Her heart throbbed painfully in her chest as she willed the car to return. But it didn’t. After the wind picked up and grey clouds covered the sun, she wiped the tears away and felt the nothingness in her body. Then she looked at the envelope. Her name was written exactly like Callum’s tattoo, and that’s when she realised his tattoo was actually in his handwriting. The knowledge caused her to sob as she ripped the envelope open.

Pulling out the letter, she unfolded it, and read it.

If you ever forget, it’s all on the back of the picture.

- Callum.

Peyton looked up from the letter and stared at the house across the road.

“What picture is he—”

Quickly getting on her feet, she ran into the house and then into her bedroom. She looked around her room to find the framed picture of the lake leaning against the wall below the windowsill. After picking up the frame, she sat on her bed and placed Callum’s letter on top of the blanket.

She turned the frame over, slid the pins back, took off the backing, and set it next to Callum’s letter. Her breath dissolved in her lungs and her heart froze the moment she saw it.

October 2 nd 2009 – I love you, Peyton Olivia Spencer.

June 29 th 2014 – I will never stop loving you, Peyton Olivia Spencer.

Two days later, life was the exact same as before, just different in some ways. The emptiness in her grew larger, and so did the aches. She missed him. Missed the sight of his smile, the tattoo cherry blossoms that ran up his arm, and the way he loved her.

Life had moved on after Callum had left town. At night, she’d lie in bed and think of him, stare out at the cherry blossom tree, and hope that he thought of her, because she thought of him with every minute that ticked by.

Peyton sighed as she looked around her. The small, square box that was her office barely fit her and Jenny. She shook her head and concentrated on the paperwork in front of her. Yesterday, she’d heard from the insurance provider—her claim had gone through without a hitch. Now, she was waiting for the building permits to be approved by the council. Unsure of how the town council worked, she didn’t hold her breath. For now, the staff was on paid leave until she figured out the next move.

Checking the time on her phone, Peyton saw that it was just after six p.m. She figured she would stay in the portable building for as long as she could, too afraid to go home alone. But then her phone buzzed in her hand at the new message from Madilynne.

Madilynne: You want to come to Graham’s for dinner?

Peyton: Not really. I have a lot of paperwork.

Madilynne: Piss-poor excuse, Peyton Spencer.

Peyton: I think I’d rather give you two alone time.

Madilynne: Better excuse. Are you in that shoebox?

Peyton: Yeah, why?

Madilynne: Go outside for a minute.

Peyton: Why?

Madilynne: Just do it!

Groaning out, Peyton set her phone down on the small table and walked to the door. She pulled on it twice, trying to get it unjammed. On the third try, she managed to get it open, surprised to see the person standing in front of her.

“Mayor,” she breathed.

Madilynne’s father gave her a smile just visible from the light above the door. Her best friend’s father was not the person she had been expecting to see.

“Hello, Peyton. How are you?” he asked.

“Ah, fine. And you, sir?” she asked nervously. Peyton had always liked the mayor, but his authority scared her.

He nodded. “That’s good. Listen, Peyton, I just wanted to express my apologies for the recent behaviour of this town towards you and the hotel. I do not know the details except for what Madilynne has told me. It saddens me to see such a lovely person like you be subjected to mistreatment, especially from our volunteer firefighters.”

Peyton flinched in surprise. An apology was something she hadn’t considered. “It’s okay, Mayor Woodside. I love this town. My parents loved this town. I wouldn’t be standing here today if I didn’t believe in the hotel.”

His smile grew larger. “As the mayor and not your best friend’s father, it fills me with joy to hear a business owner love this town. That is why I stopped by to give you this,” he said, handing her a letter.

Peyton unfolded it and started reading. Her breath fled the moment she read the words: building permits granted.

“This is impossible. I just submitted these recently,” Peyton uttered breathlessly. When she looked up from the letter, she saw the glint in his eyes.

“I was able to put them ahead of the pack as the father of your friend. But as the major of Daylesford, I was able to lobby and support your plans. The scale and design are beautiful. I have always believed in your parents, but you, Peyton... You are the image of sheer belief and determination. You are my inspiration to make this town better. I believe in you and your plans for The Spencer.”

As a friend of his daughter, Peyton threw her arms around him and graciously thanked him. Tears of relief ran down her face when she pulled away from Mayor Woodside.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” She wiped her cheeks. “I can start building my hotel next week.”

Mayor Woodside adjusted his suit jacket and said, “You may not believe what I’m about to say, but I am proud of you, Peyton. The things you have done in the last four years? It’s incredible, and I know your parents would be proud of you, too.”

“I appreciate that so much, sir.”

“You go on home now, Peyton. Tomorrow is a brand-new day,” he said before he turned and walked to his car.

Peyton looked back at the letter and kissed it before she whispered, “Thank you,” to the cold night.

She quickly grabbed her keys, her phone, and her bag. She couldn’t wipe the smile off her face as she locked the door behind her—the first smile she wore since Callum. After unlocking her phone as she walked down the path, Peyton quickly messaged Madilynne.

Peyton: Thank you for what you did with your dad and the town council.

Madilynne: I did it because I believe in you and your dreams, Peyton. My father does, too. Make us proud.

Peyton: I will do my best. This is for us.

Madilynne: No. This is for you. Do this for you. Goodnight, Peyton.

Peyton placed her phone in her bag and nodded to herself.

This is for me.

The moment she got home, she was too excited for sleep. She worked through the estimated quotes and made a list of all the things she had to prepare and the people she would have to call in the morning. She also would have to call June about next week’s album release party. She’d wanted the singer to stay, but June had insisted that she return to the city to make sure the record company agreed and the right promotions was done.

Peyton sat in bed as she stared at Callum’s blueprints for The Spencer. Her fingers ran across the way he had written her last name. It was all she had of him—a blueprint of her future. No matter how sad she was that she couldn’t be with him, she was thankful for their sometimes moments. They were the most beautiful description of the short amount of time they’d loved again. When she had thanked the stars earlier in the night, she had been thanking him, too, hoping that, wherever he was, he’d heard.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Peyton froze. She missed him so much that her heart had decided she would hear things. Shaking her head, she breathed out and began to relax in bed, looking over the newly designed hotel.