Vi. I keep hearing Hunter say my name over and over as I lean against my kitchen counter, staring out the balcony window into nothing. Well not my name, but the nickname he gave me. The one that used to make me melt into him.

That bastard can’t call me Vi anymore.

That was something special. It meant something more to me. Something that he ruined.

The microwave beeps and I make my way across my small kitchen and open up the door. I cringe a bit; I need to go in and give the shop the money for the soup. I didn’t even realize I’d taken it without paying until I got home. Or that I didn't get any cough syrup. I sigh heavily. I don’t touch the bowl, since I don’t have an appetite anymore. I’m sick to my stomach over seeing him. I’m just going through the motions.

My heart sinks in my chest. I was cold to him, and I feel awful about putting that hurt look on his face. I bite the inside of my cheek and brace myself against the counter, staring aimlessly at the corners of the tile floor.

I may have been a bit mean to him, but I have to look out for me.

He’s the one who taught me that. That I have to take care of myself, and that means keeping that man at a distance.

I reach for the bowl as my cat, Boots, sprawls across the welcome mat at the balcony door. His tabby coloring nearly blends into the mat, but his paws are completely white. Thus the name, Boots. Usually when he does that, it means he wants attention and pets. That’s not happening right now, Boots.

I grab the bowl and slam the door to the microwave shut, as if it’s the reason I’m so pissed off and upset at the same time.

It only takes a few steps in this cramped kitchen to get to the small two-person table in the breakfast nook. I sit down and will myself to eat and stop thinking about Hunter.

But he was looking at me like he wanted me, and I’ve dreamed of that look so many times. I’d given up on it though. I stopped seeing his face and hearing his name. After four long years, he’s back.

The spoon clinks against the side of the bowl as I stir the noodles in the broth. It smells so good. It reminds me of comfort.

I’m anything but comfortable though.

Nothing’s been the same since he left. He didn’t just dump me and leave. It’s not that easy in a small town.

He broke up with me and left me ruined. Everyone knew I’d given myself to him. The way we were always together. The way I let him hold me.

I was proud of it before; I loved the way he held me close as though I belonged to him. But because of that, everyone knew. And even worse, everyone talked.

I force a bite of the soup down as Boots brushes himself against my legs. I can’t wallow over this. That’s exactly what I’m doing, though. Seeing him was like opening a wound that had only started to heal.

To add insult to injury, the asshole I dated in college told everyone that Hunter fucked me, as he so delicately put it. Adam asked me if I’d done anything before, and I told him. I trusted him. Then he ran his mouth when I ended things because I didn’t want to take things so fast. After that jerk I stayed away from men. Not that there are many to choose from anyway.

My cheeks burn from embarrassment. I’ve never been with anyone other than Hunter. In four years, I’ve never even wanted another man.

No one can blame me. I tried, but Hunter did ruin me.

Yet everyone in this town looked at me like I was some slut.

Tears prick my eyes, but I refuse to cry. I’ve done my fair share of that. I promised myself I was over him and over this damn town and their gossip.

Instead I focused on school and work.

My boss finally retired a few months ago, selling me the shop, so now I own the Sweet Treats Bakery.

I’m somewhat stable for the first time in my life.

And now he shows up.

I’ve got my apartment, my job and my cat. I don’t need him coming into my life and leaving me brokenhearted again.

I take another small bite as my phone goes off on the table. My blood spikes with hope, just like it used to.

Hunter?

I grab my phone and stare at it. It’s the bank.

I drop the spoon to the table, feeling absolutely pathetic. I thought I was over this! Anger rises inside of me as the phone rings again.

I take a deep breath and do my best to snap out of it. I need to answer this call. I need this loan.

But I know it’s Slade calling. This late at night, it has to be him… and it has nothing to do with the money I need. He doesn’t handle the lending department, but he’s been calling me.

This night just keeps getting better and better.

Slade’s father owns the bank in this town, and Slade’s the manager. I remember the last conversation I had with him and I grit my teeth. He makes me feel so uncomfortable. I’m not sure if it’s the way he looks at me, or the way he’s hanging this loan over my head.

He’s made it clear he’s interested in a date, but I don’t think I have those feelings for him. Everyone seems to loves him though. He’s good-looking, with a stable job and a well-off family. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

But then again, I haven’t felt anything serious for any man since Hunter. I groan in frustration at the realization.

Ring. I finally answer the phone, taking a deep breath.

“Hello,” I answer with a sweet, even voice.

I’m good at hiding my emotions. In a small town that talks, you learn how to smile through it all.

“Violet.” Slade’s voice rings loud and clear through the phone.

My eyes drop to my bowl of barely touched soup. This isn’t about the loan. I already knew it, but a part of me was still hoping.

“Hi, Slade,” I say, and my voice is somehow more chipper than I feel.

“Well, there you are sweetheart,” Slade’s deep voice comes through with a tinge of southern charm. “I stopped by the bakery, but it’s still closed. Now you’d tell me if things were that bad, wouldn’t you?”

I hate that there’s a tone of condescension, or maybe I’m just making it up. Either way, I feel the need to bite my tongue. He continues without waiting for a response.

“I’m sure we’ll have that loan for you soon, sweetie,” he says with confidence… just like he did the last time.

I finally manage a response, “It’s just closed for a few days while I get over this cold.” I pick at a pulled thread in the tablecloth.

“Are you feeling any better? I could swing by with something to cheer you up.”

I sigh heavily, hating that I’m so standoffish to Slade. He really does seem like a nice guy.

My heart clenches in my chest. It’s because of Hunter. I know that’s why I can’t let myself even consider being with another man. I don’t want my heart broken again. But I need to move on.

“Thank you, Slade. That’s real sweet of you. I’m feeling much better now though.” I stand up and take the bowl to the sink, tipping it and dumping the broth down the drain. It’s not even warm anymore.

“Well that’s good to hear. You’ll be able to go out with me this weekend then? There’s a bit of a get-together at Andy’s for the game on Saturday. I was hoping you’d say yes this time.”

There’s a pause at the other end, and I know I need to answer. He’s asked me a few times already, and each time I’ve had an excuse. The only one I can think of now is that Hunter’s back.

It makes me angry. I shouldn’t even consider that asshole for one minute.

I should go with Slade; it’ll help me deal with Hunter coming back. I feel absolutely pathetic that one look from my high school sweetheart brings back so much pain.

But I can’t deny that it’s there. I’m still hurting when I shouldn't be. And I need to get over those feelings and over Hunter for good.

“Yeah, Slade,” a smile that doesn’t reflect my emotions at all graces my lips as I reply with what’s expected from me, “that sounds nice.”