Young Revelations (Young Series)

by Kimble, W. R.

  I sigh, reaching down for my shirt and changing from my t-shirt. As much as I want t believe this is real, that he’s truly repentant for his treatment of Samantha, the cynical part of me that’s built up over the years thinks he might be doing this to get in my good graces so he can ask for some favor or another. My eyes catch my reflection in the mirror as I begin buttoning my shirt and I remember when I began turning cynical. It was right around the time I was in the hospital after the bombing and a team of doctors was bragging that they’d managed to save my arm and with months of painful physical therapy, I might have partial use of it again. Every time I changed my shirt or took a shower I had to avert my gaze from my mutilated shoulder, because it disgusted me. It was a symbol of my weakness—I should have been able to protect myself and my company against that attack. Instead I nearly got myself killed, which would have left my wife and son without a protector. I failed them and I failed myself. After that, the cynicism set in. I started looking at the people around me, wondering which of them was only there because they wanted something from me. Clearly, I was looking at the wrong people, but the feeling is still there.

  “If that’s what you want,” I say quietly, turning away from the mirror and my father to put on the damn bowtie, “what you really want, I’m not the one who needs your apologies. I will say this, though: if you ever treat her even a tenth of the way you’ve treated her in the past, I’m done with you. You’re out of my life, out of my children’s lives, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Claire follows suit. She’s not too pleased with you either. Just keep in mind that you would never in a million years allow anybody talk to your wife the way you’ve talked to mine. Never again.”

  He nods and stands from the arm of the couch, crossing the room and batting my hands away from the tie to do it for me. “You’re right,” he says simply. “And I will talk to Samantha. Today if she wants. It’s her call.”

  I don’t respond and neither of us speaks again until my bowtie is perfectly done, and my dad scolds me when I can’t resist tugging the damn thing. We then head upstairs where the other men are waiting, probably to see if we’ve killed one another, and I spend time mingling with the guests that have arrived until it’s time for us to head outside.

  ––––-o––––-

  Long before I’m ready, Claire announces that everybody is outside—and freezing their asses off apparently—so it’s time for us to do the same. Traditionally the wedding ceremony would last close to a half an hour when it’s all been said and done, but since it is so cold outside, we’re doing things at a slightly more rapid pace so we can all get back inside where it’s nice and warm as quickly as possible. Everybody in the wedding party has heat packs in their pockets to avoid frostbite, as do the guests. I suppose this is the downside of a Christmas wedding. So far no one is complaining, at least not to me.

  “Okay, Sam, let’s get your mane on,” Claire announces happily. Rolling my eyes, I turn towards her, tearing my gaze from the backyard. I can’t see much right now anyway; the dock is far enough from the house that I can only vaguely make out dots that I assume to be people sitting down. There’s also a blue carpet leading the way from the back row of the seats, where a small tent has been set up for last minute preparations and to hide me from Matthew until I start walking down the aisle, to a white arch that is covered with white flowers, all of which seem to match the ice and snow of the lake perfectly. And it’s beautiful.

  Claire is holding out the fluffy faux-fur hooded coat that goes with my dress and is designed to keep me as warm as possible, even through a blizzard. I slide my arms into the sleeves and she tucks it around me, moving around to the front to pull up and adjust the hood. “Perfect,” she says with a grin. “Matt’s going to collapse when he sees you.”

  “How about we hold off on that until the wedding is over?” I suggest, turning around as I hear the familiar running footsteps of my son. He’s dressed in his little black tuxedo with a blue vest and bowtie. Someone tried to style his hair, though they clearly gave up when they realized there is no taming it. “Well, look at you, Ty! You look so handsome!’

  My son grins toothily at me. “Thanks. You look handsome too, Mom,” he responds. Claire, Lily, and Bonnie manage to smother their laughs.

  “Thank you,” I tell him, my voice uneven with laughter. “Do you remember what you have to do today?”

  He nods eagerly, his smile huge. “Yeah. I walk with Abby and carry a ring and give the ring to Daddy when I get to him. Then I go sit with Miss Bonnie.”

