by Len Webster
Jay looked at her hand. “You took off Graham’s ring.”
Callum winced before he walked out of the office. Then the front bell rang, signalling that he had left the hotel.
Peyton stared at the door, ignoring Jay’s presence.
“Look at me, Peyton,” Jay demanded. With each interaction they had, she was beginning to see a new side of Jay. “You. Took. It. Off.”
“And?” she asked, shaking her head and stepping towards the mess Jay had made. She bent down and picked up her father’s clock. The sight of the mangled pieces caused her eyes to water as she took in the broken hands and the lack of ticking.
“Shit, Peyton. I’m sorry.”
“Get out, Jay,” she said, trying to control the hot emotions working up her throat.
“Peyton—”
She stood up and looked at him hard. “He spent the night, okay? But nothing happened. You were at Daisy’s farm and I’m not even mad that you went against me for her. Keeping me safe from stuff like a storm was your thing. I never obligated you to it. But when I needed someone, Callum was there. And yes, I took Graham’s ring off. Not for Callum, but for me. You won’t understand, but Graham will. I’m not giving up anything for Callum. He’s leaving soon.”
She wasn’t sure when she’d lied, but somewhere in what she’d said, there were a few. Right now, though, she didn’t care. She decided that in order to save their friendship, Jay would have to leave. Peyton placed the clock down on the wooden desk and fought the tears from falling.
“Get out, Jay. Before I say something that I’ll regret.”
Jay clenched his fists tight. “I’m sorry, Peyton. The clock—”
“Just leave,” she instructed, not looking at him.
When the door slammed shut, she breathed out exhaustedly. That wasn’t what she’d expected. Rumours spread like wildfire, but Jay had believed them.
Peyton looked at the papers, the pen, and the frame on the floor. Then she bent down, picked up the picture of her and her parents, and placed it back where it belonged. The glass had smashed, and the sight of the fragments angered and destroyed her. After she examined the frame, she saw the pier design on the floor.
“Callum,” she uttered and raced out the door of the office.
Her heart was beating wildly as she ran out of the hotel. She needed to find him, explain, and apologise for her harsh ways. She just hadn’t wanted him to see Jay in such a way.
Peyton stood on the path outside the door of The Spencer-Dayle. She wasn’t sure where he’d be or how she would contact him. Desperation bled into her chest as she scanned the area, her eyes landing on the pier across the lake. The achiness in her chest relieved the moment she saw him sitting on the edge, staring at either her or the hotel. She wasn’t sure.
When Peyton turned her head, she saw Jay stalking towards town. He didn’t get it, but she understood where he was coming from. Jay felt a need to protect her; she had sensed it in the years since they’d become friends. Sometimes, protection induced suffocation. And that was how Peyton felt when she was around him.
She looked back at the pier and then to the path—two choices, and whichever direction she chose meant consequences.
She squeezed her eyes shut before she started to run down the path. She was sure she saw Callum’s head dip from the corner of her eye. But all she did was run. Hard and fast. Her breathing had become heavy gasps.
Peyton heaved as she reached where her head told her to go. She stopped for a moment to regain herself before she walked towards him.
“You should go after him, Peyton.”
I am.
She lowered herself down next to Callum and let her legs fall over the edge. “What good would that do?” she asked, her eyes sweeping the view. This spot would always be her favourite. A lot of good times outweighed the bad. And Callum was a bit of both.
He let out a bothered sigh. Peyton turned her head to see him also staring out at the lake.
“Peyton, you’re losing people who you love because of my return. It’s my fault that he did that to your father’s clock. And I assume it’s my fault that you’ve taken off Graham’s ring.”
A handful of emotions filled Callum’s face. First, it was anger, then anguish, and finally regret. His eyes lightened instead of darkening. He was remorseful.
