My apartment was dark and empty once I arrived home. My cat snuggled and purred beneath my feet but I hardly noticed. All I could think about was the store and Peter.

I couldn’t believe my eyes when he appeared.

Out of nowhere. Closed off and silent, his dark, brooding eyes holding back so much.

Why?

Didn’t he love me? Want me? Miss me?

I was prepared to tell him everything. How much I missed and loved him and how he never left my thoughts. Opening my mouth to reply and ready to run into his arms I stopped when he squared his shoulders and said goodbye.

He left.

He just left me, without any word or explanation.

I was gutted, my heart shattered beyond recognition.

His eyes darted to my left hand before he walked away. I knew he saw I was wearing his ring but he didn’t say a word about that either. Just stood there, his entire body tensed, his expression thunderously angry as if he was sorry and pissed off that I still had it, that I still cared.

Shit.

I was never going to wear it again.

Didn’t need his ring. Most definitely didn’t need him.

Asshole.

But why did I still yearn for him? Ache for his touch?

Need him, like oxygen in my lungs to breathe?

Pete – Edge – was my first love, first sexual experience, and he was my first and only heartbreak. Even after all these years my heart still stopped with one look at his face, my breath caught in my throat, my palms began to sweat, and my knees felt weak. He played havoc with all of my senses, and I burned with need, desire, and hope.

I still wanted him. With a bitter laugh, I shook my head. I knew I would always love him . . .

And he’s totally ruined me for anyone else.

Shit!

I had to get out of my apartment.

Unfortunately, I didn’t get far before I was cornered by my twat of a neighbor, the smell of weed drifting from the open door of his apartment. Was he waiting for me to pass by? That’s a little creepy.

“Hey Jennie,” Simon yelled, running up next to me as I quickened my pace. “I was hoping I would run into you.”

“Oh?” I asked, walking toward the elevator and pushing the button. Ten or twelve times. “I have class today.”

He smiled a happy grin, like he knew all about me, “I know. Just wanted to ask if you were coming Friday night.”

Tomorrow? Where? I searched my brain for any clue about what he meant.

“My party. It’s my birthday, remember?”

Oops, “I’m sorry. I’ve been so busy lately.” Maybe I could get away without giving an answer.

He shrugged, “It’s alright, but you’ll come? At eight?”

Dammit. I nodded, “Sure.” The elevator opened. “Happy early birthday Simon!” I yelled as the door shut, with more enthusiasm than I meant but happy to leave him behind.

I leaned back against the side of the elevator, the smile disappearing from my face. I hated all of the acting, the pretending, and the façade that my life was normal and happy. Five years after the death of my mother and little sister and all I wanted was to run away from the make-believe person I had become.

Jennie and her nice fake life. No thanks.

I lost everything. My mother. My little sister Leah. My fiancé. My house and my cat Fee, Fee, and all my friends, especially my best friend, Hayley. I missed her so much I could sit right here and cry.

Now I lived a monotonous lonely existence that never changed from one day to the next. Detective Paul Sims, the one who set me up with my current apartment in the high-security building, still kept in contact nearly every day and was my only real friend. He was sure to follow up after Bryce Hutchinson’s accident and inform me that I was protected.

Safe and no longer in danger since all threats were eliminated.

As long as I lived as Jennie Murphy and not Rae Stenson.

I hated Jennie. She lived alone, had no family, few friends, and never existed until five years ago.

I was Rae. The girl with a family, lots of friends, and who loved her boyfriend more than life itself. Correction, he was supposed to be my fiancé.

But Peter never came.

He never showed up. Never rescued me or contacted me. Never made any effort to find me.

Until the QuickMart.

He walked into my life for barely five minutes before he turned away and stomped past me, moving as if he couldn’t leave my presence fast enough.

I remembered the last day we were together, and all of his promises as the tears welled up in my eyes, falling down my cheeks before I could stop them. Lies, all lies. When the elevator opened, I kept my head down and rushed from my building, heading straight for my car. Sliding behind the seat of my black Mustang, I let my head fall forward onto the steering wheel. How could I have been so stupid? Why did I believe he still cared and wanted me after all this time?

My shoulders shook with my cries, my heart shattered and broken.

Was this my future? Day after endless day, feeling nothing but emptiness? Loneliness? Sorrow?

Yes, I was safe from my past, but I would be forever haunted by it too.

Five years later I’m living alone and still afraid to trust a single soul.

Sucking a deep breath into my aching chest, I vowed to close my heart off forever.

Fuck Peter Harding.

I wouldn’t be used again, not by him or anyone else.