“No,” Jules interrupted, clearly trying to calm her sister with her tone and soothing touches to her cheek. “Not while you weresafe here at the clinic. I’ve kept tabs on him and worked with Cal to see him taken off the streets. I would never have let him hurt you. I promised you that long ago, and I meant it.”
Clearly Jules still wasn’t going to mention Chase had made it as far as the clinic. Probably for the best.
Abby’s breathing remained ragged, her gaze darting from him to Jules to the window, as if searching for something. What’s more, Cal read on Jules’s face an understanding that, despite the news of Hamilton’s death, her sister still had anxiety issues that needed to be addressed before she would leave the hospital. He sensed her disappointment that eliminating Hamilton’s threat hadn’t been a miracle cure.
For all Jules’s gentle care and comfort to Abby, Jules would need her own TLC today when they left the mental health clinic.
They stayed for another hour, and Jules finally calmed Abby enough to change the subject to her adoption of Joy and the kitten’s transformation from a flea-bitten terror to a soft, purring snuggle buddy.
“You should see the way that little cat rules my Lab, Pilot,” Cal added with a chuckle. “He’s like her grampa or something, and he’s wrapped around that kitten’s finger…or claw. Whatever.”
“I can’t wait for you to meet her,” Jules said. “And Pilot.”
Abby furrowed her brow. “Meet her? But…”
“When you come home,” Jules said. “Now that Chase isn’t a threat, you can start working toward the day you’ll come live with me in Winnipeg. Maybe start school again. Get a job. Get your life back.”
Tears formed in Abby’s eyes. “I can do that?”
Jules nodded and smiled through her own tears. “You can, Abby. Youcan.” Her tone was rich with affirmation and encouragement.
Abby laughed and choked on a sob. “I can!”
As they left the mental health hospital, Cal caught Jules by the arm and tugged her to him. “C’mere.”
She tensed at first, but when he folded her in his arms and pressed her close, she melted against him.
“I like your sister,” he whispered, nuzzling her hair. “I see a core of strength in her, a lot like yours. Despite everything, I believe she’s going to be all right. She just needs a little time.”
He felt her sag. “Time.” Jules turned her head to bury her face in his chest. “I was so stupid. Why did I think that simply catching Chase and locking him up would be some magic elixir to cure all her anxiety? And now…knowing Chase died is disturbing in itself.” She groaned. “Her breakdown didn’t happen overnight. It was a thousand little things that wore her down, so of course she’ll need more time to regain a firm footing.”
He squeezed her tighter and kissed the top of her head. “You love your sister. It’s natural you were hoping for the best outcome today. You’ve been trying to heal her in the only way you knew how. The way that seemed most logical.”
“But I should have known her anxiety wasn’t all about being stalked. I mean our parents hardly gave her a solid foundation in life. Their drinking and frequent disappearing acts were hardly ideal for Abby’s sense of security.”
And then it clicked. Had he really thought Jules could put a lifetime of broken trust and instability behind her and give him her heart so easily? She might be able to smile now, with her external stressor gone, but what about the years of damage inflicted by others?
He stroked a hand down her back and asked gently, “And what about you? It couldn’t have been a walk in the park for you, either.”
She stilled for a moment, then pulled out of his embrace and started toward the parking lot. “Doesn’t matter.”
He fell in step behind her. “What? Of course it matters!” When she kept walking, he snagged her arm again. He had to make Jules see that he wasn’t like all the people in her past who’d hurt her, let her down, betrayed her trust. Their future together depended on it.
“Jules, it matters, andyoumatter.” He took a breath then added, “To me. You matterto me.”
She blinked then glanced away, biting her bottom lip.
“Your parents weren’t there for you, either, were they?”
“I managed. I figured out pretty quick I was the only real parent, the only stability Abby was going to have, and I was willing to do what it took to take care of her.”
“And who gave you stability? Who did you rely on when your parents didn’t?”
She said nothing for several seconds, then cleared her throat. “I relied on myself.”
He nodded. So much of her distrust and sour view of people sharpening into focus.
“While raising Abby and earning an advanced degree in chemistry?” he asked, more as a statement of awe than a query.
