“That doesn’t mean you can’t still mourn what you’ve lost. He stole your innocence that day. You’ll never look at the world the same again. Acknowledging that doesn’t make you any less grateful for being alive today. You survived hell and turned that pain into a calling to serve and protect the people of Charleston. That’s something to be proud of.”
She was quiet for a long time, face locked in a scowl as she worked through what he knew were heavy emotions. When she finally lifted her head and met his gaze, a renewed determination was in her eyes. “Thank you for telling me about what happened that night. I know reliving those hours wasn’t an easy thing to do.”
When she stood, and he shook her hand, it disappeared inside his, the reminder of how small and fragile she’d been that night like a punch to the gut.
She’d survived the impossible. If the kidnapper was still out there, biding his time, he was in for one hell of a surprise.
15
Gabe was quiet Wednesday morning when I walked through the office door. My normal cup of coffee wasn’t ready and waiting, so I knew immediately that something was wrong.
My assistant’s usually bright brown eyes were puffy in the corners, weighed down by a sleepless night and what looked like more than a few tears. I was struck by the way obvious sadness had deepened his already dark features. But instead of looking haggard or worn down, Gabe was a vision of human fragility. I knew him well; something had rocked him to his core, and he was struggling to hold on to his composure.
The need to break him so I could put him back together stirred inside me, but I forced it down again. This was not the place. It would take more than a few therapy sessions to break this particular young man.
I gave him a sympathetic smile instead, a look I’d practiced extensively all through college to convince my peers I cared about their pathetic problems. Then I went to the coffee maker and made my own cup of coffee for the first time since Gabe had been hired. “Would you like some?”
He shook his head. “No. I’m not feeling too well.”
I nodded, eyeing him as I took a sip. “You look exhausted. Maybe you should go home. How is the schedule looking?”
He drew in a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. “There were only two appointments today, so I moved them to Monday. I wanted to talk to you before I cancel Thursday and Friday.”
“Gabe, is everything okay?”
“Joshua Gibson committed suicide not long after his last session.”
My throat clenched and my heart rate sped up. That was quick.
I hid my smile behind a sip of coffee, holding the cup up until I could force a frown into place. “Are you sure it was him? He was making such progress.” I brought the cup to my lips again.
“That’s what I told the detectives.”
I froze mid-sip, the impulse to grin fading on its own. “What detectives?”
“You were on that call when they came yesterday. Then you got bogged down with appointments, and I didn’t want to upset you while you were trying to work.” His chest rose and fell as he sighed. “I know how much you care about your patients.”
“I appreciate you taking the extra care, but you should’ve told me yesterday.” I held out my hand for the card he was nervously fidgeting with. He handed it over, and to my dismay, Ellie Kline’s name was not embossed on the front. “Detectives Shaw and Decker? Were they here long?”
“No. I told them you were on an important call, and I’d give you their card at a later time.”
“Were they expecting me to call yesterday? Gabe, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that many times, the police require a prompt response. Anything else looks bad.”
He shook his head. “They said there was no hurry. They had a few standard questions they needed to ask, but Joshua committed suicide in front of his officemates, so there really wasn’t much investigating to be done. I asked that they give you a reasonable time to respond, and they were fine with it.” His head lowered slightly, eyes going to the floor in shame. “I should’ve told you sooner. I’m sorry. By the time I was ready to talk about it, you were already halfway out the door, and you looked so happy. I didn’t want to ruin it.”
I set my briefcase and laptop down on the table beside one of the lobby chairs and moved closer, placing a hand on his shoulder. When he gazed up at me with those soulful brown eyes, I pulled him close and held him against my chest.
He went stiff for an instant before melting against me. His trembling body and a soft sniff were the only hints that he was overwhelmed with emotion.
My own eyes were dry, but having Gabe so close, the urge to hold him closer had me reeling so that my smile was replaced with a deep frown. Which was far more appropriate for the moment, considering what he’d just told me. But it wasn’t the loss of a patient that had me feeling suddenly grim, it was anticipation of the pain I knew I would feel when I finally had to let Gabe go.
“Thank you for being so considerate of my feelings and my time. But you could’ve told me and shared your grief. Gabe, this is what I do. You don’t have to carry your burdens alone.”
“They were rude and pushy, even though they said their visit was routine. I wanted to make sure you had some time to prepare before you have to talk to them. They were so callous, and I knew you’d be hurt by the loss of a patient. You deserve that much respect.”
His words caught me off guard. My hand went to his back,
