apocalypse | charles leclerc ✓

chapter 19 | coup de grâce

«Can't keep hanging on to what is dead and gone.»

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If she pondered on it — which she didn't very often quite honestly — none of her past breakups made her cry, if she ignored her first-ever boyfriend that was. Sloane broke up with people, they didn't break up with her. With the guy she dated before Charles, a five-month relationship that didn't even make it to the meeting the parents stage, she'd broken up outside a club in Rotterdam, telling him it wasn't working for her after realising she was too good for him, something Aurora let her know the moment Sloane talked about the guy the first time. She didn't think too much about the consequences because her exes usually got it over pretty quickly — the guy before Charles, she'd call him that from now on, did upload on social media a story of him getting a lap dance no less than two days after their relationship ended so whatever.

She never viewed herself as the one. The girl people lamented or fought for. She was replaceable, but so were they.

Sometimes she felt like a cunt for taking her relationships that way, she'd shared those thoughts with Aurora. This one would always take her side regarding anything, so she never agreed with her on the calling herself a cunt part, refuting that it was okay to end a relationship with someone for whatever reasons Sloane felt were worthy enough. Sweet Aurora wasn't the one to seek romantic advice from though. The girl had only had one serious boyfriend in her life, but whether it was because of independence or whatever reason, she envied her friend on that sometimes. That ability to be alone.

It came as a conclusion, as she stared at the phone in front of her, that the reason her past breakups were easily forgetful had been because she never loved someone so much to the point of ripping a part of herself for them to take. A love so strong it turned stifling. She'd never given herself the same way she'd done it with Charles. So exciting and beautiful as well as miserable and upsetting.

Her time, heart, life, mind, emotions...she shared all of it with him. It wouldn't be wise if she didn't let go.

With shaky hands, she grabbed the phone just to set it back down again. The atmosphere in the room held an unknown heaviness. It was like the air didn't filter through the spaces, and everything felt warmer than it should. Maybe it was only her perception. Sloane was sweating, a big lump forming in her throat and detaining her from straight-up breaking into sobbing.

She tried once more, this time successfully gathering enough of herself to avoid pushing the phone away again. She checked the time and somewhere from a corner of her mind, a little voice whispered you're a piece of shit for doing it this way. Her subconscious was very correct.

There were two sides of herself battling one another. One of them wished for him to be busy with his racing stuff, that he didn't notice the call and therefore would ignore it, but Charles, who had been waiting for a sign of life from her for days, wouldn't hesitate to pick up the moment a new incoming call with her name flashed on the screen of his phone. The other side of her, the one who wanted to deliver the final blow once and for all, was relieved when indeed he answered on the third tone.

Her stomach dropped. A nauseating sensation spreading all over her insides.

"Ma be—Sloane?" Sometimes he kept butchering the pronunciation. She never thought of missing that up until that moment. "Shit, where...how are you?" He breathlessly uttered, not even excusing himself from the conversation he was having and already wandering to a more private side of the motorhome. "Are you okay?"

She swallowed hard. Could a heartbreak be literal? Like could her heart tear itself in two halves? Because she was feeling something pretty similar only by hearing the concern and urgency in his voice.