“Callum,” she called out, her eyes still on the diamond.
“Yeah, Peyton?” The hint of uncertainty in his voice made her heart tense. It was Callum’s being back in town that made her unsure of the decisions she had made since she’d last seen him.
“I’m Graham’s backup plan,” she announced.
Silence.
Peyton counted the seconds that ticked by. When Callum said nothing, she turned her attention away from the ring and looked at her bedroom door. A small intake of air had been taken before she walked towards it. Her footsteps echoed and she had no doubt that Callum could hear them, too. Once she got to the door, she turned around and placed her back against it. The faint sounds of his breathing reached her ears.
“Then he’s an idiot,” Callum said.
Forty-three seconds.
The sadness in his voice made her tense, and she stared at the bedroom window she used to sneak out of.
The neediness in her heart nagged her, wanting to know what kind of choice she was to him. Peyton leant her head back and glared at the ceiling before she turned her head to the side.
“If circumstances were different. If I made you happy and if you loved me back, would I have been your first choice?” she asked into the wood of the door.
There was a slight thump against the door and a sharp inhale of oxygen. “You would have been my only choice, Peyton.”
Peyton shut her eyes and softly said, “If only.”
“If only,” Callum agreed, and that’s when a tear ran down her face. Because those were the two words she had continuously wondered for the last four years. “I’ll wait by the couch for you.”
The sound of retreating footsteps made her heart clench harder. Tears continued to skim down her face, and she wiped them away as quickly as they fell.
“You’ve only ever been my choice, Callum,” she whispered to herself.
And there it was. The truth she had been denying all these years. Her one and only choice. And by July, she’d say goodbye. There was no future with Callum Reid. His return was purely to dust off their hands and move on with their lives.
Peyton pushed off the door and walked over to her bed before sitting on it. She picked up the Polaroids as water dripped from the ends of her hair and onto the towel. Reaching out, she took the almost four-and-a-half-year-old memories in her hands and sifted through them.
During their last summer together, she hadn’t seen him not snapping pictures of their time together with his Polaroid camera. They would halve the pile of photographs between them, and just moments before she fell asleep, she’d look at them before tucking the photos under her pillow.
After stopping on the last picture, Peyton set the others back on the bed and stared at the one in her hand. Madilynne had captured this particular moment. It was of Peyton smiling at the camera and Callum staring at her, oblivious to anyone around him. This was when she’d felt his love—if it had been real and not a figment of her imagination. Hope was a sadistic bitch and Peyton would rather they not cross paths. But this one picture filled her with just that. With a bittersweet smile, she leant the picture against the half-melted candle on her bedside table.
Standing, she placed her fingers on her promise ring and slipped it off. There was no regret or doubt in her mind. Just sheer relief to have it off. Once she’d opened the drawer of the table, she placed the ring inside and closed it before staring at the Polaroid.
I want sometimes moments.
“This is good,” Callum said, staring at her design for the dance floor by the lake.
Peyton sat behind her desk, her chin in her palms as she watched him mull over the idea to make the Reynolds’ wedding a success.
“You mind if I go over it, though?” he asked as he sat in the chair in front of her.
She let out a sigh. “So, it’s terrible then.”
Callum shook his head. “It’s not. It just needs an architect’s look at it.”
“How am I going to afford one?” she asked.
A smug look overcame Callum’s face. “You’re looking at one.”
Her eyes widened. “You did not become an architect.”
He nodded. “I’m practically Ted Mosby.”
She laughed at his How I Met Your Mother reference. It surprised her that Callum had become an architect considering he had grown up complaining about his father’s property development business and how he wanted nothing to do with it. But architecture wasn’t property developing.
“Well, Ted, how does my terrific design look in comparison to all the architect-y things you’ve seen?”
“It’s not hor—”
“Peyton!”
The roar had Callum stopping and stilling. Peyton quickly stood up just as Jay burst through the office doors.
“I knew it!” he growled as he stalked towards the desk.
“Jay, what the hell?” she asked.
“You slept with him?” he asked in disbelief mixed with pain.