Page 100 of Caught Up In You

Libbytsks. “That boy seems like he’s got his feelings all in a knot. It’s not good, honey bun.”

I clench my teeth so tightly my molars ache. “Would you cut it out with the honey bun shit?”

Libby turns to face me. “Wyatt Jean, what is your problem with me?”

Now my hands unclench from the wheel, flying up and smacking the aging fabric on the ceiling of the car. “Are you kidding me right now?”

“I’m not. You’re treating me like some evil stepmonster, and I don’t like it.” She turns back to stare out the windshield, her arms crossed over her chest. “I know I wasn’t a great mother?—”

I snort. “Understatement.”

“But I’ve always loved you. I took care of you as best I could. I tried to shield you from the worst of things.”

“Did you? Really? Did you shield me from Brandon, who would show up at our apartment drunk and backhand you while wearing his fucking class ring?”

“Yes, Wyatt. He slapped me, and then he left. And the next dayweleft.”

“Why didn’t you call the cops?”

She scoffs. “The cops? Are you kidding? The cops wouldn’t have done shit, and if they’d tried, it just would’ve made thingsworse. I took us out of that situation, which was the best thing I could do.”

“And into what? A string of cheap motels in Alabama? That trailer in Apalachicola that was full of mold?”

“You always had a bed to sleep in and food to eat, and you always had me,” she says.

“Until I didn’t! Until you left with that guy Jayden or Cayden or Braxton or whatever the fuck and decided taking me with you was too inconvenient. Then you told me to hit the bricks.”

“I—” she starts like she’s got an argument, but the word dies in her mouth. She sighs. “I’m sorry. All I can say is that at the time, I thought I was doing the right thing. You were old enough to take care of yourself, and I think part of me knew you could do it better than I could. You said it yourself—I could hardly give you consistency. The sooner you got out on your own, the sooner you could start living a better life. And you were so angry with me by that point, it felt like independence was the best gift I could give you.”

There’s a long stretch of silence between us, the only sound the rush of the warm summer air through the open windows as we drive toward town.

Libby sighs. “I’m sorry, Wyatt. For everything. For not doing better by you, for leaving you behind, for taking Hazel. And then for dumping everything on you when I made yet another stupid decision. You picked up the pieces, and Hazel is who she is because of you. She is smart and brave and strong and an incredible mother to that baby, andnoneof that is because of me. You did that, Wyatt. And you should be proud.”

It’s not until I pull up to the house and turn off the truck that I realize there are tears pouring down my cheeks. I think about what Carson said about Libby being a victim too. About how I’ve been blaming her for the actions of the men she chose. Could she have done better? Absolutely. But could she have done worse?

Jut the thought makes me shudder.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me. And hell, I definitely don’t deserve another chance. But I want you to know that I’m trying. For Hazel and for Eden, but also for you. You deserve that, Wyatt,” Libby says. “You’ve worked so hard, and you deserve at least that.”

She gives me a long, sad look, then gathers her purse into her lap.

“Now, you go on after your doctor,” Libby says, reaching up and tucking a curl behind my ear. “But please remember that even though you are the strongest woman I know, that doesn’t mean you need to hold up a man, okay? If I’ve learned anything in this life, it’s that a man’s gotta hold himself up first.”

CHAPTER 40

OWEN

I should be in bed, but I can’t sleep. The house is too quiet, and the pounding of my heart is too loud.

Felix is on a fishing trip with some guys from college. I try to call Francie again, but it goes to voicemail. She’s probably working at the hospital.

And I can’t call Wyatt. Not yet.

It’s in moments like these that I realize how small my circle is. Maybe it was growing up in a big family in a small town, but it always felt important to keep things to myself. Our little house was always so busy, and with that came stress. Plus there was the stress of losing Mom. The stress of Dad trying to be a single father to five kids under nine. The stress of trying to minimize everyone else’s stress.

I was just a little boy when my mother died. I barely remember her. There wasn’t much I could do to ease the burden in my house, but I felt it deeply even in first grade. I watched my dad try to hide his tears. I watched Archer try to step up and help out. I watched Dan withdraw into himself. Felix, my twin, was already showing signs of being an easily distractible, happy-go-lucky wild rumpus, creating messes and making everyone laugh.

I figured out pretty quickly that the best way I could help my family was by following the rules and working hard at everything I tried. It made everyone happy. It made life easier.

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