The May Irwin Kiss [Tayvis Fanfiction]

My Mother's Secret

Two Years Ago
February 17th; 2024
Grace Dearheart's Point of View
I find myself pacing around my apartment, my eyes glued to the contact information of Travis on my phone. I'm in a dilemma. On one hand, I have the power to destroy Taylor and Travis's picture-perfect relationship with a single phone call. But on the other hand, I'm not sure if I have the heart to do it. Despite the anger and resentment boiling inside of me, I don't want to be the one responsible for tearing two people apart. I'm feeling conflicted and torn. What should I do in this situation? I take a deep breath and remind myself not to panic yet. I haven't checked all the facts.
In the bathroom, I carefully place the tests on the sink, feeling the weight of an unexpected revelation. Travis, with his newfound family and plans with Taylor, occupies my thoughts. Despite harboring genuine affection for Taylor, I recognize the impossibility of competing with their connection. The timer's beep interrupts my contemplation, and as I glance at the test, astonishment replaces my earlier resignation. Perhaps, amid the complexities, I won't be navigating this journey alone.

The news of two positive pregnancy tests brings joy at the prospect of motherhood once more. Yet, the realization that Travis is the father introduces a layer of complexity. Reflecting on our shared moments and his enthusiasm for starting a family with Taylor raises doubts. Will my child always be in the shadow of his affections?

Seated on the couch, I contemplate the situation, placing my phone on the coffee table. Choosing not to disclose the truth to Travis, I resolve to spare my child from potential complications. The idea of Taylor Swift becoming a stepmother adds another layer of confusion. How did the roles switch so quickly? I quickly determined that leaving Kansas City and starting afresh was the most sensible path forward.

•                  •                  •

Alone in the room, the doctors gently placed him on my chest on October 7th at 12:38 pm. Cameron Jasper Dearheart, a perfectly healthy 7lbs and 3oz bundle of joy, entered the world. The birth certificate remained silent about the father.

I relocated to Arizona, where my mom resided, seeking solace after my father's passing and caring for my ailing mother. It seemed like a practical decision, providing assistance to her and having a place to stay. The initial year was fulfilling; I embraced motherhood, savoring the moments I missed years ago. Postponing my dating life didn't bother me; my focus was on Cameron, who meant the world to me. I was determined to keep him away from Travis indefinitely.

However, everything changed a year after Cameron's birth. Exhaustion set in, and my health declined. Attributing it to the challenges of parenting an infant, I dismissed the signs until one day at the park with Cam, I collapsed. Waking up in the hospital, I found my mom tearful by my bedside, the vivid memory etched in my mind.

"Cameron?" I asked with my eyes heavy. Asking about my son had to be the first thing I asked about when I woke up. I was much more concerned about him.

"The neighbors are watching him. I told them they could stay at the house if needed." my mom explains.

"Which ones?" I question, wanting clarification.

"The good ones you like. The ones with the little Jenny girl." My mom smiles and grabs my hand.

"Good. Cameron likes Jenny." I cough harshly and cover my mouth. I saw blood droplets in my hands. "What's wrong with me?" The terror that came from my voice was astonishing.

Small tears well up in the corner of her eyes as she fights to keep herself together. "Brain cancer. It's terminal."

In that moment I realized I had to do the one thing I swore I would never do: Revealing the truth to Travis. How old is Viola? She should be getting close to two years old. I'm surprised they're not married or engaged at bare minimum. It daunts over me that I'm about to disrupt their seemingly perfect family. And so, I followed them, eventually relocating to Wyomissing with an estimated four to six months left to live. By June, I had secured a charming cottage to spend my remaining days. However, the challenging task still lay ahead—informing Travis that he was the father.