I Buried My First Love After He Died in a Fire 30 Years Ago – I Mourned Him Until I Realized Who My New Neighbor Was

Walking into Camille’s home with Janet and Gabriel, I didn’t feel small for the first time in years. She met us at the door, smiling; a suit watched.

She zeroed in on Gabriel.

“You deserve your life back.”

“You shouldn’t have brought her here,” she hissed. “This girl has always been bad news.”

“I don’t care, Mom,” he said. “I’m done being erased by you. I’m here to reclaim my identity, and take over the pharmaceutical company.”

I held out the envelope of letters and records, including Gabriel’s released records and Dr. Keller’s signed summary letter — provided with Gabriel’s consent.

“We know what you did, Camille. The threats, the coverup… The board will see the truth and need someone else to step in. Gabriel will finally return to himself. And he can live the life he deserves.”

“This girl has always been bad news.”

 

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Camille’s smile stayed on, but her hand shook when her phone lit up: “BOARD EMERGENCY SESSION — TODAY.” She glanced at me.

She lowered the phone slowly. “You’ll regret this.”

“No. You’ll regret underestimating your son, and the poor mechanic’s daughter that he loved.”

She hesitated, then retreated, shoulders stiff. I didn’t take my eyes off her until the doors closed.

Gabriel let out a shaky breath and turned to me. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

I squeezed his hand. “You’re not alone anymore. Neither of us is. But this is just the beginning of a fight.”

“You’ll regret this.”

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Janet grinned. “Come on. Let’s go tell the world what really happened 30 years ago. It’s time to knock your mother off her pedastal.”

I looked at Gabriel, not Elias. Not the ghost. Not the boy I buried.

The past no longer owned either of us.

Gabriel.

“Let’s go,” I said. “And this time, nobody gets to rewrite our story.”

The past no longer owned either of us.