  “Very good,” I praise, then my brow furrows. “Who’s got the rings, anyway?”

  “That’d be me,” Danny announces, entering in through the backdoor looking breathless. “Sorry, we got a bit distracted earlier.” He hands the rings to Claire, though I can’t see them as she closes her fist around them. “Also, Sam…” His volume drops significantly as he moves closer to me. “Matt wanted me to warn you that his dad is here. We don’t think he’s going to start any trouble, but he wanted you to be aware before you got outside.”

  “You’re joking,” Claire says dully. “He’s actually here?”

  Danny nods. “We were surprised too. He and Matt had a long chat about something and they both came up in one piece, so we’re trying not to question it too much.”

  “Probably smart,” I say. As displeased as I am that Paul Young is here after Matthew and I were told he refused to attend the wedding in protest, I’m not letting him ruin this for us. And I’ve got no problem kicking him out if he starts anything—five years ago, I would have balked at the idea of standing up to Paul Young, but now, it’s the least of my concerns. “Thanks, Danny.”

  He winks, looking me up and down. Claire gives him a withering glare and he clears his throat, turning away looking rather red-faced, mutters some form of see you later, and bolts out of the house. “I swear, I’m going to kill him,” Claire tells me under her breath.

  “Can it wait until tomorrow?” I reply.

  She sighs dramatically. “I suppose,” she drawls, rolling her eyes upward before looking at me and grinning again. “Come on, everyone, time to marry Sammy off.” She pauses briefly, her brow furrowing. “Again.”

  Out in the tent, my brother is waiting with Danny and Marcus, and he smiles when he sees me. “You look beautiful,” he says softly, bending to kiss my cheek. “Young is a lucky bastard.”

  “Yeah, about that,” I murmur as everyone takes their places. Somewhere outside, music begins to play. At some point, Abby was handed a little basket with flower pedals and Tyler a little blue pillow with the rings tied to it by white strings. “Did I really see the two of you getting along earlier?”

  “Possibly,” Jimmy replies as Abby and Tyler head out of the tent and down the aisle. “I went over last night and we had a bit of a chat.” Marcus and Lily pair up and follow them. “We reached an understanding.” A few moments later, Danny and Claire head out, leaving me alone with my brother. “And I think I get him a little better now.”

  “So what… You’re BFFs now?” I ask wryly.

  He chuckles, placing my hand in the crook of his elbow. “Hardly,” he says. “But we’re good. And I’m sorry I didn’t do all this sooner. You chose well, Sammy. He’s a good man. Though I did tell him if he hurts you, he’ll answer to me.”

  “Let me guess,” I reply, grinning a little as the music outside changes to the Wedding March, “you threatened to turn him into corn fertilizer.”

  “You know me so well,” he says, his voice shaking in laughter. “Dad did the same, you know. When he first met Young… I figured I’d continue the tradition.” We step out of the tent and my eyes immediately fly towards the archway and my breath is knocked out of me when I get my first glimpse of Matthew since last night. He looks amazing… Black jacket and pants. Blue vest, white shirt, and blue bowtie. Just like Tyler. His hair is up in every possible direction, which he knows I love. He just doesn’t look right with his hair neat and styled. When his eyes find me,
his mouth drops open slightly and I think Marcus actually reaches out for his arm to keep him steady as he seems to be weaving slightly on the spot. Only one thing could possibly tear my gaze from his right now, and my brother is the one to do it. “Mom and Dad would be incredibly proud of you, you know.”

  If he didn’t have hold on my arm, I’d probably stumble over my feet as I look up at him. He’s smiling down at me, fully aware of the affect his words have on me. I already feel the tears filling my eyes, but I nod, returning my gaze to Matthew. “I know,” I whisper to Jimmy. “Thanks.”

  “Anytime, beautiful,” he murmurs back right before we reach my groom. Jimmy takes my right hand and places it in Matthew’s, then reaches over to shake his hand. “Take care of her.”

