“You’re leaving me!” she sobbed.
“Summer’s over, Pey. I can’t stay in this town. I have to leave. I’m... I’m sorry about everything. It and us… We shouldn’t have happened. We should have just stayed friends,” Callum said before he turned and walked back into the house.
Friends.
That one word pierced her heart.
Peyton wiped her tears and looked around. More boxes were packed into the trucks, and she tried to process it all.
“Peyton, I didn’t think we’d see you today.” She heard Mr Reid say.
She lifted her head to see an older version of Callum step out of the house. “I-I,” she stuttered, but she couldn’t form words.
“Dad, just leave it,” Callum said angrily. He didn’t look her way as he handed his father another box.
Callum stood in front of her, and the fine line his mouth made was one she never saw.
“You should have told me,” she said, hurt and devastated by what was happening around her.
“There was nothing to tell. I’m moving to the city.”
“That’s it? You’re just up and moving to the city. That’s all it took? Two days and you changed your mind,” she cried.
She had told him that she loved him. He hadn’t said it back, but he hadn’t pushed her away. That night they’d gone to the lake, she’d given him her innocence and told him that she loved him. Two days later, he was leaving.
“Peyton, it’s goodbye,” he softly said. The break in his voice didn’t match the menacing look in his eyes.
“Then goodbye. But don’t you ever come back to this town, Callum. You’re dead to me! If what we had meant nothing to you, then good. Go! I never want to see your face again!” Peyton took one more look at those grey eyes before she turned around and walked towards her house.
“Peyton!” he called but she couldn’t do it.
She couldn’t listen to his voice calling her name. Her heart was too broken to accept any more pain at the hands of him.
Present day
Cherry blossoms dancing in the wind caught her eye. Beautifully and gracefully demanding for attention. Sheer, cream-coloured curtains obscured the pink flowers. Breathing out, Peyton parted the curtains and pulled the window open, allowing the cold autumn air to serenade her. The cherry blossom tree outside her window held so many memories, ones she hated and ones she loved. That tree was the reason why her parents had bought the old house in Daylesford, Victoria.
Peyton admired the structure of the tree, taller than the house and older than she. During winter, the cherry blossoms grew vibrant, far more beautiful than in autumn or spring. This one tree strived in showcasing its beauty during a time when snow would sometimes fall. Giving the tree one last appreciative glace, Peyton closed her window and locked the latch.
“Peyton.”
She turned around to see her great-aunt Brenda holding a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in her hands.
“Big day today,” her aunt said with a proud smile.
After walking over to her oak dresser, Peyton picked up a hair band and tied her brown hair into a low ponytail. With a huff, Peyton made her way to the bed and sat on it.
“I don’t know if I can do it, Aunt Brenda,” she confessed as she looked down at her hands.
The bed dipped and Peyton turned her head to see her aunty smiling up at her.
“Honey, your mother and father would be proud of you,” she said with confidence and placed the plate in Peyton’s hand.
“But what if I’m not ready, not skilled—”
“None of that!” her aunty scolded, cutting Peyton off. “Peyton, you worked hard. Your Uncle John and I, we know you can do it. You put yourself through school. You know how to run the hotel. You’ve run it plenty of times before.”
Peyton closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Yes, but I mean, it’s now mine. It’s not you and Uncle John running it anymore. It’s me. It’s mine. I just… I don’t want to let Mum and Dad down as well as the town.” Picking up a piece of buttered toast, she took a bite to stop her from saying any more.
The fine line Aunt Brenda’s mouth made was one Peyton didn’t like to see.
“You inherited it, Peyton. It’s been yours all this time. We have just been maintaining it until you finished university and decided what you wanted to do with it. Nothing is going to change unless you want it to.”
“I know,” Peyton said before putting a forkful of scrambled eggs in her mouth and chewing.
“You know, Peyton,” her aunt said, taking her hand.
Peyton knew this talk. It was one her aunt had had with her many times before. But the sadness in her light-brown eyes had Peyton’s heart aching.
“You don’t have to stay here. You can go to the city. You can go anywhere in this world and do what you want. Maybe see Cal—”
“No,” Peyton cut her off and handed her aunt the plate.
“But—”