champagne problems

19

What if she's written "mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind? One slip and falling back into the hedge maze, oh, what a way to die.

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Charlotte's POV:

As I look back on it now, I couldn't help but admit that I was wrong from the very beginning. From the moment I made the decision to leave, I knew it was the wrong choice. Yet, despite that inner voice screaming at me to stop, to turn back, I pushed forward, ignoring the weight of my actions.

Leaving Engfa without a proper goodbye was a mistake I'll always regret. I knew it would hurt her, knew it would leave a wound that would never fully heal. But in my selfishness, I chose to prioritize my own comfort over her feelings.

And then there was the letter. Oh, how I wish I could take back those words, those feeble attempts to explain the unexplainable. A letter which I choose as a way of shielding myself from having to look her in the eyes and see the pain I had caused. I wouldn't survive that.

But perhaps what weighs heaviest on my heart was the fact that I couldn't give Engfa a reason for my departure. She begged for peace, for closure, and yet I had nothing to offer her. No excuse, no justification that could ease her pain.

"I didn't know you're capable of being so cruel."

How could I ever forget the anguish in her voice, the disbelief etched across her face? Those words haunt me still, a constant reminder of the pain I inflicted. I can see it all so clearly, as if it were happening before me once again.

Her tears, the pain in her eyes, I can still see it all in my mind, clear as crystal. And it made me want to die.

No matter how hard I try, I can't erase the memory from my mind. It's etched there, a permanent scar on my conscience, a reminder of the damage I caused. Engfa deserved better than what I gave her, deserved a love that didn't leave her shattered and broken.

I was wrong, so very wrong, for leaving the way I did. Wrong for ending things with a letter instead of a proper confrontation. Wrong for failing to come up with a good reason to explain myself to Engfa. And for that, I can never forgive myself.

I felt Mew stirring in his sleep beside me. He rolled to his side and I felt his strong arms wrapped around my waste and his nose went to rest on the crook of my neck. My back was pressed into his chest as he pulled me closer to him unconsciously.

I gripped the sheets tightly and pulled it closer to my chest as I felt a new wave of guilt traveled through my body. A single tear had fallen from my eyes.

Without ever touching her skin, how can I feel so guilty as sin?

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I woke up alone in an empty bed, but I could still feel the warmth of Mew from where he was lying earlier, so it must not be too long when he left the room. I stared blankly at the ceiling for a moment, as I let my mind drift off somewhere away from my harsh reality.

I sighed, still feeling the heaviness in my shoulders as I stood up to get ready for the day.

I went out of the bedroom, all cleaned-up but still in my pyjamas. I went to the kitchen, and there I found Mew sitting on one of the kitchen chairs, a coffee in hand and his eyes were lost in a book.

I stared at him for a moment, admiring his handsomeness and the peace he radiates as I watch him study. A small, appreciative smile came creeping up my mouth.

"Good morning," I said, finally deciding to make my presence known. He immediately looked up when he heard my voice.

"Good morning, Mrs. Suppassit," Mew smiled endearingly at me, as he stood up to offer me a chair beside him. "What do you want, My Love? Coffee? Pancakes? I'll make it for you."

He leaned down to kiss me once I sat down on the chair he offered. I smiled at his sweet gesture and watched him fiddle with the kitchenwares on the countertop.

"Just coffee," I answered, my smile faltering a little. I didn't deserve all of this. I didn't deserve anything good in this world.

"Alright,"

He handed me a steaming cup of black coffee and went to sit once again in his chair, his arms gracefully placed on the table, his chin resting on his hand, his gaze fixed on me with a love that felt both comforting and suffocating.

"Do you think we'll pass the bar exams?" He asked, feigning his uncertainty, but I could sense his confidence, his certainty in his own abilities.

"We'll pass," I replied simply, my voice lacking the same assurance he exuded. I couldn't help but wonder if he noticed the hesitation, the doubt that lingered in my words.

His hand reached for my own, his eyes never leaving mine, filled with an affection that should have warmed my heart. But the only thing that I felt was guilt.

"Thank you for making me the happiest man in the world," he said, his words sincere, his gratitude palpable.

But my response was merely a forced smile, masking the turmoil churning within me. If only Mew knew the truth, if only he could glimpse into the depths of my mind where thoughts of Engfa danced relentlessly, despite my outward commitment to him. If only he knew the guilt that gnawed at me, the fear of betraying the love he so freely gave.

I kept thinking why? I didn't even touched her skin, but how can I be feeling so guilty as sin?

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As I navigated through the days as Mew's wife, I couldn't escape the ghost of Engfa, her absence a presence that loomed over me, casting a shadow on the happiness I was supposed to feel. And in the quiet moments, when Mew's presence faded into the background, it was Engfa's face I saw.

Despite the weight of the wedding band on my finger and the commitment it brought to us both, I couldn't shake the persistent thoughts of Engfa. It was baffling, really. These thoughts had never plagued me with such intensity before, so why now, after committing my life to Mew?

Engfa's presence in my mind was unstopping, haunting me day and night. The things such as messy top lip kisses, the non-existent trysts, which didn't really occur between me and Engfa kept popping inside my mind, as I kept on daydreaming of her. The thoughts of our love making was a symphony of whispers and sighs, a dance of two souls entwined in the embrace of desire. Her touch was gentle yet electrifying, sending shivers down my spine and igniting a fire within me that burned with a fierce intensity. And in my mind, I felt myself giving in.

All the visions of her that I was constantly seeing caused me to think whether I was bad, or was I going mad, or am I being wise?

As I thought about these illusions in my head, a lingering question hung over my cloudy mind. Without ever touching her skin, how can I be guilty as sin?

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a/n: I know I promised a chapter which focused on the present, but I couldn't help but write a chapter of Charlotte having these spicy thoughts about Engfa. I am SO in love with Taylor Swift's Guilty As Sin as well, so I put my two current obsessions together, and BOOM!

I enjoyed writing this chapter, so I hope you guys enjoy this as well. xoxoxo 😘