“I’m making your life worse. I wanted to come back because I owe you a lot of apologies. I’m trying to make up for a lot of wrongs that I should have made right four and a half years ago. Instead, I’m getting in the way of your friendships and causing the town to talk about you. This wasn’t part of the plan. It’s only going to get worse from here if we stay friends, Pey.”
All breath fled her. It had been a long time since he’d called her that. He was the only one to ever call her Pey. She was his when he breathed it out.
She blinked quickly at him, letting everything about him sear into her memory. She’d only get what little time he was willing to give to her. But she’d take it. All of it.
“Look at me,” she softly demanded.
Callum turned, his eyes meeting hers. So much filled them that she couldn’t tell what they held anymore. It was a mixture, but his pain hit her first.
“This is my fault. I’ll talk to Jay and get this sorted. I can’t let this town hate you the way they hate me just because we spend time together,” he said before his eyes left her.
Peyton stared at the side of his face.
“I never, ever wanted to hurt you, Pey,” he whispered.
And that’s when it all came crumbling down. Her supposed stance weakened and she was exposed.
I’m sorry, heart. I am so sorry.
Peyton lifted her legs up on the pier then leant closer to him. Once Callum turned to face her, she reached up and cupped his face in her hands. Wonder and surprise filled his eyes. Peyton loved it more than the pain and hurt that had been there earlier.
“I’m so sorry, Callum,” she said.
He opened his mouth to speak, but Peyton let her lips crash into his, stopping anything vocal from escaping him. Her heart stopped and then dipped. And then it did something that surprised her—it expanded in relief.
He kissed her with as much desperation as Peyton gave. This. His lips and just the feel of his hands on her hips bringing her closer had her eyes welling. She tingled all over. The memory of just how much she’d loved the way that he kissed her was like a crash of water against rocks—hard and painful.
Callum groaned and Peyton tangled her fingers in his hair. Something she always loved doing and wanted to do since this morning. He squeezed his fingers into the side of her body, causing Peyton to gasp. Then he automatically stopped, his fingers loosened—to her disappointment—and he pulled back. He looked stunned, and Peyton couldn’t help but feel disheartened by the displeasure on his face.
“You promised me that you wouldn’t let anything like this happen between us, Peyton,” Callum said.
Her hands still cradled his face. She took the opportunity and let her thumbs stroke his cheeks. He shivered under her touch, which was a win for her. It didn’t matter if he didn’t love her. She still had an effect on him.
“I promised that I wouldn’t let you kiss me. I kissed you,” she stated. This was what she had missed. Having him in her arms and in her hands. She knew what the end spelt, and for now, she wouldn’t care.
Callum shuffled backwards once, Peyton still holding his face in her hands as he tugged her towards him. She placed her legs over his laps and straddled him—just like all the times they had spent during their last summer.
His eyes showed her the terrified side of him. Peyton moved her hands and brushed his hair back. Then Callum took a sharp breath and squeezed her hips.
“I can’t offer you forever,” he said, breaking the fantasy she was in.
But she wouldn’t let him see that. Her chest ached, but she ignored the pain. She wanted him. That, she was sure of.
“Then give me now. For as long as
you can,” she whispered before letting her fingers trail down the side of his face.
“I can only give you sometimes,” he said.
Peyton gave him a smile. It was all she was going to get. “Then I’ll take your sometimes.”
“And then it’s goodbye,” he said.
Peyton nodded. “Then it’s goodbye to you, Callum Reid.”
Callum pulled her closer to him. “And to you, Peyton Spencer.”
She didn’t reply. Instead, she let her lips slowly make their way to his, sealing what she had already known. That they had just agreed on the end of their story.
We just planned our demise.
The moment his lips met hers, it was an implosion of relief and satisfaction. This was an undeniable want. He was an undeniable want. Unlike before, this was slow and savoured. Callum’s lip guided her to a pattern of open and closed movements. Again and again, it continued, never bordering on too soft or too hard. They found a rhythm and speed in which time became a word and not a force. The same force that would drive them apart soon enough. It was just a matter of when. The thought had Peyton missing a beat in their kiss. But pushing the thought of the inevitable away, she quickly found her way.
