Page 92 of Shy Girls Can't Date Celebrities
He sits taller, willing me toward him. As I move closer to the table, his mother whips around and steam sizzles out of her ears.
“Josie, darling,” Mrs. Hayes says, swallowing her simmering rage. “We are so very grateful you’ve helped Wyatt get released from the Clearview Clinic. But we have a life to get back to, and so do you.”
“Mom, she’s not going anywhere,” Wyatt says firmly.
“You can’t live in the past,” his mother replies. “The longer she stays, the longer she holds you back.”
“Sh-she’s th-th-the only one who...” He sighs out, pressing on hischest in frustration. “Jo-Josie mm-makes me better.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Hayes,” Erika says, stepping in. “Josie is here on Wyatt’s request.”
“Wyatt’s had a brain injury,” Mr. Hayes says. “He doesn't know what’s best for him.”
At that, Wyatt pales and shrinks in his seat. How could his dad cut him down like that? Wyatt has a functioning brain. He knows what he wants.
“We are stepping in,” Mrs. Hayes says, raising her volume. “There's been too much decision-making by the Circle 8 team. It’s time for his father and I to take care of him.”
Wyatt winces, pressing his fingers against the side of his head.
Mrs. Hayes combs her fingers through Wyatt’s hair. It makes him flinch, which only increases his pain-ridden wince.
“Wyatt, sweetie, tell them to leave. You’re the only one who can end this now.”
Wyatt lowers his head, cowering from his crowding parents.
“Wyatt?” his father presses. “Come on, son. We’re just helping you get back to form.”
“St-st-top,” Wyatt stammers. “I-I-I can’t t-t-take this.”
“See,” Mrs. Hayes yelps. “We need him moving forward, so he’s not stuck in this horrible mess.”
“Mrs. Hayes,” Randall cuts in. “With all due respect...”
“Don’t even think about telling me how to deal with my son,” she spits. “You people all forget that he’s mine.”
Wyatt hunches further, hanging his head in his hands, despite the pain it causes to his back.
“You need to stop!” Fire burns in my gaze as I stare down Mrs. Hayes. “Can’t you see what you’re doing to him? He can barely talk. Haven’t you worked out that his stutter gets worse under stress? My God, you need to back off!”
Mrs. Hayes sucks in a ragged breath. “How dare you...”
“Josie, this is a family matter,” Mr. Hayes cuts in.
Wyatt’s hands tremor as they cover his face. “What f-f-family?”
His dad leans closer to him. “What was that, son?”
“Wyatt, sweetheart, we love you and just want to take care of you.”
A shattered sigh—littered with the effort to keep back tears—pours out of Wyatt.
“Don’t let Josie hold you back,” his mother whispers harshly. “You need better than this. That’s why we encouraged you to stop contact with her.”
Wyatt’s brow furrows. “You did what?”
“You strived when you didn’t have your old life weighing you down,” Mr. Hayes adds on. “Without Josie’s calls and texts distracting you, you were able to work harder.”
“You had years of success, thanks to us.” Mrs. Hayes says with wild desperation. “You can have it again.”
