Marissa Reynolds: Expect my fiancé at around one.
Peyton placed her phone back on the desk and her chin in the palm of her hand. The hotel was quiet—too quiet for her liking. She wished her aunt hadn’t sent all the staff on holidays; it would have been nice to spend her days with someone to talk to. A day alone in the hotel and she realised that there wasn’t anything physical or structural that she wanted to change about The Spencer-Dayle. Last night, she’d decided that it was the services the hotel provided that she could make her own. She just needed to figure out what those services could be.
Picking up the Reynolds’ file, Peyton read over the wedding plan for the fourth time today. She’d spent last night analysing it. Making sure that she made notes on potential issues the fiancé would have, and highlighting any problems she had so they could discuss them together. This wedding would provide enough income to last through the year without any other booking. It was the big one.
The sound of the bell rang, alerted Peyton to someone’s presence in the hotel. She looked over at the gold clock to see that it had only just ticked 12:21 p.m. She heard footsteps and then it went quiet for a moment before she heard a muffled voice. Upon getting up from the worn, leather desk chair, Peyton walked towards her office door and adjusted her high-waist skirt. With a deep breath, she palmed the handle and opened the door.
Peyton stepped out of her office and closed the door behind her. “I’m sorry, but The Spencer-Dayle is closed due to owner chan—”
She stopped when she looked over at the person standing by the front desk. She felt all breath leave her and her mouth fell open. Her eyes were wide in surprise as she took him in. He stood there with a careful smile on his face and his hands in his dress pants pockets.
“Hello, Peyton,” he said.
Blinking didn’t take away the image of him standing before her. Not possible. He couldn’t.
She stayed quiet as his posture tensed. He used to be so carefree. But now, he was dressed up like he was about to seal a merger with a careful, practised smile on his face. No sincerity to it, there for the sake of it. Glances were exchanged, but Peyton refused to speak, purely due to the fact that words were failing her.
His eyes ran down her body before he looked away and took in the hotel. It was different from how he would have remembered it. Just before her parents’ deaths, they had renovated The Spencer-Dayle, adding the old with the new, balancing it out until it was perfect. Little things had stayed, but most things had changed. Peyton followed his line of gaze until it stopped at a photo of the lake. A photo he had taken. For a moment, she watched a regretful smile develop until he shook his head and looked back at her. His smile faded just as quickly as she had blinked.
“It’s good to see you,” he said.
This time, he sounded like he meant it—which was a ridiculous concept for her to believe. He’d left. Not her. He could have come back but he hadn’t.
Peyton let out laugh of disbelief and shook her head, fighting the pain and heat that rose from her heart and up her throat. It was a pressure in her chest that she hadn’t felt in years. His eyebrows met and he looked offended by her reaction to him.
“I don’t know why you’re here, but if I were you, I’d leave. Right now,” Peyton warned before spinning on her heel and stalking back to her office door.
“Come on, Peyton. I’m early. I guess Marissa didn’t tell you that I’d be coming.”
Peyton stopped.
Marissa… The wedding…
The constricting pain of her heart, what it felt like, was something she had long forgotten. Her eyes prickled and she mentally cursed herself. Taking a deep breath in, she opened her office door. Once she’d closed it behind her, she leant against the door to stabilise her legs. Uncomfortable heat spread through her body. Emotions she hadn’t felt since before she’d turned eighteen. Since the moment she’d found out he was leaving.
Peyton let Marissa’s text message play through her mind.
Engaged.
For a moment, she was jealous. Marriage was a concept she could only be a stranger to. She watched weddings, but the thought of her own was something she couldn’t conjure. He was engaged, and that was her out. A line had now been drawn.
Peyton let that thought run loops around her head. This was her closure. He’d gotten what he’d wanted out of city life. Though her heart had always wanted a way back to him, it was her head that had told her to let go and move on. It had been easy to forget the pain of him when her parents had died. That pain had been worse. It had taken the life out of her. Only Graham and her aunt and uncle had brought her back to a world of living.