Sometimes Moments (8 page)

She didn’t want him back in her town. He had run off and made the city his home. It had been two days since he’d asked for her forgiveness, and during those two nights, Peyton had stared at the ceiling of her bedroom, wishing that God hadn’t put him back on her path. He had already taken so much. She didn’t want anything more than to live a simple life.

Shaking her mind to clear the thoughts of him, she picked up the menu.

You don’t owe Callum Reid anything, Peyton.

“What did I tell you, Peyton? Can you help me out here? Just once, I want to see your beautiful face in this establishment without some kind of paperwork in your hands. I run a pub.”

Peyton looked up from the wedding menu and rolled her eyes at Jay.

“Darling, I’m pretty sure that hotel of yours has an office,” Jay stated as he picked up her empty glass.

“It does,” Peyton confirmed and placed the sheet of paper on the table.

“Then what are you doing bringing work in here?” he asked with a raised brow.

“Fine. It gets lonely.” Peyton deeply sighed and leant back into her chair, her eyes avoiding Jay’s.

When his silence reached an uncomfortable level, she peeked to see a frown on his face. Jay’s shoulders sagged before he walked over to the bar counter and placed her empty glass on it. Moments later, he took the seat next to her.

“I like to hear everyone’s voices, Jay. That’s why I like being here. It reminds me that this town had my back when I lost everything. I know I can be annoying and I take up too much room in your pub, but sometimes…it’s all I need,” Peyton explained before he spoke first.

Before she could even react, Jay took her hands and leant forward, his eyes staring into hers.

“Peyton, my pub doors are always open for you. Every time I see you, you have papers in your hands. I say these little remarks hoping that you’ll tell me that you’re either getting them done early so you can hit a party or go to the next town or something. Anything other than the hotel. I keep waiting for you to tell me that you’re about to live your life.”

Peyton sighed. He was right. It was always work. She never went to the pub to just drink or hang out. She went to hear the voices of others who were living.

“Maybe one day when you ask me what I’m up to, I’ll have a more entertaining answer for you, Jay. One day, I’ll have one.” Peyton smiled before taking her hands back from his.

He gave her an honest—yet concerned—smile before he stood up and returned to his position behind the bar.

Peyton listened until Jay’s familiar laugh rang high and then she breathed out. His laugh was a form of remedy for her. Though he was so much like Peyton and Graham, he was far different from them. Jay was comfortable with his life. For Peyton, she was just managing.

Shaking her head, Peyton looked down at the papers sprawled on the table. The sound of a chair scratching caught her attention. When she lifted her gaze, she was irritated to see none other than Callum Reid sitting in front of her, his arms crossed over his chest.

Peyton closed her eyes tight and sat properly in her chair. It was a talk Callum wanted, and Peyton had thoroughly avoided it since his return.

“Peyton,” Callum acknowledged in a dull tone.

“Callum,” she said, mimicking the lifeless pitch in his voice.

His lips pursed and he eyed her. Silence was exchanged between them, suffocating her. When it reached an unbearable quota, Peyton started to collect her work.

“Why does everyone in this town love you so much but hate me? I grew up here, too.”

His question startled her, causing Peyton to lift her head and glance at him. His eyes swept over the pub, filled with disbelief.

He really doesn’t get it.

“Because you left, Callum,” Peyton stated.

He slowly turned his head until his eyes met hers. Callum’s jaw locked as if he were attempting to control his emotions around her.

“So did everyone else,” he pointed out.

“Everyone had their reasons.”

Callum’s eyes flashed and he abruptly leant forward. “And I didn’t, Peyton?”

“Yes, you did. But you didn’t give
me
a reason. They all left because they gave a reason. They told the town. They let people know. But you? You just up and left, Callum. You didn’t tell me.”

Callum flinched like her words had hurt him, which Peyton found ridiculous. “I had my reasons, Peyton,” he said through clenched teeth. “But that doesn’t explain why these people I’ve grown up with can’t even look at me.”

This time, it was Peyton who flinched. Her eyes burned. He still didn’t get it.

“Because you didn’t come back!” she shouted, tears running down her cheeks. That façade she hid behind crumbled. She no longer used a fake smile. For Peyton, this was as raw and as naked as it got for her.

His eyes grew sadder, but she didn’t care. Around them, the voices had started to hush until the pub had silenced around them.

“Look around you, Peyton. Nobody else came back!” Callum raised his voice.

Her heart clenched at the truth he spoke.

“But they did,” she sobbed.

Callum shook his head. “No, they didn’t.”

“But they did when I needed them the most!” Peyton cried before she wiped the tears from her cheeks, hating the weakness she was showing.

“What?” he breathed.

“They all came back—every single one of them. The town hates you because you didn’t come back. Everyone came back, Callum. My parents’ funeral—they were all there…except for you!” Her lips trembled as the heat burned through her chest.

“Peyton,” he said almost apologetically.

