Caught in Us (Caught Series Book 4) by Kacey Shea (free e books to read TXT) 📕

hand and rest it on Matthew’s back. We’re connected by touch, the three living generations of Martins. I bet my father never imagined it’d be his daughter passing on the family name. The thought brings a somber smile to my lips. I’m incredibly thankful for this moment, but it’s tainted by sorrow too.

“This is your grandson.” I inhale a shaky breath in a vain attempt to calm the storm of emotion inside my chest. “I hope he gets all the good pieces of me, and you, too. I hope I can raise him to be a good man. But I wish I had your help.” My eyes sting and tears threaten to fall. “I’m sorry I didn’t come home sooner. I’m sorry for so many things. For not spending more time with you. For all the things I’ve done wrong.” Tears leak from the corners of my eyes and stream down my cheek. “I hope you know how much I love you. How much I miss you.” My voice cracks, a sob breaking free.

My father coughs, the throaty rough sound startling. His eyelids fly open but he doesn’t look around or make eye contact. Instead, he stares at the wall, coughing again, this time harder.

Matthew stirs, his body warm against my chest. His eyes blink open, disoriented as he pulls himself upright on my lap. He rubs the sleep from his face, smiling when our eyes meet. “Mama.”

“Yeah.” I smile through my tears and the lump in my throat. “I’m here.” I move my father’s hand back onto the bed.

Matthew’s gaze follows my movement. “Papa.” His eyes widen with recognition. “Papa!”

“Yes.” More tears fall, but they’re happy ones. Because my son recognizes his grandpa. We video chat with Dad’s nurses, but it’s so one-sided and I never imagined he’d be so happy.

“Papa! Papa, hi!” Matthew leans off of my lap, trying to catch his grandpa’s attention. “Papa. Hi, Papa.” Each time he repeats the words it opens up a fresh wave of sadness inside me. Because my dad can’t acknowledge or greet his own grandson.

This isn’t the meeting I ever imagined for them.

“It’s Grandpa.” I smile through the ache in my heart. “Can you give him a hug and a kiss? Be gentle.”

Matthew leans forward, giving his grandfather a kiss on the arm. “Hug. Papa.” He glances at me before resting his head on my dad’s chest.

Emotion constricts my throat. Fullness expands in my heart. It’s bittersweet, but it’s real. “You’re such a good boy.” I smooth the hair back from my son’s face and memorize everything about this moment. His innocence. This simple perfect moment.

The door creaks open and I lift my gaze to find Simon enter.

“I thought I heard you get back.”

“Si-mon!” Matty scrambles off my lap and races across the room.

“Hey, mate!” Simon scoops him up. “Did you have fun today?”

“Mama! Truck!” Matthew’s eyes widen with alarm as he remembers the toy truck Chase gave him.

“Let’s go find it.” I stand from the chair, lean over and give my father a hug. “Love you, Daddy.” I swear he meets my gaze. That he knows me and how much I love him. Hope steals my breath, but it’s over too soon. His unfocused stare, the slack in his jaw are back in place.

Theresa comes back into the room before we all leave. “Did you have a nice visit?”

“It was perfect.” I nod, wiping away the evidence of my tears. I’m not embarrassed by them, or to cry in front of her. She’s witnessed all my emotions over the phone. “Thank you. For always taking such good care of my dad.”

“Of course.” She nods, her smile tender.

I move into the hallway where Matty grows impatient, squirming and kicking to get down from Simon’s embrace. “Mama! Truck!”

“Yes. We’ll get it,” I reassure him, then look at Simon. “Chase bought him a toy from the museum gift shop.”

“I take it, it’s a truck,” Simon deadpans, setting Matty down and holding his hand as we walk down the hall.

“Now, where did you get that idea?” I snicker and roll my eyes.

“But it went well?” Simon touches my arm, his gaze full of worry.

“Yeah.” I nod. “Better than I thought.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.” But somehow it doesn’t quite feel that way. In the entry, my purse sits next to the car seat. I open it and retrieve the toy.

“Truck!” Matthew swipes it from my hands, drops to the ground, and starts driving it across my mother’s pristine hardwood floors. I cringe, hoping she doesn’t come out and find us. Yes, I’m a grown woman who’s still scared of her mother’s wrath.

“Mama!” He stops and looks up at me with his big brown eyes. “Dig?”

Good call. “Yes. That would be a good outside toy.”

Matty takes off for the back door at my suggestion.

I take a step to follow when my purse dings with the alert of a text notification, my cell lost somewhere in its depths.

“I’ve got him.” Simon laughs. “Join us when you’re ready.”

“Thanks.” I nod, my shoulders still tight with tension from the stress of today. Picking up my bag, I scrounge around until my fingers wrap around my phone. My breath catches when I read the message.

Chase: Thank you again for today.

I swallow hard, taking a moment before I respond. There’s something painful about him thanking me. It feels backward somehow.

Me: You’re really good with him.

It takes a few minutes for his next text to come, the bubbles disappearing and reappearing while I wait anxiously for his response.

Chase: I wish I could have been there for him. For you both.

All these years I’ve stayed away. I’d been holding on to the hope that I was doing the right thing for my son. I kept him away from Chase—for both of us. Because Matthew deserved a life without an alcoholic father. He deserved to have a sober mother. I cut off relationships for my son’s safety. It wasn’t only Chase I stayed away from. It was Callie and Jill too. I knew my distance