I stare down at her, trying not to be wounded by what she’s implied. Because if Juliet had never met Jean-Claude, how would we have met? How would we have ever found each other?

“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “For all of this. I hate how much pain he’s caused. I regret that he hurt Juliet and Christopher, and that he’ll probably go on to hurt others. But I won’t regret that they met, not when it gave me you.”

Blinking away tears, Bea wraps her arms around my waist, then sets her head over my heart. “Jamie.”

“Yes?” I hold her tight, swaying her how she likes.

“I—” Her voice breaks as she buries her face in my chest. “He hurt my sister, Jamie. And I can’t let her hurt anymore.”

Rubbing her back in gentle circles, I kiss her temple. “I know you can’t stand for the people you care about to hurt, Bea, but you can’t take away Juliet’s pain. You can only be there while she weathers it.”

“I can lessen it.” Bea swallows thickly, clutching me tighter.

I frown, pulling back enough that I can search her eyes. “How? What are you talking about?”

Tears spill down her cheeks. “Jamie, we can’t see each other anymore, not right now. Not when everything that happened with Jules and Jean-Claude is tangled up in our relationship. Every time she sees us—sees you—she’ll be reminded of him. Even if I try to slip away to see you privately, she’ll know where I’m going, who I’m seeing, and it’ll dredge up painful memories and grief, everything she needs to forget so she can truly move on. I can’t do that to her.”

I stare at her in shock. “You’re not serious.”

“I’ve been in her shoes, and I know what she needs—comfort and safety, not constant reminders of the person who hurt her. I have to protect my sister, give her time to heal from Jean-Claude.”

“I’m not Jean-Claude.”

“I know you’re not, Jamie.” Bea wipes away her tears. “Dammit. I know you’re not. Stop twisting my words.”

“I’m not twisting them, I’m making a point. You’re saying you can’t be with me because of something someone else did?”

Her expression crumples with new tears. “I’m just trying to . . .” She groans and hides her face in her hands. “Please, I can’t choose you over Jules.”

“I’m not asking you to choose me over her. I’m asking you not to set me aside like a pawn that no longer serves your purposes.”

“It’s not like that!” Bea says defensively, dropping her hands. “This isn’t a fucking chess game. It’s people’s hearts and feelings—”

“I’m aware! Mine happen to be involved.”