She’d never had the courage to fight back when she and Gabe were dating and then when they were newlyweds. That had come later. Funny…Agnes’s grudging acceptance had come shortly after Viv started giving as good as she got.
Before she could think of a suitable response, a bee landed on her arm. She smacked it into her wrist, feeling the sting, but not caring. Damn, she hated the things.
Agnes pushed back in her chair. “Careful, dear. Bee stings can be deadly.” Her voice droned on but Viv didn’t listen.
Her stomach dropped. A sharp pain pierced her heart. She was thrown back to the last hike she’d taken with Connor.
They’d loved walking along the nature trails near their home and went out practically every day. Connor picked up every rock, inspected every leaf. He was fascinated by bugs and nature.
They’d never had a problem on their walks. He’d never been stung before. She’d had no way of knowing…
“…runs in the family.”
Wait. What?
“My poor brother died from a bee sting.”
No. Not possible. She must be hearing things. A knot twisted tight in her stomach.
“No.” Gabe sounded as horrified as she felt. “My grand—uh, uncle died of a heart attack.”
Agnes shook her head. “No, dear. It was the bee sting that killed him. Someone should have told you.” She made a tsk, tsk noise. “I’m so glad you’ve come this weekend. You should have yourself tested. And your kids when you have them. There’s things can be done for allergies nowadays that weren’t available back then. If you’re prepared.”
Viv’s heart raced. She choked back the scream rising in her throat.
Why? Why didn’t anyone tell her?
Her whole body shook.
She should have been told. Someone should have told her.
Air. She needed air.
She could have stopped it. If she’d known, she could have saved him.
“Oh my God.” Gabe dropped his head into his hands. “I didn’t know. Why the hell didn’t anyone ever tell me? Mom said he had a heart attack. No one ever mentioned allergies. Shit.”
He continued to curse as Agnes stared at him. Her eyes were wide, her mouth hanging open.
His agony pierced the chaos in Viv’s head. She sent her chair crashing to the ground. “Why didn’t you ever tell anyone? Why didn’t someone tell us?”
Gabe reached for her, but she’d already backed out of range.
The pain in her chest overwhelmed her. She turned away. “I can’t—I have to—I need to go.”
She took off running. Gabe called after her, but she didn’t respond. People were everywhere. Panic fueled her flight. She ignored the stitch in her side as long as she could.
She finally came to a panting standstill near the gazebo. Her mind refused to work properly.
She kept reliving that horrible day in her mind.
And picturing what could have been if she’d been prepared.
She should have been. Why the hell hadn’t anyone ever told her? Connor could have gone through allergy testing. If she’d known, she would have kept an EpiPen on her. Given him one and taught him how to use it. She was a teacher so she knew how to use the damn things. Had, in fact, used it in one of her classes once when a student went into anaphylactic shock.
But when her six-year-old son was stung by a bee, she’d been completely ill-equipped. Nine-one-one hadn’t been able to reach them in time. They’d hiked too far along the path away from the road.
She’d carried him. Raced to the parking lot, trying to meet them halfway. Felt him slip away from her while they waited for the ambulance.
She’d held her baby while he died. He’d been so scared. She’d told him he’d be okay.
And she’d failed him.
* * *
Viv must have laid still on the gazebo bench for an hour before Gabe came to her. He didn’t call her name, stomp his way, or make his presence known in any way. She felt his approach in the tight knot of her stomach, the stiffening of her spine at his scent on the soft June breeze.
He picked up her legs so he could sit with them in his lap. After flicking her shoes off one by one, he massaged her feet in a gentle rhythm. Any other time, she might have enjoyed it.
Instead, she swung to a sitting position, drawing her knees under her chin and wrapping her arms around herself.
“This doesn’t change anything,” he said. “If we’d known, what would we have done different?”
Her spine hit the gazebo wall as she rocked back and forth. “I might have worried. Had him checked. Carried an EpiPen.”
“Doubtful. We’d have mentioned it to his doctor and she’d have told us allergies aren’t hereditary.”
“How do you do that? Why aren’t you freaking out? For the past two years, I’ve been waiting. Waiting for you to show some goddamn loss of control. Anything. But you’ve been fine.”
“I’ve been fine?” His voice was colder than she’d ever heard.
She cringed. Why had she opened her stupid mouth?
“Fine?” He jumped out of his seat. Spit out his gum. “What the fuck, Viv? You think I’ve been fine? I’m so far from fine, it’s…” He stomped to a halt and turned to face her.
She shrank away from him. Wished she could pull her words out of the air as if she’d never said a thing. She’d been thinking it for some time, but the anguish in his eyes proved she’d been beyond wrong. He tore at his hair like he would pull it out at the roots.
She reached a hand out to him, but pulled it back and tucked both hands under her arms. “I didn’t mean to imply you don’t care. He was the world to both of us. I know that.”
