“I will not go to the city. I will not leave this town. And I will not see him. He’s dead to me and you know it. He didn’t even—” Peyton stopped herself. She felt the tears burn her eyes and swallowed hard, hoping they’d retreat.
Standing up from her bed, Peyton looked at her great-aunt. The heartbreak was always evident in her eyes. They shared a form of pain. Her aunt had lost a niece and a nephew-in-law, and Peyton had lost a mother and a father.
Aunt Brenda placed the plate on the bed and wrapped her arms around Peyton. “You need to forgive him, love. Your mother wanted you to forgive him,” she whispered.
Peyton stood there, letting the tears slide down her face. She had tried to forgive him for leaving her, but the moment that her parents died, the idea of forgiving him had become a thought she couldn’t comprehend. Breaking her heart, she’d get over. But not being at her parents’ funeral? That, she would never forgive. There was no point in forgiving. He’d left their small town years ago and never once looked back.
Two weeks of no bookings allowed Peyton the time to decide if she’d change what her parents had worked hard to establish. It hadn’t been her idea to close the hotel for two weeks. It’d been her aunt and uncle’s. Though in their early seventies, they had still managed to run The Spencer-Dayle while she’d finished her last year of high school and then university. But now, the hotel was Peyton’s and her aunt and uncle would be enjoying their retirement on the peninsula.
Holding her laptop bag close to her, Peyton walked up the hill until she met the path of trees that led up to the lake. She looked up to see that the leaves had turned into lovely shades of brown and orange. Leaves slowly fell from the branches. She stood there a moment and tried to settle her nerves. It was her first day as owner of her family’s hotel.
The moment her parents died in that car accident, Peyton had inherited it all. Her parents’ money, the house, and the hotel. They had rebuilt it after the previous owner had let it grow old with time. They’d seen the hotel by the lake as potential, and her parents had chosen right. It had become a popular tourist accommodation and brought income to the family and town.
After making her way through the lane of autumn trees, Peyton reached the end of the dirt path and glanced over at the fog that blanketed the lake. It didn’t matter how many memories she shared with him on this lake; she would always love it. The days she had spent with her father sitting on the pier, admiring the hotel were the memories she wished were her reality. But all it had taken was one car crash and she’d lost her parents forever.
Behind a few trees near the edge of the lake was a bench. The first Monday of every month, Graham Scott would meet her there. When she had started her final year of high school, Graham had been one of her best friends, and when graduation came around, he was the only one who stayed in the area. Instead of moving to the city for university, he stayed on his family’s lavender farm and enrolled in an online university course just like Peyton. What brought them closer were her parents’ deaths. Graham was the only one who could understand after he’d lost his mother to cancer when he was twelve.
Since he’d taken over the farm, she saw less and less of him. But they had stuck to their promise. The first Monday of each month—a morning together by the lake. Peyton smiled, knowing she’d see him next week. Squinting her eyes, she noticed someone sitting on the bench. She knew it was either Mrs Figs on her morning stroll or Mr Tucker feeding the ducks. Peyton walked over to the bench to say good morning.
She stopped just short of the bench when she recognised his baseball cap. Shaking her head, she cleared her throat.
“Think you’ve got your dates wrong. First Monday of the month is June second,” Peyton stated.
A chuckle slipped from Graham’s lips as he stood up from the bench, turning to face her. The large grin on his face was one she loved—so was his deep dimple. His blonde hair was just visible from under his hat. Peyton looked down to see a bundle of lavender in his hand. Each time she saw him, he’d bring her lavender from his farm.
“It’s a big day for you, Peyton. Couldn’t miss it for the world. Plus, it gives me an excuse to see you,” he said as he pulled her in for a hug.
The scent of lavender hit her nostrils and she smiled. It was the scent that was forever on his skin.
“Not a big day if you keep me from working!” she scolded before untangling herself from him. Then she let out a laugh as she took the lavender from him.
Turning, she looked out over the still lake and then at her hotel. It daunted her. The idea that she was now the owner of what her parents had once called theirs terrified her.
She didn’t want to let her parents down, but she found it would be inevitable. All she could hope for was that she wouldn’t destroy the dreams they’d built. She didn’t want to tarnish what The Spencer-Dayle meant to her aunt and uncle and the town.
As if he knew that her fears were consuming her, Graham placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly to reassure her.