“No, you did not.”
The air grew stilted around them. Kate kissed the side of his neck again.
Then she told him, “You were never to blame, Jude. You weren’t at fault. You met a woman who was smart and beautiful…and you fell in love. You didn’t know about the battle she waged in her mind. She wasn’t strong and powerful like you, Jude. Even at your worst, at your most devastated, you still possessed those characteristics. Annalise never did—not even at her best. And that’s traumatizing unto itself. She let it all fester…not seeking help, as she should have. As I wish I could have recommended and offered…had I known her.”
“Kate… There’s something I never asked you before.” His tone was dark and shrouded. A more ragged intensity exuded from him.
Her head lifted. “What, Jude?”
“Am I a predator? Was I somehow instinctively drawn to her vulnerability? And I—”
17
“No, Jude.” Kate shook her head, vehemently. “Don’t ever think that. That’s not you at all. And… I know you well enough to say that, right? I’ve been in your head for years.”
And because of that, she also knew precisely where this jagged thought of his was coming from…what he’d next query. A part of her wanted to stop him in his tracks. To urge him to let this particular sentiment remain silent and unanswered.
But Kate didn’t stem breakthroughs. Even when they involved Jude and his torment—and held the potential to lead to an ugly cry the moment he walked out her door.
“You don’t think I subconsciously preyed upon her weaknesses?” he asked as he gazed at Kate over his bare shoulder.
“What did you ever deny her, Jude?” Kate rationally countered.
“Not a damn thing,” he was quick to say, clearly not having to think twice about it. “I met her, I wanted her and I let her know it. When I realized I was in love with her, I told her. I didn’t hold back. I didn’t wait for her to say it first, even though I knew she was feeling it, too. I didn’t play any games, Kate. In my mind, I acknowledged she was the real deal and I could handle all the next steps that came with that realization.”
“She couldn’t.”
“Why?” he challenged.
“That’s a question we’ve already addressed, Jude. And you’ve reconciled it. She honestly wasn’t capable of trusting what you two were building. She had no faith in your relationship, because she had no faith in herself. It had nothing to do with your actions, Jude.” Kate leaned back. “Why did you just pose that question?”
Jude shifted slightly, so he could look at her. He said, “I know your weaknesses now.”
Kate’s breath caught, but for a second. Her gaze softened and she briefly pressed her forehead to his. Then said, “You’re not going to prey on them. That is not who you are, Jude McMillan.”
“It is w
hen I fight.”
“That’s tactical. Strategic. Survival instincts. Something totally different.”
“What if it’s not?” he asserted.
She whisked her fingers through his disheveled hair.
“Jude, you’re spinning because of this case and because you’ve been spending time on my couch—and not while I’m charging you, picking your brain and taking notes,” she teasingly said, hoping to inject a little light into their dark conversation.
“Have I mentioned lately how much I enjoy your sense of humor?”
Kate laughed softly. “Not lately, but thank you. Point being, Jude… You offered honesty and forthrightness in your relationship. You are not at fault.”
He pushed out of the chair and stood.
“Annalise accepted full culpability, releasing you of all blame, all guilt. It’s time you release yourself of the same, Jude.”
Kate got to her feet and handed over his shirt.
Jude slipped into it, buttoned the flap and folded the sleeves back to his forearms, having pocketed the diamond-studded links when he’d undressed earlier.