“If you don’t tell her, I will! She doesn’t deserve this. You shouldn’t have come back!” Graham yelled.
Peyton and Madilynne had stumbled across the heated argument that Graham had been involved in.
“I know that, Graham. I’m trying to fix things.” Callum’s voice drew out the air from her lungs. She couldn’t see him from behind Graham, but she heard him.
“Peyton, what’s going on?” Madilynne asked next to her.
“You deserve my fist in your face. How dare you do this to her. I’ve spent over four years trying to help her and you come back and ruin her all over again.”
“Whoa. What’s the issue here?” Madilynne asked.
Graham turned around, and Peyton’s eyes met Callum’s.
“Oh my God,” Madilynne breathed out and looked at Peyton.
Peyton ignored her and stared at Callum. She didn’t understand the hurt and pain in his eyes. And he wouldn’t let her. So she slid her gaze to Graham, and an unspoken apology consumed his eyes.
Graham swore out loud and ran his hands through his hair before he walked to her. “I’m sorry, Peyton. I shouldn’t have done that to you on Monday. It’s the first Monday I’ve missed. I was angry and I shouldn’t have been. But this, Peyton? This, you don’t deserve. You don’t deserve what he’s doing to you. You’re one of the best people I know and it’s not fair!”
“Graham,” Peyton said before he wrapped his arms around her. She breathed in the lavender fragrance that lingered on his clothing and hugged him. She had missed him. The concept of losing him was one she couldn’t fathom.
“You have to walk away now, Peyton. He’s only going to hurt you. Please walk away,” Graham begged.
Peyton blinked slowly before she said, “It’s too late, Graham. I’m sorry.”
In that moment, she chose. She chose Callum Reid breaking her heart over salvation with Graham Scott.
Graham untangled his arms from around her body and took a step back. “I want to say that I’m disappointed in you but I’m not. I get it. I get why he’s doing this. I would do it, too. Just know that I’m always here, Peyton.”
He didn’t let her reply. Instead, Graham walked past her and down Main Street.
“I’ll go after him. I’ll speak to you later, Peyton,” Madilynne said before she left Peyton and Callum alone.
Alone with Callum was not what she wanted. Because all she wanted to do was kiss him, feel him, feel pleasure because of him, and forget the impending pain.
She looked up at the terrified expression on his face. No words were shared, only glances. She should listen to Graham. She should also listen to the voice in her head that was telling her to run and never look back. But instead, her heart instructed her to stay.
“You’re going to hurt me, aren’t you?” she asked in a small voice, needing his confirmation.
Callum’s jaw clenched before he said, “Yes.”
Peyton nodded, allowing her entire body to feel the ache in her chest. “What did you say to Graham?”
He didn’t blink as he said, “The truth.”
Peyton pressed her lips together as she tried to fight back the tears. The nearing end terrified her. They were close to reaching it.
“And what is the truth?” she asked as she took a step forward and grabbed his jumper in her hands.
He remained silent.
“Please tell me,” she pleaded, making sure his eyes never lost focus on hers.
Callum shook his head.
“Please,” she begged one more time.
“Peyton,” he warned. His hands were over hers, trying to pull away from her.
His refusal was one her heart appreciated. The moment she knew the truth meant the end of them. And as hard as she fought against him, she wanted Callum to stay, which meant the truth couldn’t come to light just yet.
“Callum.” She gripped his shirt tighter.
His nostrils flared as he held her harder. “I’m calling it, Peyton.”
Her heart stopped. The staples that held it together were slowly and painfully being removed one at a time.
“Please don’t,” she begged softly.
“Super—”
She pulled on his shirt to find his lips. Crashing and burning—her heart did both. He tried to pull back, but she kissed him harder, begging him to keep his mouth on hers. This was what she had missed. The attraction, the want, and the need he resisted between them. His lips moved against hers, prolonging the inevitable. Prolonging the safe word being said out loud. Prolonging their goodbye. Prolonging the death of her heart.
Painfully perfect.
It was the only way she could describe it. She was at fault for this, at fault for a lot of things. But right now, this was right. It was always right when she was with him. They fit. They made sense. At least she believed so.
His hands held her shoulders, steadying the pace, and her knees went weak. The breathless whisper of her name had her holding on to his shirt. Every kiss of hers was answered with his own desperate and willing ones.