Bittersweet Read online

  Bittersweet

  K.S. Thomas

  Published by Never Did Point North Publishing, 2015.

  Copyright © 2015 - by Karina Gioertz.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the consent of the author, except where permitted by law.

  Bittersweet is a work of fiction. All characters and subject matter are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, alive of dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover by Mae I Designs and Photography

  www.maeidesign.com

  Final Proofing by Magic of Books

  http://magicofbookspromo.blogspot.ca/

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One | Esi

  Chapter Two | Carter ~ Seven Years Ago

  Chapter Three | Esi

  Chapter Four | Carter ~ Seven Years Ago

  Chapter Five | Esi

  Chapter Six | Carter ~ Seven Years Ago

  Chapter Seven | Esi

  Chapter Eight | Carter ~ Seven Years Ago

  Chapter Nine | Esi

  Chapter Ten | Carter ~ Seven Years Ago

  Chapter Eleven | Esi

  Chapter Twelve | Carter ~ Seven Years Ago

  Chapter Thirteen | Esi

  Chapter Fourteen | Carter ~ Seven Years Ago

  Chapter Fifteen | Esi

  Chapter Sixteen | Carter ~ Seven Years Ago

  Chapter Seventeen | Esi

  Chapter Eighteen | Carter ~ Seven Years Ago

  Chapter Nineteen | Esi

  Chapter Twenty | Carter ~ Seven Years Ago

  Chapter Twenty-One | Esi

  Chapter Twenty-Two | Carter ~ Seven Years Ago

  Chapter Twenty-Three | Esi

  Chapter Twenty-Four | Carter ~ Seven Years Ago

  Chapter Twenty-Five | Esi

  Chapter Twenty-Six | Carter ~ Seven Years Ago

  Chapter Twenty-Seven | Esi

  Chapter Twenty-Eight | Carter ~ Seven Years Ago

  Chapter Twenty-Nine | Esi

  Chapter Thirty | Carter ~ Seven Years Ago

  Chapter Thirty-One | Esi

  Chapter Thirty-Two | Carter ~ Seven Years Ago

  Chapter Thirty-Three | Esi

  Chapter Thirty-Four | Esi

  Chapter Thirty-Five | Carter ~ One Year Ago

  Acknowledgements

  Also By K.S. Thomas

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Esi

  My name is Esi Harper. Well, it’s Esidora Maelyn Harper, to be more specific. Over the years I’ve learned to be less specific and just sort of gloss over things. Like when people ask me what my mother does, I say, ‘she owns a quaint little gift shop downtown’. Or, when they want to know about my father, ‘he died in the line of duty’. When they ask about my job, ‘I’m a grief counselor’. Those answers are sufficient in satisfying most curiosities, and generally spare people the details they sometimes aren’t equipped to handle. Like my name. What a fucking mouthful.

  So, it was clear to me I’d found my match, when I came face to face with the man I was meant to marry and he introduced himself not as Jonathan James Carter, as was his name, specifically, but rather, simply said, ‘Carter’.

  In the seven years we’ve known each other, the only time we’ve ever called one another our entire names was earlier this morning when we exchanged our vows, which true to us had been simple, straightforward and frankly, lovely.

  “So, this is married Esi.” My sister, Lev, makes a face. And just because I know you’re wondering, it’s Levinora.

  “What, you don’t like married Esi?” I crinkle my nose, slightly confused by her distaste of my new marital status.

  “It’s not that. You just look so fucking happy.” She shakes her head at me in disgust. Then she grins.

  “You’re a jackass.” I give her a whack with my bouquet for good measure.

  “Hey, be gentle with that! I worked hard on it and I expect to win it back by the end of this little shindig.” Days like today it comes in handy having a florist for a sister. Thanks to her, exchanging vows felt like a brief moment of living a real life fairy tale as I stood there with Carter underneath the most beautiful archway wrapped in jasmine and honeysuckle vines, adorned with roses, hydrangea, orchids, lisianthus and lilies.