“That’s good, because I’d leave right now if I thought you believed…” Tears leaked down his cheeks, caught in the rough five o’clock shadow along his jaw. “How can you think I’m fine? How? I wake up in the morning and for a split second I can’t remember why my chest feels all tight and I can’t breathe. I wait for him to charge into the room and jump on me. And I feel like I’m dying when I realize what’s wrong.” He clutched at his chest.
“I drive five miles out of my way every day so I don’t have to go by the playground and see all those healthy kids running around, playing as if the world has moved on. And it has, but we haven’t.” He cleared his throat, ran a hand over his bloodshot eyes. “I’m not fine. I’m falling apart. The only thing keeping me going is taking care of you, and I’m doing a piss-poor job of that.”
“No.” She shook her head. What was he thinking? “You always take such good care of me. And I don’t deserve it.” She buried her face in her hands, her tears warm against her palms, salty against her lips. “I should have been able to save him,” she whispered, half hoping he wouldn’t hear. She’d never been able to admit it out loud.
He sighed. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“You weren’t there. You don’t know. I promised him everything would be okay.” Her voice broke on okay.
“Shit. You think I don’t regret that every day? I wasn’t there. My son died, and I wasn’t there. It was my job to take care of you both. And I failed.”
Thump.
She took her hands away from her face. Gabe sat in a heap on the floor, his shoulders shaking with his sobs.
She knelt at his side. Wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “Oh, God no, Gabe. It wasn’t your fault.”
She recognized the words as the truth. And if they were true for him, were they true for her?
He turned to her and wrapped his arms around her. Buried his head against her chest and sobbed like a child. Tears soaked through her blouse, hot and wet against her skin. He’d been so strong. For her. And she’d been so wrapped up in her own grief, she hadn’t realized how much his strength had cost him.
She held him close. It was all she could do as he wore himself out. His shoulders gradually stopped shaking and she noticed the pleasant smell of his aftershave, the warmth of his arms around her. The night breeze was just
a little cool against her cheeks. Enough to dry her tears.
His hair tickled her lips as she kissed him on the top of his head. Her frozen heart warmed and the piece of her that belonged to Gabe swelled with love and grief that she hadn’t been there for him when he needed her most.
“Oh, Gabe.” Tears clogged her voice. She had to clear her throat to get the words out. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been there for you.”
He raised his head and they came face-to-face, the tips of their noses brushing, almost too close for her eyes to focus properly. But she could see love in his gaze. A love she returned wholeheartedly. They’d lost so much already and come so close to losing each other. She couldn’t let that happen.
“I love you,” she whispered.
His hand cradled the back of her neck. He placed a ghost of a kiss against her lips. “I love you, too.”
* * *
Viv and Gabe sat in the corner of the last row of the large grouping of chairs before the gazebo. All the guests had been ushered to their seats. The groom stood proudly to one side of the minister, waiting for the processional to start.
Up at the front, someone finally hushed Aunt Agnes and Uncle Albert. Viv couldn’t hear what they’d been going on about, but they’d certainly involved a number of people, the groom included. He shot them one last venomous glare before shifting his focus toward the inn, where the bridesmaids could be seen coming down the path.
“This is surreal,” she whispered.
Gabe had been watching the argument with a confused frown on his face, but now he returned his attention to her.
She nodded toward the approaching processional. “We’re about to watch our own wedding from the cheap seats.”
He laughed. “Wouldn’t want to freak out our younger selves by sitting in the front row.” He grabbed her hand and leaned close so their shoulders touched, their hands intertwined in their laps.
“Good point.” She watched the bridesmaids in their floor-length purple-and-dove-gray gowns walk down the aisle while Tara played a slow song on the small piano the inn had rented for their wedding. The song ended after Viv’s maid of honor reached the foot of the gazebo.
Tara started to sing “It Was You,” the song Nikki had written that weekend. A hush fell over the guests. Everyone stared—not at the bride, but at Tara tucked away in the shadows of the gazebo behind the wedding party.
No one knew the significance of that song until much later. It would become a huge hit.
“It was you who made me see,
“The beginning of a new me.”
“I’d forgotten how beautiful her voice is. It’s been so long since I listened to one of her albums.” Viv turned her attention to her younger self standing at the edge of the white silk runner. The bouquet trembled with the shake of her hands. The bride scanned the backs of all those heads, then focused on the groom, seeking reassurance she’d chosen the right dress. No one noticed. They were all transfixed by Tara’s singing.
“I didn’t know back then that it would never end.
“I only wanted to love you and have you next to me.”
Well, not everyone. Young Gabe had eyes only for young Viv. God, she hoped he’d get that look back in his eyes someday. That she hadn’t screwed things up too badly and there was still time to save them.
“You showed me what I never knew.
“And that was to spend my life with you.”
She turned to her husband. Her breath released in a gasp.
There was that look. His entire body seemed tuned in to her and her alone. He drank her in with his gaze, like he couldn’t get enough of her. She felt beautiful. Wanted. The only woman in the world.
She couldn’t take her gaze off him as Zack began the ceremony.
“Genevieve Allison Bowen, do you take this man, Gabriel Martin Ganivet, as your lawful wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and honor, forsaking all others, till death do you part?”
