though Julianna’s passion could sometimes get her in trouble—she was a bit of a hothead, after all—his sister loved with her whole heart. She did everything she could to make the world a better place.
Maybe God had taken the wrong sibling.
At his side, he felt Charlotte’s eyes on him. “What are you thinking about?”
Normally, a question like that would’ve sent him running for the door, but he had a feeling Charlotte would understand.
“I was thinking about Jules,” he said.
She shifted. “I think about her a lot.”
Cole’s mind wandered back to the day Julianna found out the truth about Gemma’s affair. She showed up at the door, forced him to shower, and then dragged him to her house for dinner.
She fed him pot roast and made him help with the kids’ bedtime duties while Connor cleaned up the kitchen.
She didn’t treat him differently, didn’t look at him like he was a failure. In fact, she made him feel normal. And for a minute, he almost believed there was joy to be had again, that just because he’d been unlucky in love, that didn’t mean it didn’t exist.
Of course, that feeling hadn’t lasted long, but it had been there for a moment, because of her.
At his side, Charlotte touched the photo.
“You miss her,” he said, aware that their collective grief could bond them together.
She nodded.
“I miss her too.”
“You two were close,” she said—a statement, not a question.
“We were,” he said. “After our mom left, we kind of had to fend for ourselves. I told myself I needed to take care of Jules, but the truth is, we took care of each other.”
“She had a way of doing that.” Charlotte smiled. “Of taking care of people. It was kind of her thing.”
He nodded. “She was special. Always put everyone else first. Sometimes I wonder if that’s why she quit performing. That was the one thing she did for herself.”
Charlotte looked away.
“But, in typical Julianna fashion, she turned it into something she could give back to other people. Nothing made her happier than teaching.”
“You really think so?” Charlotte started toward the door. “I mean, you really think she was happy here?”
He followed her outside, and they stopped on the sidewalk in front of the studio.
“I do,” he said. “I mean, not at first. She never told me what happened with dance or why she decided to quit, but I know it wasn’t an easy decision.”
“How do you know?”
He shrugged. “She was devastated. There was a program she’d been working really hard to get into, and when they didn’t take her, she took it as a sign. She came back here, broken heart and everything, and for a long time, I worried about her. She was so not herself. Sad. Mopey. Depressed.”
Charlotte watched him intently.
“You probably already know this,” he said.
“No,” she said. “Not all of it. I mean, I remember when she told me she was quitting. I tried to talk her out of it.”
His mind wandered back to the letter he’d read. Charlotte pleaded with his sister. It was clear Charlotte needed Julianna as much as the rest of them. Her death had to be weighing heavily on her. They had that in common.
Was that why she’d been crying earlier?
“I guess I wondered how she got from there to here,” Charlotte said. “And I always wondered if she made the right decision.”
“I don’t know,” he said. “But I do think she was really happy here. She met Connor a few months later, and they dreamed up this studio together. She had a great life, one I really don’t think she would’ve traded.”
“Really?” Charlotte’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears, as if she needed the assurance for herself.
“Really.”
She looked away, giving him ample time to study the curve of her shoulders, the slant of her nose, the smoothness of her skin.
She looked up at him.
Caught.
And yet, he couldn’t look away. A tear slid down her cheek, and instinctively, he reached over and wiped it away with his thumb. Their eyes met and he pulled his hand away. “Sorry.”
She gave her head a slight shake. “It’s okay.”
Neither of them moved for several seconds, held in place by an unnamed, invisible force. His gaze dipped to her lips, then back to her wide eyes, which seemed to be watching him a little too intently.
What would she do if he kissed her right now? Her lips were right there, full and so inviting. He pressed his own lips together, searching for common sense to talk him out of