  I cock my brow suspiciously. “You want to catch the bouquet? You do know what catching it implies, don’t you? It means you’re next in line for a trip down the aisle.” Settling down hasn’t actually popped up on my sister’s radar yet, as far as I know. Lev is barely a year older than me, and with the same dark brown hair that shines auburn in the sun, people have mistaken us for twins more than a few times over the years. It’s funny really. For all the ways we look the same, we are completely different in every other way imaginable. Especially regarding things such as men and marriage. Or, so I had thought anyway until just now.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Esi. You know damn well I don’t believe in stupid superstitions. I just want my bouquet back.” Scratch that. I was right the first time.

  I feel my brow crinkle, still a bit confused, but now for a very different reason. Lev certainly hasn’t ever lacked any confidence, but this is a bit of an ego maniac moment even for her. “That’s weird, by the way. I mean, I get it, you did an amazing job, but what are you going to do with it? Take it home and stare at it while reminding yourself over and over how awesome you are? Don’t you have those little post it notes stuck everywhere around your house for that?”

  She snorts. “Yeah. That’s what I’m going to do with it.” She gestures at something I can’t see because I’m facing in the wrong direction and right now can’t be bothered to turn and look at what I’m mentally dubbing ‘the wedding monster’. “This marriage business isn’t just making you annoyingly happy, it’s apparently making you stupid as well. Glad I found out now. That way I can be sure to avoid it.”

  Carter’s arms wrap around my waist as he comes up from behind me, clearly the target of Lev’s snotty expression and not the wedding monster like I’d thought. “What are you going to be sure to avoid?”

  I peek up at him over my shoulder. “Oh, you know, the usual. Love and all that other icky crap.”

  He nods, his face slowly lowering itself into the nape of my neck. “Of course. Yeah, definitely avoid it,” he mutters, gently tracing my skin with his lips in a way that makes me forget my sister is standing right next to me.

  “You guys are gross.” But she’s smiling at me when she walks away and disappears on the dance floor.

  “I like being gross with you,” Carter’s voice rumbles quietly in my ear. “In fact. I think we should get a lot grosser. Right now.” Considering how close he’s standing to me and the parts of him I can feel pressing to the parts of me, I don’t have to ask what he means by grosser.

  “Carter,” I scold dramatically. “Our reception isn’t even over. There’s people everywhere. And more importantly, we’re out in an open field.” A field we drove two hours out of the city for because it’s surrounded by nothing but more open green with mounting trees on one side and the river running alongside the other. It’s beyond stunning. No matter which way you turn, the view is uninhibited by a single man made structure.

  “There’s always the car.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me. Not the sexy way – is there a sexy way? Regardless, I’m laughing.

  “You’re nuts!”

  “So, that’s a yes then?”

  I glance around the crowd. Between the food and the live music, no one seems to be paying us any attention.

  I shrug and pick at the
layers of satin and lace that make up my full-length ball gown dress. “If you can find my hoo-ha in all of this material, you’re welcome to it.”

  Carter smirks, that hot as hell sparkle of mischief blazing in his eyes. “Challenge accepted.”

  Clasping my hand tightly in his, he leads the way out of the wedding reception area and out toward the part of the field which has been deemed the parking lot. Having been among the first to arrive, our car is sitting unfortunately close to the party. However, if we manage to keep the volume level under wraps, there is a decent sized hedge acting as a barrier between the cars and the people, which should provide a reasonable amount of privacy.

  Thirty minutes and a serious leg cramp later, we emerge from the car with disheveled hair, a missing sock and a backwards petticoat I’m glad no one can see, but which is definitely twisted and uncomfortable. While Carter still has a noticeable limp, we are both still too delusional to realize it’s clear as day to everyone there where we were and what we’d been doing. Or maybe we just don’t care.

  The reception goes on until late into the evening, and even after the last of our friends and family leaves, Carter and I stand out in that field, slow dancing to the sounds of quiet wind rustling the leaves and brushing across the overgrown grass.

  “I don’t want tonight to ever end,” I whisper into the curve of his neck. It’s my favorite place because it fits my face perfectly and I can inhale his amazing scent to my heart’s desire. Carter always smells of Irish Spring soap, citrus and, because he’s a chronic gum chewer, fresh mint. I can’t imagine anything else ever being a more enticing combination of scents.

