Page 2 of Hearts at War

Slowing at the next stop sign, I leaned over to peer in the direction of the grocery mart. “Maybe I should stop there for a few things.” My stomach had been grumbling for the last two hours of the drive. I didn’t stop because I wanted to just get here and settle in for the night, but I didn’t count on Eric having groceries for me. He’d been helpful enough to find me an apartment in town, but I was sure that was the extent of his hospitable intentions.

Just the essentials. Bread. Peanut butter. Some fruit.

Living in Chicago trained me to favor quick, limited shopping trips for food, but I imagined most folks in Burton still drove the fifty minutes to the nearest Walmart to do the bulk of their grocery shopping.

That’ll have to wait. Besides, I wanted to see how much room I had to work with at this apartment. It couldn’t be large. The kitchen would probably run on the smaller side, like what I was used to in my apartment in Chicago.

No, not my apartment. My stomach knotted as I recalled the details of the place I shared with my ex. At least, in the beginning, it was supposed to be a mutual arrangement like that. A boyfriend and girlfriend cohabiting. But it had turned into something worse so quickly, so—

Stop. He’s not here.

I parked at the food mart and slammed the gear stick in place with a rough shove. A deep exhale punched past my lips as I consciously ordered myself to stop going down that train of thought.

I wouldn’t have to contend with a roommate, a boyfriend, or an ex here. No one would control me here. And nothing could stand in my way of finding a path back to independence.

The first step in shutting out the memories of my past was to avoid thinking about David. At all. Starting now.

Once more, my stomach growled in hunger, and that was all the push I needed. I’d run in for a few things, hop back in my car, and go check out this apartment. Eric texted earlier that he’d be at the bar downtown. I only had to tell him when I arrived and he’d hand over the key from the landlord, someone he knew.

After all, everyone knew everyone’s business in a town this small. That fact was proven as soon as I entered the mart and grabbed a basket.

“Are you serious?” the woman at the cash register said upon my entrance.

Oh, come on. Not now. Ashley Venna? I had to run into my high school nemesis on my first day back? If that wasn’t a bad omen, I wasn’t sure what else could be.

“Heather?” she sneered, raising her brows and emphasizing her astonishment. “Heather James?”

I reined in my temper at her instant disdain. “The one and only,” I quipped dryly.

“Oh my goodness. Are you serious?”

“You already asked that,” I said, deadpan.

“Oh. My. Really?” She stood, getting off the high stool she’d sat on behind the counter. Her phone was set face-down on the worn wood surface. I bet she struggled to stay off it with no chance of a real life here. But she ignored it now to turn all her shock and judgmental sneer on me. “What are you doing back here?” She noticed the few essentials I’d already put in my basket.

I held the basket up higher as a prop. “Getting some things.”

“Yeah, but like, to stay? Are you moving back home?” She snorted an incredulous laugh that sounded like the same nasally bray she did when we were younger. “Oh, my goodness. I heard someone say you were coming back home, but, like...” She laughed, smiling smugly as she scanned my things on the counter. “Like why? You made such a fuss about moving away. And, lo and behoove—”

“It’s lo and behold.”

“—here you are.”

“Here I am,” I agreed without emotion. I wouldn’t give her the ammunition of knowing it grated on my nerves to be back in Burton. I was never welcome before, and I wouldn’t be now. Every town acted like a family, for better or worse. Where the Venna family was the golden child, the James family was simply the black sheep. There was no changing that, and I was well aware I would face similar treatment from the other “lifers” here.

“Aww. Couldn’t handle the big city life after all?” she teased as she bagged my things.

I swiped my card without making eye contact. “Aww. Couldn’t make anything out of yourself other than being a cashier at a convenience store?” That quip was fueled on snark and fed by my lack of patience. I didn’t have to stoop to her level. I never wanted to, but something about her pushing my buttons like this fried my censor and ruined my tolerance for criticism.

She huffed. “Nice to see you’re still the same bit—”

I rolled my eyes and grabbed my bag, walking out before letting her think I’d listen to her drivel.

Minding my own business was how I survived before, and I planned to make that my mantra again. I could keep my head down, work, and avoid interacting with the townsfolk. That was the only solution I could think of in order to not go crazy here.

And minding my own business shouldn’t be a hardship around here. I was already an introvert by nature. I preferred to be a homebody anyway. As I got in my car again and picked up my phone, I sighed and realized I’d be able to keep to myself a lot better once I was settled into my apartment.

Heather: Hey, Eric. I’m here. I’m parking on Main now.