Callum wrapped his arms around her lower back and brought her closer. The surprise of his willingness evoked a silent moan, allowing his tongue to find hers. If there were a way to beautifully explore her mouth, then Callum had found it. The gentle stroke of his tongue against hers caused her heart to pound insanely hard. Though years had passed, it was familiar, like he hadn’t forgotten the way they kissed. Each movement and moment of the way his mouth worked her into a frenzy was memorised. Time. It kept looming over her.
“Peyton,” Callum breathed against her, and he slowed their kiss until they mutually stopped. Then he pulled back, brushing her hair away from her face. “Not like this. Please.”
“Like what?” she asked, looking anywhere other than his eyes.
“Like you can change the ending. I can’t give you happily ever after. I can’t give you anything.” He sighed.
Peyton removed her hands from his hair and let them fall in her lap. The need to get off him became desperation. She was ashamed. Her stance and willpower had weakened and she had let her pathetic heart win. Now, it sat uncomfortably behind her ribcage, throbbing and twisting.
“I don’t want a happily ever after, Callum. I need an ending. No spin-offs or sequels. Just a standalone. And maybe someday, I’ll get to hear your epilogue.”
Then she placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed herself up. The stinging of her lips reminded her that she had let desire win. She took a step away from him, leant on the railing, turned her head to the left, and stared at the shimmering water of the lake. She felt his eyes on her, but right now, her mind wasn’t in a good place. She didn’t trust her decision-making abilities at the moment.
Callum, standing up, caught her attention. When her eyes met his, the controlled Callum was before her.
“My epilogue?” he asked.
Peyton nodded. “Yes. A conclusion to all of this. I want to hear it someday.”
He scratched his arm, thinking. Hints of his sleeve tattoo poked out. “What do you want to hear in it?”
She relaxed her body and let the uncomfortable heat spread from her chest to the rest of her body. Then she gave him a tight smile, knowing that what she was about to say came hand-in-hand with their upcoming goodbye.
“Everything. Write it down one day and send it to me. I want to hear about you meeting the love of your life. I want to hear about how you proposed to her. I want to hear where you said ‘I do.’” Peyton stopped and quickly wiped her tears away. She hadn’t thought it would be so hard to talk about his future. “And I want to hear about your firstborn and all the children you have after. I want to hear their names. I want to hear how happy you are with your life.”
God, Peyton, you’re being ridiculous. Cut that shit out!
She looked up at him. His red and swollen lips appeared to tremble before his jaw locked. Callum turned away as his nostrils flared. Whether it was anger or hurt, she didn’t know but the way his eyes flashed in pain didn’t go unmasked. He had fallen silent until he finally faced her.
“And that’s something that you’d want me to send you?” he asked. There was nothing in his voice that suggested he wouldn’t.
“It’s something I’d love.”
“But what if you move houses or something?”
Peyton let out a short laugh. “You’ll find me right here in Daylesford, Callum. Just like you did before.”
“And what about you, Peyton?” he asked.
She swallowed hard and shook her head. “I don’t have one to write. Some stories don’t need one. And I’m afraid this is kind of the end of the line for me. Just the hotel and this town.”
Callum stepped towards her and placed his arms on the railing, trapping her. “There’s more out there than just Daylesford.”
Her heart pounded against her chest, threatening to squeeze through her ribcage. She looked up and nodded. “I know there is. There’s nothing out there for me.”
He tilted his head at her. “How do you know? I’ve seen what’s out there.”
She gave him a fine smile before saying, “Because everything I have left is here. Memories are more important to me than the city. I’m content with my life here.”
Callum exhaled heavily before resting his forehead on hers. “There’s so much more outside of the town’s limit, Peyton. You belong out there, experiencing more than what Daylesford offers you.”