  Matthew glances away from me for the first time as his fingers close tightly around mine. “I will,” he says quietly, his voice slightly choked up. “You’ve got my word.”

  Jimmy nods once in satisfaction and turns to me, pressing a kiss to my forehead before walking over to sit with Tyler. When my gaze turns back to meet Matthew’s, it doesn’t waver for the rest of the ceremony. Matthew turns us to face the minister and smiles at me. “You are absolutely gorgeous,” he tells me softly.

  I return his smile and feel my face heating up, though I don’t know why; I should be used to his compliments by now. “So do you,” I reply. I reach up with my free hand to smooth his bowtie. “And I love this.”

  “Really?” he asks in surprise.

  I nod. “Very much,” I confirm. “You should wear these more often.”

  Shaking his head in wonder, he presses my knuckles to his lips. He looks away from me then, just briefly to nod at the minister to begin the ceremony. Having been through this once before, with the same man no less, I hardly pay much attention to anything he says until he turns to us and announces to our guests that we’ve chosen to write our own vows. For our first marriage, we went with the traditional ones and decided this time around, we were going to make it count. In all honesty, I’ve been writing mine for five years in my head, though I never really thought I’d have the chance to share them with anybody, least of all Matthew. Normally I’d never be able to speak like this to him with an audience, but the moment our gazes lock when we turn to face one another, it feels as though we’re the only people in the world. Which is always how it feels when I’m with him and he’s looking at me like that…

  I take a deep breath and clasp his hands tightly as is I begin. “Before I met you, I didn’t believe in fate or soul mates or even love. You’ve changed all that for me and while there have been times I think it might have been better to never discover any of those things, particularly in the last five years, my life would be completely empty without them and especially without you. You’ve done more for me than anybody else in my life, good and bad, and there is no way I could ever begin to thank you for that. I always thought fairytale romances could never exist, until I met you. I thought fairytale romances were completely perfect without the slightest blemish of trouble. In the beginning, I thought we had a fairytale romance, and when things went wrong, I started second guessing myself. It’s taken my five years to realize even in fairytales, bad things happen, but what really matters is the happily ever after. And that’s what we’re going to have. I don’t know how long it’ll take or what will happen to get us there, but we will have that. I love you, Matthew, and whatever it takes, we are going to have our happily ever after.”

  If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear my words made his eyes water. I’ve never had that sort of affect on him and it hits me suddenly just how much he’s changed in recent weeks and months—crying isn’t something he does. Ever. Like the typical man he is, he believes crying is a form of weakness and he was always determined to never let me see him weak. He’s letting me in and I think that realization is somehow making me fall even more deeply in love with him.

  Claire steps up to us and hands me the wedding band I chose for Matthew. It’s a simple white gold ring with a hammered, polished finish, and on the inside, I had the words My love forever, Sam engraved. I take his left hand in mine and hold the ring millimeters from his finger. “You’re my world, my best friend, the only person in my life who accepts me for everything I am, and the only person I want to spend my life with.” When I slide the ring onto his finger, he emits the tiniest gasp and I look up to him to find his eyes wide and his breathing uneven. “I love you.”

  His eyes flutter closed as I lift his hand to my mouth, pressing my lips against his left ring finger. When he opens them again, the softness in his expression and his smile nearly starts me crying as well. The minister gestures that it’s Matthew’s turn to speak his vows and he swallows several times and clears his throat before he’s able to begin. “I’ve been sitting around for weeks trying to think of what I should say to you today that hasn’t been said a million and one times. I’m still not sure I’ve got it right even now, but obviously, I’m out of time.” I huff a laugh and he smiles at me. “Samantha, I never could have dreamed that someone like you existed. Every day that I wake up with you, it’s like the very first time. Every day I look at you and talk to you, and I learn something new about you. I always wanted to think you and I knew each other better than we know ourselves, and that’s true, but there’s so much more we haven’t yet learned.” He pauses to get my ring from Marcus and turns back to me, smiling slightly as he reaches up to wipe away a few tears from my cheek.” You make me want to be a better man, a better husband, a better friend, and a better father. I want to be everything you need and want, and I won’t give up until I’ve reached that goal. I love you, Samantha, more than you could ever know and more than I ever thought possible. You’re my heart and soul and everything in between. For as long as you let me, I promise I will keep you from harm and love you and support you in everything you do. I love you.”

