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I guess that’s my answer. She doesn’t want to see me. She doesn’t want to talk to me. Acknowledging something like that tastes bitter in your soul. It cuts you and leaves you raw and bleeding. I pull my gaze away from her. I was wrong all this time. Junie’s not mine. She was another mistake. The only thing that I was right about was that losing her would bring me to my knees, because I’m sure as hell wondering how I’m standing right now.
“Hey, Ben! I have your order here,” Karen calls when she sees me. I see Junie out of the corner of my eye physically flinch when she hears my name out loud. Yeah… that message is received loud and clear.
Fuck.
“Thanks, Karen,” I respond, walking over to the counter.
“Aren’t you going to be eating with Junie?” she asks, confused. I honestly do try, but my gaze goes over to Junie before I can stop myself. She stares at me, and I see the pain there. I never wanted to be the one to cause Junie pain. Even though it feels like she’s killing me, I refuse to make her pain worse.
“No, afraid not. I’m on duty tonight.” My words are tight from the effort it takes to get them out.
“I… Oh… Well, sure thing,” Karen stutters, her face blooming into a deep red as she undoubtedly picks up on the undercurrent between Junie and me. “Let me just get your order bagged up,” she mumbles. Leaving me to stand here waiting, wishing I was anywhere but this spot.
It feels like forever before she returns and the place is almost empty tonight, making it silent, except for the soft sound of music playing in the background. Junie’s phone picks this minute to ring. The sound echoes in the small room, just as Karen comes back holding my food in a to-go bag.
“Hello,” I hear Junie whisper. My eyes close. Hearing her voice makes the pain amp into an area that I’m wondering why it doesn’t kill me. My heart pounds, cold sweat covers me, and blood rushes through my ears for a minute, drowning out Karen’s voice when she gives me the amount of my order. I’m not about to ask her to repeat herself, but I breathe through whatever fucking attack I’m having and do my best to get my shit together—at least until I leave this building.
“Here you go, Karen. Just keep the change,” I tell her. Since I order from here often, I know about what my order total is and add a ten to that. Hopefully it’s enough to cover the tab.
“Sure thing, Ben,” Karen says softly, repeating words she had just spoken, and I know she feels as fucking awkward as I do. I turn, order in hand, wishing I didn’t have to get near Junie’s table.
If wishes were horses, beggars would ride…
As I walk in her vicinity, there’s a secret hope that she asks me to stop. Maybe she would have. I’d like to think she would have if she hadn’t been on the phone. But just as I make it to her table, I hear words that stop that hope.
“Greg? Is that you?” she questions and that’s a fucking death nail. Is that the real reason I was pushed away? Fucking pushed away so another ex-boyfriend can return. I’ll never fucking learn…
Never.
I push through the door and walk down the ramp outside, stopping only to throw my food in the trash.
Suddenly I’ve lost my appetite.
Junie
Seeing Ben walk in leaves me frozen. God, I miss him. My arms feel so heavy I can’t lift them; my legs feel much the same, and I couldn’t find my voice if my life depended on it. I shift in my seat, feeling so uncomfortable under his stare that my breathing goes labored. I need to talk to him. I need to try and fix this. Gavin was right. I need to fight my demons. The problem is that it’s not as easy as it would seem. Greg—The Rat—nearly destroyed me, and I didn’t love him.
I love Ben. If he hurts me, if he lashes out, it would hurt me so much more than just physically. I know it’s not fair. I know I should feel safe with Ben. He’s done nothing to buy my mistrust. He doesn’t deserve the hurt I see etched on his face.
It shouldn’t be this hard to sort through the mess that is my mind, but it is. I feel like I’m suffocating, and the past keeps trying to drown out my present. I finally got brave enough to go to counseling again, but I can’t tell that it’s working. I can’t tell anything is working. I stay rooted to the spot, even when I hear my name mentioned.Damn it. Why can’t I talk to Ben? This is ridiculous. If I can just explain to him that I’m trying to work on my demons. If I could just tell him that I miss him…
My hand shakes as I start to get up. I brace it against the table so I can stand, fighting my nerves, my…shame.I’m going to have to tell Ben more of my past—more than I ever wanted to reveal.
Will helook at me differently when he knows how weak I really am? Will he hate me when I tell him that I am getting him mixed up in my head with my past?
I fight down the wave of fear and uncertainty that tries to drag me down. I have to talk to Ben. I have to see if I can fix this. There’s a very real possibility that he won’t even want to talk to me.
Just as I go to get up, my phone rings. I start to ignore it, because Ben is more important. I glance to my caller ID. There’s no name just an area.
Nashville, Tennessee.
There’s only a handful of people that could call my cell from that area. I have a new number, but I did give it to the two people I still stay in touch with. Really there are only three people who would really try. I cut all other ties, and I never looked back. Of those three people that might try, there are two people who mattered and one that I wished would fall off the face of the earth. There was Ryker and his manager Trisha. Both are people I’ve kept in touch with. Ryker knows a little of what happened between me and Greg. Trish knows nothing, but I liked them—especially Ryker. In a world where fake was becoming more and more prevalent, they were real people and they didn’t look down at me for waiting tables. They lived that life too at first.
The other person would be Greg. I don’t think he’d call. He paid me a lot of money and signed an agreement for my silence while all I asked is that he stayed away from me. I don’t think he’d break that agreement. He’d have too much to lose. Still, even as I think that, I realize that Greg was never smart. The world around me fades away—even Ben. I get trapped even more in the past as I answer the phone.
“Hello?” I hate that my voice wobbles. I hope whoever it is doesn’t hear it and my nerves don’t betray me, but I know that is probably just wishful thinking.
“Juniper. You still sound the same.”