  He chuckles softly, and the rumble in his throat vibrates against my cheek. “You do realize we’ll still be married in the morning, don’t you?” But he makes no efforts to break the hold he has on me, or to stop our bodies from swaying back and forth ever so gently.

  “I do. But it won’t be our wedding day anymore. I won’t be a bride. You won’t be a groom. And most importantly, once I take off this dress, I won’t ever get a chance to wear again.” My head pops up involuntarily when I’m hit by a stroke of genius. “Oh, unless we agree right now to renew our vows every year. I’m not saying we have to have a whole wedding, just as long as I can wear this dress and listen to you make your vows again. That’s really all I’d need.”

  He grins. “That’s all, huh?”

  “Too much? Too crazy?” I muse.

  Carter kisses my forehead, then the tip of my nose. He’s aiming for my lips when he answers, “No such thing.”

  Both arms wrap securely around his neck and I lean back, letting the sensation of Carter’s lips on mine take over my entire physical being. He has the kind of kiss a girl could drown in, and I can’t help but think how lucky I am, to never be kissed by any other man for as long as I live.

  “Think anyone else is as happy as we are?” I mumble, his mouth still on mine.

  “I hope so.” His hazel eyes open and he gazes down at me. I’ve never once been able to say no to them in seven years. “You ready to get out of here?”

  I lock my arms tighter, securing him in my hold a moment longer. “I don’t know. Do you promise to marry me all over again next year?”

  His expression is serious as he comes in closer again, but his eyes are smiling, lights from the stars reflecting in them, dancing wildly. “I already said I would.” He runs his tongue over my lips, and I try to catch it with my mouth.

  “Yeah. Let’s get out of here so I can have my way with you again, Mr. Husband. I hope you’re ready.”

  He laughs, already leading me from the open green, back to the now abandoned lot area where our car is sadly parked in solitary. “More than ready. The question is, are you? Because what I have in mind, will likely keep you awake until morning. You’re not tired after all that dancing, are you?” He turns back, the glow of the moon revealing a wicked grin which promises naughty things to come.

  “Not tired. Not one little bit.” Just to prove it, I speed up a bit.

  Still giggling, I climb into the passenger seat of his 1975 Mercedes-Benz 280. It’s yellow and reminds me of a taxi cab, and if I am being entirely honest, it’s one of the reasons I fell in love with him. Because I drive a 1975 VW Beetle in the exact same color. I mean really. What are the odds? Clearly, we are soul mates.

  We have quite a drive to get back home. Even though our place is on the outskirts of town and nowhere near the actual city, it’s still not even remotely as country as this place is. So, we take the nearly abandoned highway, traveling alongside little else but endless pastures filled with cattle (I saw them on the drive up) and the occasional farm house sitting off in the distance.

  A half hour into our drive, we wind up on the least pleasant stretch of the highway. A curvy, winding patch of road, accommodating the enormous lake that lies beyond the railing to the left. With the limited light streaming only from our own vehicle, Carter almost runs right into a load of massive tree trunks which have apparently fallen from a loaded tractor-trailer and rolled smack in the center of our lane.

  Startled, I scream. Carter’s arm reaches out across my chest as he slams onto the brakes, then, unable to come to a total stop in time, he makes a split-second decision to go around it, taking us into oncoming traffic, just as we are coming up around another turn. Switching gears, he presses down on the gas hard to get past the tree trunks and back into our lane.

  My heart is in my throat, pounding away, making it hard to breathe and seconds seem to last for an eternity. Then it happens.

  “Holy shit!”

  Carter’s outburst jerks my eyes from the trees to my right and back to the road ahead where there’s a set of headlights coming right at us. With the logs still beside us on one side and the lake on the other, Carter has nowhere to go. He slams on the brakes again, harder this time, and I hope against all hope that the vehicle coming straight at us will be able to stop in time.

