Page 56 of Hearts at War

I set out after college to go onto bigger adventures and actual challenges. On the drive there, I’d been so excited, full of optimism that I would succeed no matter what I set my mind to. And then living there was a new experience to embrace on its own.

I did miss the city life. The never-ending sights and scenes that changed. The diversity of people who came and went through the metropolis.

But on the other hand...

I sighed as I tapped my fingers on my thigh, scooting my chair in further.

On the other hand, thinking of Chicago was synonymous with thoughts of my ex. David didn’t belong in my mind anymore. He was the sinister part of my city experience. He was the dark force there, if I had to lean on Nance’s mentality.

For not the first time, I let my thoughts wander further. They left me, veering into dangerous territory that I didn’t want to visit for long.

What if I’d stayed?

I couldn’t have, not with David, but I wondered if it might have ever been possible to relocate away from his control but still stay in Chicago. I doubted it. Even though it was such a big place, it would’ve still been too close for comfort.

Swiveling my chair, I spun to face out the small window I had back here. I gazed out at this little view of Burton and knew that this had to be the safer option. The best escape I could manage.

Being here was a physical reminder that I wasn’t in Chicago. Every morning that I woke up, I was greeted with the cabin walls and shown that I’d gotten out. I’d escaped, and I was far from the ex who’d wanted so badly to control me like a pawn.

The distance helped. All the miles between us were stepping stones of reclaiming my independence. I hated that it felt cowardly to run, to flee and hide back here in this small town, but I tried daily to reframe my thoughts and convince myself that I had also been brave. That I was still brave, taking courage to keep away from my previous life where I’d been so certain I’d be more successful than I could’ve been if I’d stayed here.

A month and a half had passed, and while I wasn’t able to gauge my level of success here, I borrowed Janelle’s advice and tried to change up my perspective. It wouldn’t be fair to compare my success here to what I could’ve had in the city. Chicago and Burton were apples to oranges.

I’m succeeding. Just at a different pace.

I had this job, which paid decently for the cost of living here. It wasn’t an overly challenging or interesting position, but it wasn’t degrading me and making me feel ignorant or idle.

I had the little cabin, which suited my comfort on an elemental level. It wasn’t an ideal residence forever, but it wasn’t a crappy shack that would blow over from one puff out of the big, bad wolf’s mouth.

And Janelle was on to something about the general antagonism lightening up around here. Sure, I still got the looks and whispers, but I’d learned to change my behavior and just not subject myself to the public eye. And yes, Ashley and her friends would always see me as less-than, but I suspected she had that haughty, superior mindset about everyone in town. The owner of the candy shop down Main Street still tracked me through his store, clinging to his original suspicion of me that formed when I was a child. I’d earned three dollars pulling the neighbor’s weeds, and since my birthday had been soon, I hid the cash to buy myself a treat before my parents saw the money and took it. He refused to sell me anything, saying he didn’t want thieves in his shop. And still, today, he maintained that distrust in me.

But, others were chill. At the coffee shop, the previous owner’s son didn’t bat an eyelid at me coming in. He wasn’t a carbon copy of his grouch of a father. And at the bakery, where the older ladies behind the counter always nagged me not to take too many free samples, the woman behind the glass cases was polite and kind, treating me like any other customer.

There was hope. Maybe the longer I stayed here, the stigma and memories of how horrible my parents were would cease to matter.

I wasn’t in the mood to “unlearn” anything, though. Being independent and keeping to myself had served me well. It was how I’d survived, but I could also see how blocking out the world could have its downfalls.

It sure made it all too easy for David to prey on me...

I cringed, hating to think of him, and I turned back to my computer to get busy with work. Several minutes later, though, when I reviewed the donation list of things from the Grand River Ranch, items I was supposed to check receipts for before the county-wide holiday toy drive began, my thoughts led to Roarke.

Talking with him wasn’t the awful experience I feared it might be. That he’d come to taunt me about kissing him. Or worse, expecting to pick up where we’d left off.

I ran out of his cabin with harsh words, declaring that nothing would happen between us again. No kisses, no touching, nothing. And he’d scowled right back at me, on the same page.

His explanation about his ex-wife confirmed that he’d been screwed over in love and life. She sure had given him hell, and I supposed I couldn’t fault him for being so jaded, so stereotypically male to say he didn’t want or need drama from women.

It didn’t escape my notice that he’d been open with me, not pushing me for details about me. Like the night when I stayed at his cabin, he talked and shared. It wasn’t something I’d forced out of him. It didn’t seem like he was one of those people who liked the sound of his own voice, either.

But what if I do?

Listening to his gruff voice, low and soft in the darkness, was a freaking lullaby. The sexy, needy grunts he gave me when we kissed were so hot that merely thinking about them aroused me. And the calm, conversational tone he’d used in front of my cabin was soothing.

Careful, Heather.

I didn’t need Roarke to feel better or calmer. But I felt better to dial down this instant dislike that rose up from our initial meeting.

After work, I walked out to my car, surprised to see Nevaeh strolling down the sidewalk.