She noticed him wince and felt awful. Though she sassed at Graham and Jay, she was never mean to people. But Callum was an exception. She was a bitter and angry person because of him…and other circumstances. Sometimes, she just hated the world and the cards it had given her. Stupid, unfair cards at that.

“I thought I’d let you know that I’ll be in town for a while,” he stated, his eyes never leaving hers.

That one sentence stopped her heart and breathing.

Don’t show any emotions. Don’t give him anything.

“Why?” Her hands clutched the door and she dug her fingernails into the wood.

“Wow, Peyton. Not blunt at all, I see. I deserve that,” he said, his body still tense.

If he was looking for a, “No, Callum, you don’t,” then he was kidding himself.

“Why are you here? I thought you went back to the city. And why are you on my doorstep? And get off my mat,” she said, looking down at the customised mat her mother had purchased shortly before her death. It was worn, the ‘E’ and the ‘R’ in ‘Spencer’ hardly able to be made out.

Peyton lifted her chin and scowled at him. Callum looked down at the mat before he took a step back. He wouldn’t get why his feet on her surname offended her. It was like another slap in the face for her. He hadn’t been there when she’d buried them and seen their last names on their graves. He was literally stepping all over the Spencer name.

When his face met hers, Callum drew out a sigh and placed both hands in his hoodie pockets. Peyton placed her left hand on her hip, waiting, even tempted to tap her foot.

“One, because I need to be here. Two, I did go back to the city, only to get my things. And three, I came here to talk to you,” Callum said, answering all of her questions.

Peyton tensed. Frustrated by his vague answers, she straightened her posture and removed her hand from her hip.

Then she cleared her throat. “One, you don’t need to be here. I told you to never return. Two, grab your things and go back to the city. And three, I don’t want to talk to you. Now get off my veranda and leave!”

Just as she was about to slam the door, Callum stepped forward and pushed it, squashing her attempt at ending their conversation.

“What the hell?” she shrieked.

“Listen to me, Peyton,” he panted. His nostrils flared as if he were trying to control his anger.

“Why should I?” she asked as she gave up the attempt at closing the front door. He was stronger than she was; it’d be no use.

“Because.”

“Because why, Callum? You never listened to me. You never gave me answers. So, why now?” The anger boiled in her as her throat tightened.

“I had my reasons, Peyton. I’m here now.” He pushed off the door and took a step back, ensuring that he didn’t stand on the mat.

For a moment, she appreciated where he stood. “Well, I don’t want you here or anywhere near me. I made that clear back at the hotel,” she stated, crossing her arms over her chest. In her mind, it was the only way that she could protect herself from him.

“How long have you owned the hotel?” he asked with a sad tone to his voice, deflecting her previous statement.

“Why does it matter to you?”

The wind picked up, tossing his dark hair out of place. Callum’s face saddened as he placed his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

“It matters to me, Peyton.”

Peyton met his eyes. Grey and as beautiful as ever. She hated it. Her jaw tensed and she had to battle hard to ignore the heat that took over her chest. First loves were the worst kind—especially when they returned.

“It doesn’t matter to me, so leave me alone.”

When Callum took a step forward, Peyton raised her hand and placed it on his chest. The way her heartbeat picked up at the feel of it under her fingers made her mentally curse. His chest was far more solid than it had been when he was seventeen. Her breathing heaved as she tried to control the emotions that overtook her. Emotions that had been dormant for over four years.

He stilled under her touch, his eyes firmly staring at hers. The way her heart pained at all their memories together had her eyes stinging. She chanted to herself not to cry and pushed him back. Then she removed her hand from his chest and took a step onto the veranda.

“Fine. Legally, I’ve owned the hotel for almost four years, but my aunt and uncle have been running it until I graduated—not that you care. But I’ve officially been the owner for the last four days.”

Nope. No mention of my parents. Not a single care.

“So, it was like your first day when I showed up…”

“More or less,” she sighed. “Now, seriously, Callum. Why are you here? Why are you back in Daylesford?”

Callum sighed and pulled his hands out of his pockets. His eyes made it down to her lips, staring for a moment before he looked away. Then he turned around and glanced at the house across the street before he stared Peyton in the eyes.

“Peyton Olivia Spencer, I need your forgiveness. I’m here for redemption.”

The pain of her imploding heart seeped into her veins. “You self-righteous bastard. Get the fuck off my property!”

“Are you sure you’ll be all right, love?” Aunt Brenda asked as she handed Peyton her jacket.

“I’ll be fine. Jay fixed the dishwasher, and all I have to do is wait for Marissa’s email about her wedding and then I can concentrate on my plans for the hotel. I’ll be okay. Just have fun on the peninsula.” Peyton threaded her arms through her jacket and buttoned it before she faced her great-aunt and gave her a smile.

“But—”

“No buts. You always wanted to be on the beachside in winter. It’s my turn to take care of the hotel. It was always my responsibility, not yours,” Peyton explained.

“Who will make you breakfast each morning?”

Peyton rolled her eyes at the concern on her aunt’s face. And placed both her hands on her aunt’s shoulders. “I can make my own breakfast. How many times have I told you not to come over each morning? We talked about this. When I owned the hotel¸ you and Uncle John would go back to the peninsula. It was a deal.”

Aunt Brenda cocked a brow at her. “This eagerness of yours to get your uncle and me out of town isn’t just because of our retirement, is it? I’m guessing this is because Callum Reid is back in town?”

Peyton stilled, her mouth dropping. “How’d you know?”

A sad smile etched her aunt’s face. “It’s a small town, Peyton. You know how this town is. They would have never let this kind of news go unheard of. They won’t treat him the same. You know that.”

After walking over to the hallway table, Peyton trailed her fingers over the picture of her parents and smiled at their happy faces. It was a photo taken just before Christmas, before Callum had left, and before their accident. Peyton turned to her aunt and sighed.

“I treated him differently, Aunt Brenda. I treated him like…”

Aunt Brenda walked towards Peyton and hugged her. Peyton stood there a moment before she wrapped her arms around her aunty.

After a moment of embrace, Aunt Brenda took a step back and said, “You treated him how he expected you’d treat him, love. I’m sure that he knew what he was walking into. He broke your heart, Peyton. You treat him the way you believe he deserves.”

“I called him a self-righteous bastard after he said he came back for my forgiveness. I swear I felt Mum and Dad tossing in their graves, Aunt Brenda. You should have seen his face. I felt awful but…he wasn’t here when I needed him. He left me. I gave him everything and he left. I don’t think I could ever forgive him.”

The way his eyes had clouded and the pained expression on his face had had her almost sobbing. She hadn’t needed to see him in agony. He was the one who had delivered her such heartache. He deserved no pardon whatsoever.