“I heard you bought this place. I guess that means you’re sticking around,” Ben says, once he shuts his bike down. 

“I guess that’s what it means,” I respond, keeping any hurt or anger I might still feel out of my voice. 

Never show weakness to those that hurt you, I can’t forget that rule. 

“You’ve been dodging my calls, Junie.” 

I look at Ben, his eyes hid from me by his sunglasses. I hate that he still looks so good. There should be a law that when a man hurts you he should turn ugly as a mud fence overnight. 

“No, I haven’t.” 

“I’ve been calling you and you haven’t been answering,” he says, his arms crossed at his chest as he leans back on his bike. 

“I know. But I haven’t been answering them, because I don’t have anything to say.” 

“I’ve been trying to apologize, but every time I see you out, you disappear before I can talk to you.” 

“Merely a coincidence,” I respond with a shrug. 

“And the not answering my phone calls?” 

“Sheriff, I appreciate the gesture and the messages, but honestly, we don’t have anything to say to one another.” 

“Junie—”

“June. My family call me Junie, Sheriff. You and I are just… acquaintances.” 

“Damn it, I know I fucked up, but if you would just let me explain—”

“There’s nothing to explain. You and I are both broken. I just didn’t realize yours. You were trying to force yourself to heal with me, when the woman you really wanted was out of reach and I was just using you to try and not feel at all.” 

“Is that the way you want to play this, Juniper?” 

“I’m not playing anything, Sheriff. I’m just stating the facts.”