“Here,” Graham said.

She looked over to see him holding the flowers out to her. The bright-purple colour was truly beautiful. His family’s farm was famous for having the best lavender in the area. That’s why the town was so loyal to the Scott family business—The Spencer-Dayle being one of their biggest clients.

Peyton shook her head and gave him half a smile. She appreciated the gesture. “I can’t take them from you, Graham. Don’t you have to deliver them to someone?”

He shook his head. “There’s no one more important than you right now, Peyton, and I’m done with my deliveries,” he stated, his mouth tugging upwards, revealing his dimple.

Not wanting to hurt his feelings, Peyton took them from him. Then she brought them to her nose and inhaled the scent. Fresh and beautiful. It smelt exactly like her parents’ hotel.

“Thank you. I appreciate this,” she said, placing the bundle on her lap and admiring them.

“Where’s Callum? I don’t normally see you without him these days.”

Just his name made Peyton tremble. For a moment, Graham had made her forget. Now, uncomfortable aches filled her body.

“Gone,” she choked out. She didn’t meet his eyes, instead staring and playing with the ribbon that held the lavender together.

Suddenly, she felt an arm around her. Graham pulled her closer to him, and she rested her head on his shoulder and sobbed.

“I’m sorry, Peyton,” Graham whispered.

That’s when she cried harder. They both knew that Callum Reid was never coming back. People who left had the tendency of never returning.

The memory of her first Monday on that bench with Graham left her unsettled. Peyton rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, listening to the sound of the whistling wind outside. She lay in the darkness, reliving the memory of the day she had become best friends with Graham Scott. As the years had passed, he’d become more than just another friend. He’d become someone who she needed in her life. He was the peace and her sense of direction.

“Peyton?”

Her name was said softly before she heard a faint knock. Peyton eyed the door and was just able to make out the knob turning and then opening. At the sight of Callum stepping into her room, she quickly sat up.

“Everything okay, Callum?” she asked.

“Your phone vibrated,” he said as he walked towards her bed carrying a lit candle and her phone. Then he sat on the edge of her mattress and handed over the phone.

Peyton took it and noticed that she had a missed call and a text from Graham. She drew her knees up from under the cover, unlocked her phone, and read his text message.

Graham: God, Peyton, please tell me that you’re okay. Dad says the weather’s gone to shit. Let me know you’re all right. I’ll call you first thing in the morning.

Peyton: I’m fine. It’s just windy. Stop worrying about me.

She locked her phone and placed it on the bedside table. Then she reached for the candle, took it off Callum, and put it next to her phone.

It had been years since he’d last sat on this bed with her. Years since he last held her in his arms until she fell asleep. The light seeping through the gap the curtains had made allowed her to see Callum in the dark. He turned his head and stared out the window. After a long moment, he blinked and looked back at her, meeting her gaze.

“How many times did we sneak you out of that window?” he asked softly.

Peyton crossed her legs and sighed. “Too many times. I’m surprised my parents didn’t catch us.”

Callum let out a low chuckle. “Actually, your dad caught me at the gate once.”

Her eyes widened and her lips parted. “He did not?”

He nodded before he brought his legs up on the bed and crossed them like hers. “He was standing there with his arms crossed, shaking his head at me. They had known for a long time before we told them we were together.”

“What did he say?” Peyton asked, curious.

“Give me your hand,” he instructed.

She huffed and then shook her head. “What did my dad say, Callum?”

“First, your hand,” he said as he held out his, waiting for her.

She knew what he was about to do and she’d rather he didn’t. It was something he had done back when they were together. He would lean against the cherry blossom tree outside her window while she sat in the space his legs made. He’d rest his chin on her shoulder as his finger traced up and down her palm, whispering promises in her ear. Those were the days that she hated to remember the most. The days when she had loved him the most.

Her heart throbbed with cherished memories only they knew about. While people they knew had had meaningless sex with each other, they had been building what Peyton had thought was forever. She could almost remember the feel of the cool air on her skin and every trace that had sent shivers down her spin.

The light from the candle touched his palm, flickering. Peyton took a deep breath and moved her hand over his. Every fear told her no, but she was struggling to keep him away. Just inches from contact, he pulled his hand back and left Peyton to stare at his lap.

“You’re a tease,” she whispered, pulling her arm back closer to her.

“I’m doing this right,” he said.

She looked up to see a hint of confusion in his eyes, like he wasn’t sure of his next move.

But before she could reply, Callum crawled across the bed and sat next to her, his back leant against the headboard. He looked up at the ceiling for a moment before he turned his head to her and held out his arms.

She stared at him and then breathed out.

“There’s only one way we do this, Peyton, and it’s the only way I want to do it,” he said.

She tilted her head, trying to understand why she wanted to be near someone who’d broken her heart. But first loves were the ones that couldn’t be let go. Every poet and writer was right. First loves defined the person you became. They became memorable.

Breathing in deeply, she removed the blanket and moved into his arms, shifting before pressing her back into his chest. The tilt of her head allowed his chin to perfectly rest on her shoulder. After a moment of being still, Callum wrapped his arms around her. Just the feel of him holding her caused an immediate pang in her heart.

He turned her left hand over. “Your dad said we were terrible liars and I was a bad influence. He always knew when I snuck you out. As long as I got you home, he was okay with us. He said you were happy being with me,” he murmured.

She closed her eyes to stop the tears from flowing at the memory of her father and savoured this moment. Her time with Callum had seemed limited and she’d wanted to keep it, never having admitted that to him. This was a form of closure. Sometime soon, she’d find the goodbye that he’d neglected to give her. One she hoped had an explanation.

Callum’s fingertips trailed along her index finger and over her promise ring before tracing circles along her palm. Over and over again, he continued. She was slipping from her stance, her heart heating and throbbing. Peyton kept her eyes closed tight, enjoying the sensation of being lost in him.

“I was happy being yours, Peyton. I really was. I promised your father that I’d never hurt you and I failed him… I failed you and I failed us.”

The tracing stopped, and Peyton opened her eyes.

Callum rested their hands on her stomach, and she didn’t take her eyes away from the dresser that leant against the wall. The way his breathing hit her skin caused her to shiver unwillingly. Her attempts to conceal her shiver had been a lost cause.

“Are you cold?” he asked, wrapping her tight in his arms.