She stared deep into Gabe’s eyes and answered, “I do.”
Soft laughter floated on the breeze. She felt it in her bones more than heard it with her ears. As their younger selves exchanged rings, she searched the area for the source.
A ghostly figure stood off in the distance, her face alight with merriment.
Agnes’s ghost lifted her hand.
And waved good-bye.
Gabe’s hand spasmed around Viv’s. She tried to return the pressure, but her strength failed her. The beautiful June sunlight dimmed as if a massive cloud had passed overhead.
She glanced up—not a cloud to be seen.
Sounds receded. The perfume of the roses faded.
Everything went black.
* * *
Viv held a hand to her head, trying to quell the dizziness that made her want to vomit. Her body slowly righted itself and she forced her eyes open.
The soft folds of a dusky rose comforter cushioned her cheek. Something black lay an inch in front of her nose.
She pushed herself off the bed. They were back in their room. Just not the same room she’d been in right before the wedding. The old room’s blanket had been a pale blue; this was pink. The black thing that had blocked her vision was her open suitcase.
But she hadn’t had a suitcase.
“We’re back,” Gabe said behind her, a moment before his arm wrapped around her midsection. He pulled her close, burying his face in the crook of her neck.
She settled into his arms. God, that feels good. Sadness weighed heavily upon her heart, but there was a light spot where Gabe lived.
“Mom? I’m hungry. Can I order chocolate chip pancakes?”
She must be hearing things. Her heartbeat tripled its pace. The soft chimes of a video game played repeatedly in the background.
Please. Please let it be him.
“Connor?” Gabe’s voice broke midway through their son’s name.
Their heads swiveled as one to stare at the eight-year-old boy curled up in an armchair in the corner of the room, a game system dangling from his hand.
Memories flooded through her.
Side by side with memories of the past two years after her son’s death, were memories of his life.
The first new memory was of Gabe describing Great-Aunt Agnes’s scene at the wedding. She’d been talking crazy about time travel and bee stings. He hadn’t understood half of what she said, but in the midst of her ranting, he’d learned that his grandfather had died of an allergy, not a heart attack.
The story stuck with Viv, who’d decided to have their baby tested. The bee allergy had been revealed safely in the doctor’s office.
In her new memories, she’d had an EpiPen in her backpack when their son was stung while out on a hike. They called it their near miss and while the thought of what could have been scared Viv half to death, Connor had come out of it just fine.
Her limbs refused to move as she absorbed all the new information. Gabe ran to Connor and lifted him in his arms for a bear hug. Connor laughed in delight as his father swung him in a circle, legs swinging wide, head thrown back, his laughter swelling her heart with joy.
Tears streamed down her cheeks. She covered her mouth to stifle her cries. How could she explain to Connor that her tears were of joy at seeing him? He had no idea what they’d gone through.
Thank God.
Gabe stopped swinging and cradled Connor against his chest. He brought his tear-filled gaze up and their eyes locked. He looked as shocked and joyful as she felt.
She rushed into his embrace, their son cuddled between them.
They came together for a kiss over Connor’s head.
“Eww!” Connor exclaimed and wiggled until they had to put him down or risk dropping him.
Gabe pulled her closer and they watched their son jump back into the chair with his game. She rested her head on Gabe’s chest and sighed in contentment.
Agnes’s laughter echoed i
n her ears. Out of the corners of her eyes, Viv caught sight of the old woman’s ghost—a beaming smile lit her face as she nodded to Viv.
Viv whispered, “Thank you.”
“Time to go, you nosy old witch,” Albert said, appearing beside his wife and slinging an arm around her waist. Viv’s eyes widened as the two grew younger. Their spines straightened, gray hair gave way to glossy brown, and wrinkles disappeared. Their love for each other was clear as they looked into each other’s eyes. In the midst of a passionate kiss, they faded from sight.
About Emma Kaye
Emma Kaye is married to her high school sweetheart and has two beautiful kids that she spends an insane amount of time driving around central New Jersey. Before ballet classes and tennis entered her life, she decided to try writing one of those romances she loved to read and discovered a new passion. She has been writing ever since. Add in a hyper dog and an extremely patient cat and she’s living her own happily ever after while making her characters work hard to reach theirs.
* * *
For more information about Emma, please visit her online at:
@EmmaKayeWrites
EmmaKayeWrites
www.emma-kaye.com
Also by Emma
Love time travel? Try another Emma Kaye time travel story.
Time for Love
(Finalist in the 2014 Golden Leaf contest.)
Alexandra Turner will do anything to save her twin sister. Even when she’s transported back in time to Regency England. Rescuing her sister and finding her way back to her own time will take all her concentration. Falling in love is not an option.
With the death of his brother, Nicholas Somerville became the ninth Marquess of Oakleigh and must return to England to take his place in society. Part of his responsibility will be to find a wife. It never occurs to him he might actually discover a woman he could love—until he meets Alex on his voyage home.
Timeless Vows: Five Tales of Love (Timeless Tales Book 4) Page 12
