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“You look like you’ve lost a pound and found a penny,” Rosalee observed as she printed out the receipt for Cal’s room.

“Yeah, well, I suppose that’s what happens when you revisit the scene of a crime, eh?”

Rosalee gave a look then sniffed. “That or it’s what happens when you break up with someone you thought was different.”

“So town gossip has got hold of it already, huh?” Cal scoffed. “Well, just to set the record straight, this has nothing to do with Lucy. None of it is her fault at all. So don’t let people go around saying she had anything to do with this.”

“Not that it takes two to tango,” said Rosalee.

Cal leaned both arms on the bar, practically leaning over it. “Lucy was not at fault here,” she hissed. “Not in the slightest. This was all me.”

Rosalee gave her a speculative look, then nodded. “Alright, I believe you.”

“No reason for you to, is there? Not really.”

“No,” said Rosalee. “There isn’t. Not at all. Except…”

“Except what?”

“Nothing.”

“Except what?” demanded Cal. She was in no mood for this.

Rosalee sighed. “Except that things are different now, aren’t they?”

“Like how?”

“Like I’m not leaping over the bar trying to strangle you,” Rosalee said. “Like they’re not mumbling under their breath about you being a thief.” She nodded toward a cluster of men at the side of the bar.

“And that’s supposed to make things better?”

Rosalee shook her head. “You know, I did what you’re doing, once.”

“What? Ran away?” She wasn’t stupid enough to think that wasn’t what she was doing.

“No, cleaned out my parents’ house,” Rosalee said. She folded her arms. “Years ago now it was. My dad passed and mum wasn’t able to get around by herself, so we found the best home we could for her. Then my sister went back off to her family and I was left with the house to clear out.”

Cal was still.

“Took all of a day before I found the letters his fancy woman had sent to him. Didn’t read them all, of course.” Rosalee grimaced. “Still, I found them, and I knew what he’d been doing. Went on for years, it did, behind my mum’s back.”

“What did you do?” asked Cal, curious.

Rosalee glared at her. “Burned the lot of ‘em and never told a soul except you. Because that’s the best thing to do with the past.You can’t change it, you can’t undo it, so you turn your back on it and keep right on marching forward, watching it disappear in your rear-view mirror if you like.”

Cal felt a wobble in her chest. “And what if you can’t? What if it’s so intrinsically a part of you that you can’t get over it?”

“Then you’ll never be happy,” Rosalee said gently. “And that’s a shame. Because despite all evidence to the contrary, you’ve turned out alright, Callan Roberts. And despite what you might think, I reckon your mum’d be proud of you, being brave enough to come back here and face your demons and all.”

Cal bristled at the mention of her mother. “It doesn’t matter a jot to me what she’d have thought.”

Rosalee slid the bill across the counter. “Does it not? Cos if that’s true, I don’t see why all of this matters to you at all.”

Which made an odd kind of sense actually, now that Cal thought about it. Maybe because she’d lied, because what her mother thought did matter, had mattered. No, not what her mother thought, what she’d known. Because Cal’s mother had known the truth all along and had sat there with her mouth firmly closed and let the entire town accuse Cal of something that they both knew she hadn’t done.

But then there’d be no changing all of that now, would there? Not with her mother dead. Maybe she should have come back sooner, got some closure sooner. Maybe then she’d have been able to move on, able to love someone like Lucy whole-heartedly.

All of which made Rosalee right. Now she’d never be happy. She had to be content with living a miserable life all because of something that happened years and years ago.