  With that, he slips the ring on my finger and before the minister can even give the “you may now kiss the bride” directive, I’m in his arms and he’s kissing me like he’s never done before. Faintly, somewhere in the distance, I can hear people cheering us on and laughing at Matthew’s impatience. I don’t know how long we kiss, but when we pull away, I definitely see tears falling from his eyes through his bright smile.

  “Well, hello there, Mrs. Young,” he says softly, pushing the fur hood off my head and searching my eyes deeply for something. “It’s wonderful to see you again; it’s been far too long.”

  I choke out a laugh through my own tears. “That it has, Mr. Young,” I manage to say.

  His smile widens and he leans in for another kiss, though this one is far shorter and interrupted when I feel cold drops on my face. We pull apart and look up simultaneously to find it’s starting to snow, which is the perfect finale to our wedding. I look back at my husband, grinning. “Did you do that?”

  He raises an amused eyebrow. “What, you think I can control the weather now?” he asks, his voice lilting.

  I grin. “Honestly, Matt, I wouldn’t put anything past you at this point,” I respond.

  Laughing out loud, he sweeps me up in his arms and announces for everyone to follow us to the house, then runs, stumbling towards the stairs. Hardly thinking, I take the bouquet of flowers someone handed me and toss them over Matthew’s shoulder, craning my neck in time to see Bonnie easily snatch the flowers from the air. I’m probably the only one who notices the rather predatory expression she shoots Marcus West.

  By the time we’re inside, we’re both out of breath from laughing, though I think part of his breathlessness might be from the energy it took to carry his six-month pregnant wife across the yard at a run. Claire arrives shortly after us, rolling her eyes when she finds us kissing again, and dispatches us upstairs to give us a few minutes alone as husband and wife. Matthew still hasn’t set me on my feet and with a wicked grin, he rushes us through the house, up the stairs, and to the bedroom. I can barely form even the slightest feigned protest; anytime I look at him he
looks happier than he’s ever been. On my feet again, my arms stay locked around his neck and I kiss him deeply.

  ––––-o––––-

  This day feels like one big dream that I never want to end. From seeing Samantha walking down the aisle in that incredible dress that somehow doesn’t even show the slightest sign that she’s six months pregnant, to the snow falling around us as we kissed, everything has been incredibly perfect. I pull away from her kiss to better take in her appearance. Her dress is made of a thick, white material, probably for warmth and fits her form perfectly. The sleeves are long and lacy, covered by the fur-hooded jacket she wore during the ceremony. I’m amazed to realize she looks more beautiful now than she did at our first wedding and I could stare at her all day, even with her squirming around uncomfortably under my gaze like she’s doing right now.

  “I’m going to change out of this dress now,” she murmurs, her face bright red. “Can you help me with my zipper?”

  “I’d be more than happy to help my wife with her zipper,” I respond, wondering if I’ll ever tire of referring to her like this.

  Her shy smile tells me she’s enjoying it just as much and she turns around, lifting her hair so I can lower the zipper on her dress. Of course I can’t resist placing several kisses on the back of her neck and down her spine, loving how she shivers at my touch. “Would it be rude to kick everyone out of the house right now?” she asks breathily.

  I chuckle. “Probably, and while most days I’d probably be the first one to kick them all out personally, I’m actually looking forward to this party,” I respond, helping her step out of the dress. It takes every ounce of self-restraint to keep from taking her to bed right now, especially now that she’s only wearing a white lacy bra and matching underwear. Instead, I pick up her dress and coat and go about putting them on the hangers on the closet door, intentionally taking my time arranging them until she’s changed into a much simpler, more comfortable dress. She looks just as amazing in this one and I’m still having a difficult time keeping my hands to myself.