Her heart felt like it was being tugged in different directions simultaneously. She peeked up at him through her lashes, Callum’s grey eyes meeting hers.
“I belong here,” she said.
I always thought I belonged to you. Not this town.
He pulled away and nodded. “Then let’s give Oscar and Marissa a wedding they’ll never forget and get the hotel the recognition it deserves.” Then Callum dropped his hands from the pier, turned, and made his way off it.
“Callum,” she called out as she watched him leave.
He stopped and, without hesitation, faced her. Peyton stood at one end of the pier and Callum at the other, separated by planks of nailed wood.
“Yeah?” he asked, digging his hands into his pants pockets.
“I’m sorry that I kissed you.”
He looked at the ground that met the first plank of the pier before he looked back up at her. “Don’t be, because I’m not. We just can’t let it happen again, Peyton. Want to head back to the hotel and go through those plans?”
She didn’t feel anything. Finally, years of hoping and wishing had finally paid off—Peyton no longer felt. And to her disappointment, it wasn’t as satisfying as she had imagined. Rather, it left her longing for more.
“I can’t wait till we leave this place, Pey. Just wait until we start a life together out there. No matter where we are or where we go, you’ve claimed me. My life makes sense when I’m with you.”
Peyton rolled onto her back as she let memories of him keep her awake. She brought her fingers to her lips, missing the way that he felt against her. It had been a rookie mistake to kiss him, but inside her, something had snapped. She’d hated the way that he’d blamed himself for Jay’s behaviour and her actions. There had been no logic, just the desperate need to take all the self-blame away from him.
“We just can’t let it happen again, Peyton.”
And it couldn’t. It was bad enough that he was back; kissing him made it all the more complicated. He’d said that he could only offer her now and sometimes, nothing close to forever. The tension had been so thick when they’d returned to the hotel; she was almost drowning in it.
Peyton let her hand fall back onto the pillow and kept her eyes on the pendant light as she continued to replay today in her head. A day that made her question what tomorrow would bring. After what had seemed like forever, the tension had started to dissipate. Som
ehow, they’d found a comfortable moment when they’d discussed the wedding. With some adjustments to her original plan, the dance floor by the lake was feasible. All it needed was redesigning, and Callum offered to do just that. The moment she said, “Okay,” to him, he picked up the design, said he had to leave, and walked out.
The moment the bell rang to signal his departure, Peyton was thankful. She couldn’t take being so close to him, hating the fantasies of what could have been that bubbled up every time she looked at him. She was finally alone to breathe. But each time she thought about them kissing on the pier, she ended up more frustrated than before.
After being left alone with her thoughts, Peyton realised that she didn’t want to hear from him after he left. She didn’t want to hear about how he had found love and found happiness. She didn’t want to hear about how another woman had ended up with the man Peyton had always seen as her happily ever after. But she knew deep down that she wanted to hear about this woman and thank her for making Callum happy. That’s what her heart wanted.
Peyton turned on her side and stared at her phone on the bedside table. Taking a deep breath, she picked it up and rolled on her back again. With a firm grasp, she held the phone in front of her face and unlocked it. Then she found Callum’s number, not even sure if it was the same as it was four years ago. She swore she felt and heard her heartbeat pound in her eardrums as she opened the screen to type a new text message.
She let out a breath of air as she hovered her thumbs over the touchscreen. She knew she shouldn’t do it, but she was fighting an internal battle of want and need. The same battle between protecting her heart and freeing it. But the fight with herself didn’t take long as her thumbs began to type for her.
Peyton: Are you awake?
She pressed send and immediately regretted it, wishing she could recall it back. She prayed that she had the wrong number. A second after pressing send, though, she got a reply.
Callum: Peyton?
She looked at his message. She knew she shouldn’t reply, but she wanted to speak to him in any form she could get. To say she was confused hardly described what and how she felt.