Embracing Juliette (Texas Heroes: Station 9 #1)

Chapter 27

27

Dylan

“ S ee you shits Saturday,” and other loving farewells rang out as the next shift settled in and we left.

“Peace,” I yelled out as I jogged to my car, anxious to get to Juliette’s apartment.

Juliette and I had settled into a great routine. Thank God she’d forgiven me for being an overbearing asshole a few weeks ago and screwing up her plans for the garage sale. We were stronger than ever now, spending almost all our free time together, and when we weren’t together, we talked or texted.

At night, when I was working and Juliette was home, she’d send me pictures of antique helmets that looked like mine, determined in her mission to identify and date it. That would be cool, but I was just thrilled that Juls cared about it. That she cared about me. Our ongoing texts meandered through every topic, each of us responding when we were able to. When we were both working, it could mean hours between texts. Before Juliette, I would’ve been frustrated or bored by that, but I actually loved it. It was like we were in one continuous conversation, no start, no end, just always there with each other. That was the easy comfort we had between us.

So, for the last few days, it’d been really fucking obvious she was brushing me off. Something was wrong, and I didn’t know what. This entire shift, she barely texted and never called, and every time I called her, she had an excuse for why she couldn’t talk.

I let myself into her building and rode the slow-as-molasses elevator to her floor. I paused outside her door, listening for anything suspicious inside. Nothing. I knocked to give her a heads up that I was there, even though I’d been using my key since she gave it to me last week. No answer. Shit. I used the key to let myself in. The apartment was dark and quiet, but didn’t feel empty. “Juls?” I called out, my heart pounding.

“In here.”

I followed the sound of her voice to her bedroom. I stopped in the doorway and soaked in the sight of her, relief coursing through my veins. She was safe. One of the thoughts haunting me for the last few days was that she was hurt and didn’t want to tell me while I was working. We’d been fine since the day I’d practically accused her of getting hurt easily, but I still felt bad, and I’d worried that it would give her a reason to not want to tell me.

Of course, something was still wrong. But she was here, not in a hospital, and I didn’t see any obvious signs of injury or illness. Propped up in her bed, snuggled under the blanket, Kindle in hand. On the surface, she looked like she was enjoying a relaxing evening with a good book, but I knew her better than that. This was Juliette hiding from whatever was upsetting her.

“Baby?”

“Hi,” she said with a big, fake smile. “Everything okay?”

I sat on the edge of her bed and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. Now that I was closer, it was obvious she’d been crying. “Yeah, it was a quiet shift. You okay?”

“Um, good. Nothing. I’m just…uh, relaxing. I’m tired. Going to keep reading, okay?”

Fuck. She never talked like that when it was just her and me. “Okay,” I agreed calmly, even though every alarm in my head was blaring. “I’m tired too. I’m going to shower and then come relax with you.”

“Uh, okay.”

I rushed through a shower I didn’t need, but Juliette hated feeling put on the spot, so I gave her this moment to warm up to the idea of me joining her. Hopefully, she was using the time to prepare to talk, because I was not feeling particularly patient. I didn’t usually mind my schedule, but spending days away from Juliette when she pulled into herself was way too fucking long.

I quickly dried off, threw on a pair of boxers, and slid into bed, pulling Juliette into my arms, face to face, chest to chest, before she could come up with an excuse to leave. She threw her arms around me and pulled herself in even closer. Thank fuck. “Hi, baby,” I whispered into her hair as I rubbed her back.

“Mmm.”

“I love you, baby. I missed you so much.”

“Mm hmm.”

Damn. No words.

“You know, it used to be that after a long shift, I couldn’t wait to get home. As soon as I locked my door behind me, it felt like I’d locked all the troubles of the world outside. I was safe and free in my home, and I could finally take a deep, cleansing breath. But now, the thought of going back to an empty apartment does nothing for me. This right here feels like home. You, in my arms. Breathing you in. I just want to stay right here with you forever.”

Juliette hugged me tighter and kissed my chest where her head rested on me. Still no words.

“What’s going on, baby?” I whispered gently.

She shrugged, rolled over in my arms, and picked her Kindle back up.

“Juls?”

“I just want to read.”

I sighed. “Okay, baby. I’m here if you want to talk.”

She nodded, clutched my forearm to her chest, and turned her attention back to the book. Damn.

A little while later, I shifted in the bed and might have made a noise. I’m not sure, but maybe some of my frustration came through.

Juliette sprang up to sit next to me. “You want to know what’s wrong? You want to hear all about how mortified I was? Well, I don’t want to tell you! Enough people were there to witness it, I don’t want you to know too! I don’t want you to know, Dylan!”

“It’s okay, baby, you don’t need to tell me. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what? That you pushed me to be lead? You should be, I hate it! I shouldn’t have listened to you! I knew I couldn’t do it! Or are you just sorry in general that I’m a fuck up? I’m sorry too. Sorry for all the dumb things I do. Want to find someone better to date? That’s okay, I?—”

“Juliette! Stop!” I pushed back to sit against the headboard and pulled her into my arms.

“Sorry,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes as the anger faded, leaving just sadness in its wake. She sucked in a deep, shuddering breath. “So apparently there’s a big meeting at the district’s administrative building every year. The leads had all been invited to it before I was actually lead and they realized a few hours before that no one had told me. I asked what to expect, and they said it’s mostly listening to the speakers and that I’d just speak briefly about the OT/PT department. I tried to get more information, but they all brushed it off like it was no big deal, like I was being silly to worry about it. I wrote myself a few notes about the department and went.