“No! That one day. Their funeral. That was the day you could have redeemed yourself, Callum. I don’t care if you couldn’t love me. I needed you then. I lost them and you didn’t show. It was their funeral, Callum. They died. My parents, they loved you. Don’t you get that? They loved you! They wanted me to forgive you, but I couldn’t, and when they died, I knew that I could never forgive you. You didn’t have to be there for me. You could have been there to pay your respects or to say goodbye, but you didn’t. The moment that I buried them, I also buried any hope of you redeeming yourself.”

“I’m—”

Peyton shook her head. “Save it. If you had just come back, I would have forgiven you for breaking my heart. I don’t care if you couldn’t love me back. I just needed your support and for you to acknowledge their deaths. They all came back. The only person who didn’t show was you.” Peyton sniffed and tucked her hair behind her ear.

She had vowed that day never to let him back into her life. The last glint of hope had died with the very last breath her parents had breathed that day all those years ago.

“Get the fuck out of my pub, Reid.” Jay’s growl had Peyton lifting her eyes to meet his. The vein on his neck protruded as he balled his fist.

“Look, I don’t want any trouble,” Callum said.

From the corner of her eye, Peyton could see him holding his hands up.

“Well, you chose the wrong town to return to…and the wrong pub. Get your sorry ass up and leave. If I see you ever make Peyton that upset again, I’ll have my fist to your jaw. Got it?” Jay took a step forward.

Peyton shot up from her chair and stepped between them. “Enough, Jay,” Peyton said, but he kept his eyes on Callum.

“You tell Graham that he’s back in town?”

“No,” she replied.

Jay’s eyes met hers. Disbelief took hold of his face. His eyes darkened and his face tensed. “Then you better tell him before he finds out from someone else, Peyton.”

“What are you, Jay, her protector?” Mr Preston asked and placed his hand on his son’s shoulder.

Mr Preston was just like Jay—chocolate eyes and a strong jaw. She imagined he was what Jay would look like once he aged. The way his lips curved tightly indicated that he would calm down his son.

“I’m more than what that little fucker ever did. I’m her friend. He couldn’t even—”

“Jay, it’s not your place to have a say. This is between Peyton and Callum. For far too long, this town has had an opinion on what happened. We don’t get a say,” Mr Preston said before holding his hand out to Callum. “It’s good to have you home, Callum.”

Callum stepped around Peyton and shook hands with Jay’s father. “Thanks, Mr Preston.”

Jay snorted. “This ain’t your home, Reid. Hasn’t been for a long time.”

Peyton kept quiet, staring among the three of them. No one in the pub spoke. It seemed like they were all holding their breaths.

“He’s a boy from Daylesford. Just like you, Jay. He’s one of us.” Mr Preston’s fingers dug into Jay’s shoulder, but Jay didn’t flinch.

“Then he should have been there when she buried Cindy and Stuart,” Jay growled and shrugged his father’s hand off his shoulder. He took a step and put his face as close to Callum’s as possible—to the point where their foreheads were almost touching. “You hurt her or even make her cry, you answer to me. Don’t think that I’m afraid to hurt a city boy like you. Don’t think for a minute that you’re one of us. You spoilt son of a bitch left behind something special. You weren’t there to see her cry. You weren’t there when she found out they’d died.”

Peyton winced. She had never seen Jay so forceful or terrifying. But she knew that he was protecting her. He had been there when she’d found out that her parents had died. They had been walking down Main Street when Sergeant Downs parked his police car next to them and told her the news. Hit and run. Her parents had died instantly an hour outside of the town’s limits.

“Stop it, Jay,” Peyton said sternly.

His eyes locked on hers and she shook her head at him—a warning to lay it to bed. It was the single worst moment in her life and he was digging it back up for the whole pub to hear. Peyton hadn’t just lost her parents. The town had lost their friends.

Peyton stepped towards her table and collected her work. She was stacking the files when she heard Jay say her name. That’s when she stuck her hand up at him to stop him from saying any more.

“You’ve said enough, Jay. I don’t need your protection or for you to make a statement on my behalf. Leave it. And you, Callum, are leaving with me before Jay does something that I’m going to hate him for.” Peyton reached over and took Callum’s wrist in her hand.

He tensed under her touch, but she ignored him, dragging him away.

As she walked towards the pub doors, she heard Jay say, “Don’t you fall in love with him, Peyton. Don’t you do that to me.”

W
ith a heavy sigh, Peyton placed her work papers on her desk and slipped out of her jacket, resting it on her the chair. She searched through the bundle of papers until she came across the Reynolds’ menu. Smoothing it out, she separated it from the other documents.

“I remember when this place used to be so…”

Callum’s voice stopped, and she turned around to see him looking around the office. It was far different than what he’d known when he was seventeen.

“Alive?” Peyton deadpanned.

She noticed his quick flinch at her words and smiled to herself.

“Not the word I was going for,” Callum said as he walked towards the bookcase.

“Well, things die. The heart of this place died along with my parents.” Her eyes followed his movements as he inspected the wall before facing her.