The Moments I Can't Keep...
"I'm fine," I said quietly, forcing the words past the tightness in my throat. "I'm really fine."
All three of them were looking at me my mother, my father, and Victor. Worry sat clearly on their faces, and guilt twisted painfully in my chest.
"I think I'm just… overwhelmed," I continued, managing a small smile. "The engagement, the wedding plans, everything happening so fast. That's all."
My mother exhaled in relief immediately. She reached for my hands, squeezing them gently.
"I knew it," she said. "Anyone would feel like this. You've been so strong."
My father nodded. "You should've said something earlier."
Victor didn't say anything at first.
He was watching me.
Closely.
As if trying to decide whether to believe me or not.
After a moment, he spoke. "Maybe you need some air," he said carefully. "A change of space."
I looked up at him.
"How about a long drive?" he added. "Just us. No plans. No pressure."
My heart skipped and then sank.
A long drive.
It was something we used to do often. Late nights. Quiet roads. Music low. Conversations that felt endless.
Some of my best memories.
Memories that ended badly.
"I don't know…" I hesitated, my fingers curling into the fabric of my sleeve. Fear whispered at the back of my mind. What if this is where something changes?
But another thought followed it.
What if these are the last moments I'll ever have like this?
Victor waited. He didn't push. That made it harder.
Before I could answer, my mother smiled. "Go," she said softly. "You need it."
"Yes," my father agreed. "Clear your head. You'll feel better."
I looked at them alive, smiling, whole.
And I knew.
These moments were fragile. Borrowed. Temporary.
"Okay," I said finally. "We'll go."
Victor's shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly. "Good."
A few minutes later, we stepped outside together. The night air was cool, quiet, wrapping around us like a secret.
Victor opened the car door for me, just like he always did.
As I slid into the seat, I glanced back once.
My parents stood at the doorway, watching us leave, smiling like nothing in the world was wrong.
I waved.
The car pulled away slowly.
Streetlights passed one by one, blurring into soft lines of light.
Victor's hand rested lightly on the steering wheel, calm and steady.
I stared out the window, my reflection faint against the glass.
These are the best moments of my life, I thought.
Victor reached to the side and picked up his iPad. "I wanted to show you something," he said, his tone gentle. "Wedding details."
He handed it to me.
The screen lit up with carefully curated images grand halls draped in white and gold, crystal chandeliers, long tables decorated with roses and candles. Everything looked flawless. Expensive. Untouchable.
"It's beautiful," I said honestly. "Really elegant."
Victor smiled faintly, clearly pleased. "I thought you'd like it."
I scrolled slowly, my fingers hesitating before I spoke again. "Maybe we could add something softer here," I suggested carefully. "Less gold… more warmth. And perhaps smaller lights? It might feel more personal."
He leaned closer, looking at the screen with interest.
For a moment, I thought he might agree.
"It's a nice idea," he said calmly. "But I think we should keep it grand."
I looked at him. "Grand?"
He nodded, completely at ease. "My business associates will be there. International investors. Old friends. People who expect a certain… standard."
I swallowed.
"I don't want anything simple to look underwhelming," he continued, his voice still kind. "This wedding needs to reflect stability. Success. Perfection."
I forced a small smile. "Of course."
I scrolled again, trying once more. "What about adding some greenery? Or maybe a softer color palette near the entrance?"
Victor chuckled lightly, reaching out to stop my hand. "Elena," he said gently, "you know I appreciate your thoughts."
Then, almost affectionately, he added, "But trust me. I know what works."
His tone wasn't harsh.
That somehow made it worse.
"These people don't come just to celebrate," he continued. "They observe. They judge. Everything has to be rich. Polished. Impressive."
I nodded slowly, the iPad suddenly feeling heavier in my hands.
"Perfect," he finished, as if that explained everything.
I handed the iPad back to him.
"It looks perfect," I repeated quietly.
Victor glanced at me, satisfied, and placed the device aside. His hand reached for mine, squeezing it reassuringly.
"You don't need to worry about these things," he said softly. "Just be there. That's enough."
I looked out the window again, watching the lights blur past.
He thought he was protecting me from stress.
A strange heaviness settled in my chest as the car moved forward.
Victor was talking something about guest lists, about timing but his voice started to blur, fading into the background like noise underwater.
Something was wrong.
Not anxiety.
Not fear but a memory.
My fingers tightened around my lap.
The streetlights ahead flickered and suddenly, my vision shifted.
I wasn't in the car anymore.
I saw it.
A wide road.
Headlights flashing too close.
A massive truck rushing from the opposite side
Victor's eyes were on his phone.
My heart stopped.
"No…" I whispered.
The vision slammed into reality.
The same road,the same curve,the same headlights.
The truck was coming fast.
Victor was still looking down.
I realized it too late to explain.
Too late to shout.
Instinct took over.
"Victor!" I screamed—and without thinking, I grabbed the steering wheel and yanked it to the side.
The world tilted violently.
The car skidded.
Tires screeched against the road as everything spun out of control. The headlights flashed past us too close, terrifyingly close..
Then
Impact.
Not with the truck.
With a tree.
The car slammed hard, the force throwing us forward as the airbags deployed with a deafening sound. Everything went white for a second.
Then silence.
Heavy. Ringing silence.
My chest heaved as I sucked in air, my hands shaking uncontrollably.
The truck had stopped.
I could see it through the cracked windshield pulled over safely, untouched.
The driver jumped out, alive.
Breathing.
Shouting something I couldn't hear.
I laughed weakly.
Then cried.
Because in my past life
that truck hadn't stopped.
The driver hadn't lived.
He had died trying to avoid us.
And Victor had looked at me afterward and said
"Accidents happen."
My vision blurred as the truth hit me harder than the crash.
I had changed it.
I had changed the moment that killed an innocent man.
Victor turned toward me slowly, his face pale, shock written clearly across it.
"Elena…" his voice was rough. "What did you just do?"
I stared at the windshield, my whole body trembling.
"I saw it," I whispered. "I saw it before it happened."
He didn't understand.
He couldn't.
But I did.
The past had tried to repeat itself
and this time, it failed.
The truck driver was alive.
The world had shifted.