Precious Star

Catch Up

July 17th, 2015

Alaina's POV:

He looked so peaceful. I hated it. I had come every day for the past 9 months during visiting hours, being to first to arrive and last to leave. Every day for those past 9 months, I watched him, hoping and praying that he would open his eyes and look at me and smile once again. I just wanted him back. I know he wasn't dead but our house was quiet and lonely. Every night since the crash I laid in his bed, not wanting to leave. I yearn for his presence, for his comfort, for him. I hardly ate, I talked to no one, other than his family and the Leclerc family. My anxiety and depression were at an all-time high. When Papa died I had Jules there with me, now that Jules was in the same position as Papa I had no one.

No one but him.

The only times I did eat or calmed down during a panic or anxiety attack was because Charles was there. He would come over every day make me breakfast and take me with Jules. He took care of me when no one, not even myself would. I could talk to him about anything and everything, without me having to say something. We have this connection, that I don't think I ever had with Papa or have with Jules. It was this instant connection with him the day Jules brought him over for the first time.

I remember Jules had mentioned him many times, 'Charles this,' 'Charles that.' So after months of hearing of this so-called Charles, he finally brought him over. And when he did, it didn't seem as if I had just met a stranger. It was like meeting my twin flame. My soul danced when meeting him. He brought a new sense of life and peace. He was everything I needed and more.

Pulling out my thoughts was the sound of the monitor going beeping. Looking I am met with a flat line. No. Grabbing the remote I rapidly hit the call button. "Charles! Charles!" I screamed franticly looking at the room door waiting for him to come in but he never did. Just the doctors and nurses. "Jules, don't leave me. Please. I need you, JULES WAKE UP!" Being pulled back by nurses I watched as they tried to bring him back. But after numerous tries, it was no use. The nurses and doctors gave me condolences before leaving me alone with Jules. Numb and empty. I stood there looking at him, he looked the same as he did a few minutes ago. Peaceful. I hated it. Because now I'm stuck tormented and confused. Tormented with the pain of guilt and heartache. Confused with Charles's absence.

Where was he? He had gone out of the room to get us some coffee.

Everyone came, the Bianchi family, the Leclerc family, all the drivers.  Everyone but him. By the time everyone had left, I knew he wouldn't come back. But I didn't expect him to be gone for years on end. He had left me alone in my darkness. That day I didn't just lose Jules. I lost Charles. Surprisingly his hurt the most. Jules didn't leave because he wanted to. Charles chose to leave. He threw the towel. That's what hurt the most. Being left by choice, not by chance. And when he left, he took my soul with him.

3 whole years it took for him to come back. But when he did, he acted as if nothing had happened.

~

The day I decided to go out for a small jog down Monte Carlo. There had rumors going around that a certain Monegasque had been seen around town. But I doubt it. There was absolutely no way he could have been gone for three years and just come back all of a sudden. But I was wrong. Rounding a corner I bumped into someone. Not just someone, him.

"Valentine," I watched as his eyebrows lifted and his eyes grew with them.

"Charles?" I whispered, taken back by the person in front of me. He had changed. His sideburns were long gone, he looked much older, more mature. He was glowing. He sure as hell didn't look like he had been living through. Not the way I had, at least. But there was something in his eyes, those gorgeous green eyes. They held what I had been holding ever since that day, heartache.

"How have you been? It's been a while."

"'How have I been?'" I repeated, taken back once again. "'It's been a while?' Really?"

"I've been meaning to catch up-"

"'You've been meaning to catch up?'"

"You know you repeat what other people say a lot," he chuckled. God that chuckle. If we weren't in this situation I would appreciate it even more than I could ever imagine. That little laugh of his brought me a sense of peace and comfort. And I hate that even in this moment I felt that peace.

"Where were you?"

"We'll I've kind of been all over the place, you know."

"No, I don't know. I didn't know anything about you. I hate not knowing things, you know that."

"Well, I am racing for Alfa Romero. I haven't told anyone this but I have been talking with Ferrari and there might be-"

"That day, Leclerc. Where were you that day?"

"I don't know what day you are talking about Valentine."

"Stop calling me Valentine-!"

"Then you stop calling me Leclerc! What happened to you calling me Charles?"

"He left. He left me alone to watch the only person I needed most die. That 'Charles' guy left 3 years again without a single word. I knew nothing of him, not even his own family."

He stayed quiet, looking everywhere but at me. "So now tell me, Leclerc, where were you that day Jules died?"

"That should be none of your concern," he simply replied, shrugging his shoulders. His face showed no remorse, no sorrow, no regret.

"You're dead to me." I couldn't see him anymore. I couldn't see or talk to him because I know I would break. I know that if turned to look at him I would pour my heart out to him. Because even though he had left me that day, he took a part of me with him. I yearned for his return every day, and still yearn for it to this day. But I will never admit that to anyone, not even myself. Because he chose to leave.