peyton and Taylor were walking down the hallway, laughing until they saw me. Both of their eyes grew round and Taylor put her hand over her mouth.

"Sidney!" She ran toward me and stopped right in front of me. Her eyes held the type of sympathy I've seen many times before on her. "I am so sorry." She whispered and touched my injured face lightly. I nodded and tried to focus on her face instead of the pain and dizziness.

"I'll call you." I promised as I walked past her and down the hallway, toward Peyton. I heard her yell behind me but I grabbed Peyton's hand and kept going. I called a taxi when I got outside, knowing I was in no shape to drive. I looked down at Peyton's terrified blue eyes, knowing I looked like something out of a horror movie right now.

The taxi driver didn't seem fazed, probably having picked up many nut jobs over the years. We were at my condo in no time. I moved upstairs as fast as my injuries would let me and told Peyton to pack her things. I entered the bathroom and looked in the mirror, getting ready to assess my injuries.

There was a lot of blood. A lot. My face was heavily bruised and swollen, I couldn't even wiggle my nose without wanting to scream. Broken nose, I concluded. I lifted up my shirt and my rib cage was still a reddish-purple, the black and blue not having had time to set yet. At least one broke rib.

The bastard literally kicked me while I was down, I thought.

I cleaned up the blood and changed my shirt, trying to appear as okay as possible.

I walked downstairs to find Peyton ready, a look of great concern on her face. "I'm okay and I am so sorry about this." I told her and smiled, but quickly grimaced when I felt a very sharp pain in my nose. I knew I needed to get it set but I mostly definitely couldn't and did not want to do it here. I need to get out of this city.

"Let's go back to Boston."