“I walked into the conference room and it was filled. I didn’t know most of the people, but the speaker introduced the district superintendent, the whole board of directors, and principals from every school in the district. The others were people like me: a few teachers, therapists, and psychologists from each school. All the important people spoke first, then they got to everyone else, like me, and even though they said earlier I would just talk from my seat, everyone was going up to the podium. And they were speaking way longer than I was prepared for.”

She took a shuddering breath, and I squeezed her gently for encouragement.

“I put my bag on the back of my chair, like most girls do, but it kept falling off. I thought I fixed it, but I guess not, because when I stood and walked behind my chair to the podium, I almost tripped over it. Then I got up to the podium and said ‘Goblithunk blahduhblah fudripatgo mepodblah.’ That’s an exact quote.”

“Oh, baby.” I rubbed circles over her back, trying to soothe her. Trying to calm myself too, if I was being honest. I wanted to beat up every asshole who’d ever made her feel bad about herself. But I knew if I got upset, she’d clam up, and I needed her to keep opening up to me.

“I just don’t get it. I’ve been working with these people for years. They’ve all heard me talk. They’ve heard me present at meetings. Why did they ask me to be lead? How did anyone think I’d be good at it? When I asked what I had to say at that meeting, why didn’t anyone know that it mattered more to me than other people, that I needed to be prepared? Are people that blind? Do you know what they called me and the other representatives? They called us ‘The voices of our schools.’ Who the fuck decided I should be the voice of the school?”

“It just shows how much they like and respect you, that even with your speech, they still think you can do it. Yes, there are other OTs who can speak clearer than you, but that doesn’t make them a better lead therapist. It doesn’t matter if their every word is understood if those words don’t have the knowledge and passion that yours do.”

“It doesn't matter if I say the most brilliant thing in the world if no one understands it.”

“You’ve adapted better than that, baby. The changes you made to the therapy department have been so well-liked that no one has any idea you did it to avoid talking. Everyone loves how you started sending weekly emails instead of having meetings. You reworked the entire paperwork procedure so all the forms and papers are easy to find, and sent everyone a list of what’s available. That helps everyone, and no one would guess you did it so people wouldn’t have to ask you. I bet in meetings, they love that you listen more than you talk, and you only say the most important things. No one likes people to go on and on at those meetings. And when you do talk, I’m willing to bet it’s pretty clear, because I know you love your job, you’re great at it and you know you’re good at it, and your speech is at its best when you feel comfortable and confident. Not only that, but because everyone respects you and knows you’re good at your job, I bet they listen carefully and give you the time you need to speak without feeling rushed. I’m very sorry it went so badly in front of all those people. But please, don’t let that negate all the other times you’ve been great. I know you’re proud of yourself for being lead, and I’m so proud of you too, Juls. Don’t let one bad time overshadow all the good.”

“Thank you. Yes, you’re right, those things have been good. And I am proud of myself for being generally competent as lead therapist. It’s something I never thought I’d be able to do, and I love that I can. But, it’s not enough. Yes, sometimes I can rework things to be better for me. Sometimes I can talk to people who are patient at listening to me.”

She pulled back to look at me with the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen, tears rolling down her face. “But that’s not enough. We shouldn’t be proud that I’m good at avoiding the things I’m not good at. It’s not enough to only be capable when things are easy and just right for me. I was fooling myself and everyone else into thinking I’m more than I really am. And that’s dangerous. What if someone trusted me to deliver an important message and I couldn’t do it? They did do that, at that meeting. Yes, I’m mortified that I embarrassed myself in front of all those people, including important people and people who don’t know me, so now that’s all they know. But more than that, it proved that I was right when I used to just eke by, avoiding anything more. I want to go back to just keeping my head down and getting through the day without calling attention to myself. If I wasn’t lead, they never would’ve asked me to go to that meeting. I just want to go to work, then come home to a quiet house and read. If I mess up dinner, or forget about it altogether, or if I’m late to everything, it didn’t matter when it was just me. This is all too much, it’s more than I can do. I’m going to disappoint everyone. Including you.”

My heart was breaking for Juliette. I’d welcome her anger right now. Anything besides this soul-deep sadness. My chest physically ached hearing her talk about herself so badly.

Oh, fuck. The thought that just popped into my head felt like a knife. Had I done to Juliette what Kayla did to me? Juliette had been satisfied with her status quo. Did I pressure her to do something she didn’t want? Did I make her feel like she wasn’t enough the way she was?

God, I hoped not. She’d always been perfect. What could I do now though, other than encourage her to keep going? If I even hinted at her quitting the lead therapist position, she’d take it as a lack of faith in her. And worse, if she did quit, she’d always believe that she was unable to do it.

No, quitting wasn’t an option. She had to push through this.

Desperation and resignation were warring inside her.

I knew she believed every heart-wrenching word she’d said, but I also knew there was a spark deep inside her, fighting to hold on to hope.

I’d dedicated my career to extinguishing fires, but right now I wanted to coax that spark to ignite. I wanted to protect it and feed it and nurture it, to watch her soul catch fire. I wanted that spark to grow until its light pushed back all the shadows and darkness. I wanted the light and warmth to fill her, for her soul to dance like the flames.

This was the most important job of my life. I was going to be this woman’s hero, to reignite the fire inside her that she was trying to snuff out in a desperate attempt at self-preservation.