Doomed - Charles Leclerc

19

-Aurora-

Charles had left for Italy early. Though most drivers would be arriving on Wednesday or Thursday, he had departed on Monday morning. When Aurora returned from her errands, she found the house empty, confirming that Charles had indeed left. The silence of the empty house was deafening, amplifying the uncertainty she felt about their current situation. She wandered through the rooms, her footsteps echoing off the walls, and it struck her how unfamiliar this place felt without him. It was strange to think that his presence had become so integral to her sense of home, yet now she felt a mixture of relief and sorrow at his absence.

Since Aurora had been preoccupied with her thoughts after their encounter, she had forgotten to buy more than half of her groceries. The thought of venturing out again felt like a small relief, a mundane task that might ground her scattered mind. As she walked to the grocery store, music playing in her ears, she felt a glimmer of control over her life, a sensation that had been elusive the previous week. The memory loss had been mentally draining. It was all the little things combined that constantly reminded her of it. For example, she hadn't been able to read Charles after his lie. She had no clue why he lied, what he lied about, or what to expect. She felt as if she didn't know him at all. Why would he lie about where he had been, or with whom? If he truly loved her and married her, why hadn't he been honest?

As she walked, she tried to push these thoughts aside, focusing instead on the music. She hummed along to "Something in the Orange" by Zach Bryan, a song she had found in her playlist and immediately loved. Even though she didn't remember adding it, she knew it had been her favourite. The familiarity of the tune provided a small comfort, a connection to a part of herself she feared she had lost.

Arriving at the grocery store, Aurora took her time selecting the items she needed. The routine of shopping was soothing in its simplicity. She meticulously checked her list, making sure not to forget anything this time. Each item she placed in her basket felt like a small victory, a step towards reclaiming normalcy.

As she walked over to the register, she suddenly froze. Her eyes had landed on a curly-haired man, someone who had been stuck in her mind since their first meeting, at least as far as she remembered it to be. He stood at the end of the aisle, casually browsing the shelves. She eyed him a little too long, and he started to notice, looking up. She quickly averted her eyes, staring at the rack in front of her.

Shit.

In front of her was a rack filled with different kinds of condoms. Bloody hell. She could feel her cheeks turning red as his eyes surely landed on her and the rack she was looking at. She could hear him chuckle beside her, which made her roll her eyes, still avoiding his gaze. She tried to steady her breathing before attemping to casually walk away.

As she finally turned to go pay for her groceries, he took her arm, stopping her. His touch was gentle but firm, sending a jolt through her.

"Barlowe," he said, his voice a soft murmur as her eyes finally met his.

"Norris," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

A heavy silence fell between them. Aurora had so many questions; she didn't understand how they were supposed to know each other. It bothered her that he knew all about their history while she knew nothing. She didn't dare shift her gaze away from his eyes.

"I, eh-" he began as he let go of her arm, his hesitation palpable.

"You...?"

"How are you?" he asked, looking up at her face again, his eyes searching hers.

"I'm... managing?" she said, giggling a little at her own response, which made him chuckle as well.

"You still don't-"

"Remember, no, I don't," she interrupted, knowing what he was going to ask. He closed his eyes for a moment before finding hers again. She noticed something in his eyes, though she couldn't quite pinpoint what it was. Curiosity, pain, regret, longing, distance, or something else—she wasn't sure. There was an intensity in his gaze that made her heart race.

"I see..." he said, averting his eyes once again, the momentary connection breaking.

"Can we, like, talk?" she asked, her voice soft but insistent.

"You want to talk to a person you barely know?" he joked, but there was an undeniable pinch of sincerity in his voice.

"We do know each other; I just don't remember," she said, lifting her shoulders sheepishly, her vulnerability laid bare.

"I'm not sure if Charles would be okay with that," he said, finding her eyes once more, the mention of Charles adding a layer of tension to the moment.

"I don't care what he thinks," she said, looking back at the rack, forgetting it was full of condoms. The absurdity of the situation made her smile faintly.

After a moment of silence, he spoke again, "Doesn't sound like you need those."

She couldn't help but smile to herself. He was right; she didn't need those at all, not with the state of her and Charles's relationship. They were barely talking, let alone doing anything beyond that.

"I find it curious how many people in my life didn't bother to introduce themselves when I woke up, but you never have, at least not because you wanted to," she blurted out, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. He sighed, looking at her with an apologetic expression.

"I didn't know what to say to you, so I said nothing," he confessed, his honesty disarming.

"Are you free this evening?" she asked him, her heart pounding in her chest.

"For you, I am, Barlowe," he said, smiling at her softly, the warmth in his eyes offering a glimpse of hope.