  I hear myself cry out, but I don’t remember doing it. Somewhere in the midst of panic, I feel like I am having an outer body experience. Disconnected from myself and what is happening, I barely registered when Carter shouts for me to hold on, right before he yanks the steering wheel to the right, whipping the whole car to its side where it slides with a frightening amount of force until it collides with the semi coming toward us, finally bringing everything to a crashing halt.

  ***

  When I come to, I hear voices all around me, yelling things to one another I can’t quite make out. My head is throbbing and the whole side of my dress feels soaking wet. For a moment I think we’ve landed in the lake.

  “Carter.” I feel my mouth open, but not a sound comes out. I attempt to lift my hand to my head, instinctively wanting to numb the pounding in my skull with the pressure of my own touch so I can somehow pry open my eyes, which seem to be sealed shut against my will.

  Desperate to know that Carter is alright, I fight my own body, willing it to move in some way.

  “Ma’am. Ma’am! Can you hear me? Ma’am, you’ve been in an accident. Help is here, but I need you to remain completely still until we can get you out of the car. Okay?” It’s a man, and under other circumstances I might have found the sound of his deep voice calming. Except these aren’t other circumstances, and given my suddenly horrifying reality, the only voice that can keep me sane at this very moment is noticeably, and terrifyingly, absent.

  I hear the agonizing noise of crunching metal as they attempt to pry the door open. Minutes pass, and slowly but surely, I can feel my body coming back to me and with it a new kind of pain I’ve never felt before.

  When I finally manage to open my eyes far enough to get a look around, I glimpse at my own palm lying turned up in my other hand. Bright red covers it from the tips of my fingers to the edge of my wrist and I realize I am nowhere near the lake, and what I thought was water drenching my wedding gown, is in reality my own blood.

  “Oh my God,” I gasp at the sight. The man I heard talking to me
earlier, is still beside me, holding my head in place to try and keep me from making any sudden moves. I don’t have the strength to fight him, but I manage to stretch out my left hand to search the driver’s side. “Carter.” This time my voice is stronger.

  “Ma’am, I need you to stop moving please. Your husband is no longer in the vehicle. My partner and I were able to get him out first. The paramedics are working on him as we speak. Right now I need you to remain as still as possible so I can get you out as well.”

  My eyes travel to my right, seeking out the face that goes with the voice, but he’s moved out of sight, the sound of a saw coming to life replacing the smooth darkness of his voice. Before I can begin to panic about having been left alone, a woman shows up at the window. She isn’t much older than me. Bright blue eyes and a kind smile I know I’ll remember for the rest of my life. “Is he okay? My husband? Please, you have to make sure he’s okay,” I plead.

  “That’s someone else’s job right now. My job is to make sure you’re okay. Which I have a feeling he would appreciate.”

  Continuing to busy my mind, I start to study this woman who is here to save me. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a tight bun and she is dressed in a heavy work coat. She‘s a paramedic. A red sort of star with a snake curling a staff is pinned to her collar, I need to look up what that means as soon as I get home. And I am going home. This will not be the end of my trip. Carter and I have not waited seven years to be married only to spend a few lost hours as husband and wife. We have pledged lifetimes to one another, and lifetimes we will have.

  “Ma’am. Ma’am!” she calls, demanding my attention. “Very good. You’re alert. My name is Rachel, what’s yours?”

  “Es-si” I stutter in between short breaths, and it is then that I notice I’ve started hyperventilating.

  “Esi. Alright, Esi, we need to try and get your breathing to calm down a bit, so I want you to take some slow, deep breaths for me. Think you can do that? Very nice. So, Esi. Is that short for something?” She continues making conversation and I know it’s just to keep me from paying too close attention to the two men who are still trying to cut me out of the vehicle, and the part where none of us really know what they will find when they do. For all I know, my body has been severed in half and is merely being held together by the smashed in metal frame of Carter’s car. It would certainly explain all the blood. But I can’t think about that now. I need to stay focused. Focused on staying alive. So, I shut out the thoughts about severed bodies and pools of blood and try to remember the last thing Rachel asked me. My name. That’s what it was. I want to laugh because it’s so typical, but my body reminds me it may be severed in half and so laughing is physically impossible.