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“I’m not sure that his love is enough to save our marriage, Mum,” Libby confessed in a hushed voice. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. He hurt me terribly, and I suppose I don’t know if I trust him not to do it again. He broke that trust once, and he’s been trying so hard to make up for it. But I feel like it will always be there, looming between us. And I have to decide if I’m able—willing—to set it aside and allow myself to be vulnerable with him again.”
Her mother placed her hand palm up on the table, and Libby took it, appreciating the older woman’s love and support.
“Did he cheat on you?” her mother asked, and Libby’s eyes widened in horror at the question.
“No.” The word came out more forcefully than she had intended, but the thought of Greyson cheating was almost ridiculous, and she leaped to his defense without thinking. Once she realized what she had done, she felt an immediate surge of resentment that he hadn’t done the same for her.
Why couldn’t he have had the same faith in her? That felt like the worst betrayal, and that was the demon she found herself battling with.
“He didn’t cheat, but he accused me of cheating. He thought Clara was someone else’s. He thought Harris and I . . .” She shook her head. Still mortified at the thought.
“You and Harris have always been close,” her mother said thoughtfully, and Libby was a little outraged that the woman hadn’t immediately jumped to her defense. “Sometimes to the exclusion of everyone else. Even Tina.”
“That’s no excuse,” Libby said, the outrage dissolving. It always came back to this.
“Greyson should have trusted you; he should have trusted his brother. You were always so warm and approachable and loving. It was hard for me to imagine you with someone like Greyson. Hard for all of us, I think. Even for Greyson. You seemed so much more compatible with Harris, while Greyson was always such a closed-off, distant boy. I remember when you were children, you and Harris would come tumbling into the kitchen and try to charm me out of biscuits or treats. Harris would say ridiculously flattering things; you would smile and plead and flutter those eyelashes at me. While Greyson would stand in the doorway and watch. He never begged or charmed. But he wanted to. I could tell it in the way he would lean in through that door, the way his eyes would follow my hands as I gave you the treats.
“He wasn’t cold; he was . . . I don’t know . . . the only word I can think of is distant. Or reserved. Always was and probably always will be. When he wanted something, he asked for it, no frills, no fuss, and sometimes it would sound like a demand. It can be off putting, but it’s the only way he knows how to be. What Greyson did was awful, and I’m very angry with him for hurting you and not taking care of you the way he should have. And I can’t tell you what to do or how to feel. I just know that I never thought I’d see the day that our cold and controlled Greyson Chapman would spend time making funny animal noises to a baby and telling a woman he loves her.”
Libby groaned and buried her face in her arms on the table. What was she doing here? She wasn’t sure she was achieving anything except confusing herself even further.
The aquarium was a complete nightmare. So many people jostling to see the exhibits, crying babies, squealing toddlers, stampeding children. The Chapmans spent the morning looking both horrified and terrified, and it would have been comical if Libby hadn’t felt the same way.
Clara seemed to love it, though. The noise fascinated her, the gorgeous exhibits held her attention for long moments . . . but thankfully she started to flag after just an hour, and Libby eagerly suggested they leave when Clara started fussing.
Her in-laws jumped at the opportunity to escape, and they were on their way to a restaurant when Libby’s phone rang. It was Tina.
“Hey, Tina, how’re you doing?” she greeted her friend warmly. Tina had been on cloud nine since announcing her engagement to Harris on Tuesday. And every time they spoke, Libby could hear the lightness in the woman’s voice. Harris was the same, and Libby was extremely happy for them.
“Libby.” There was no lightness in Tina’s voice this time, and Libby sat upright, alarmed by the urgency in her friend’s voice.
“What’s wrong?”
“The guys were fixing the roof, and . . . I don’t know what happened, but Greyson fell. They rushed him to the hospital. I’m on my way there now. Harris called me; he said he’s been trying to reach you.”
