Doomed - Charles Leclerc

6

-Aurora-

Aurora trudged through the front door, sand still clinging to the edges of her sandals. The scent of sea salt and sunscreen lingered on her skin, a bittersweet reminder of the day at the beach with Kika. Charles looked up from his book, his eyes brightening at her return. "Hey there, how was your day?" he inquired, his tone warm with genuine interest.

Aurora hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering between Charles and the floor. "It was... okay," she finally replied, a subtle sadness shadowing her eyes.

"Okay?" Charles raised an eyebrow, concern etching his features. "I thought you and Kika were going to have a blast."

Aurora forced a smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "We did have fun, but I couldn't help feeling... I don't know, guilty, I guess."

Charles closed his book, giving her his full attention. "Guilty? Why? What happened?"

Aurora took a seat on the couch beside him, the distance between them closing. "It's just that... I couldn't fully enjoy the day. I felt this sadness, this emptiness. Kika and I, we're supposed to be best friends, right? But I can't remember the last four years, the memories we built together. It's like there's this void, and I'm stuck on the outside looking in."

Charles listened quietly, his eyes reflecting a mix of empathy and understanding. "I can't imagine how challenging that must be for you," he said gently.

Aurora nodded, her throat tightening. "I feel like I'm playing pretend, like this isn't my life."

Charles reached for her hand, but appeared to change his mind at the last minute. "You don't have to pretend, Aurora. It's okay to feel the way you do."

Even though the memories of their love were lost to her, in that moment, Aurora felt an unfounded connection.

Aurora's brow furrowed as another thought crossed her mind. "Wait, Charles, do I have a job? What do I do for a living?" She felt a sense of embarrassment for not having considered this question earlier, as if she had neglected a fundamental part of her identity.

Charles chuckled softly, his hands going through his hair. "You're a motorsports journalist," he said with a warm smile. "You've been working for Sky Sports F1."

Aurora's eyes widened in surprise. "Motorsports journalist? Really?" She searched her mind for any traces of this career but found nothing. "I feel stupid for not remembering that. How did I end up in that field?"

Charles leaned back on the couch, a fondness in his gaze as he recounted the details. "Pierre got you an interview, and you impressed everyone with your passion and knowledge about Formula 1. Soon enough, you were reporting on races, interviewing drivers, and covering the behind-the-scenes action."

Aurora tried to absorb this new piece of information, a mix of amazement and confusion clouding her expression. "So, my work involves being around F1 events?"

Charles nodded. "Yes, and that's also why we were forced to see each other quite often. I'm a Formula 1 driver for Ferrari, and your work often brought you to the paddock."

Aurora's mind raced, trying to reconcile the image of herself as a motorsports journalist with the woman sitting on the couch, grappling with lost memories. "I must have loved what I did, right?" she asked, seeking affirmation.

Charles grinned. "Absolutely. You were passionate about it, and you made a name for yourself in the field. Everyone admired your dedication and the fresh perspective you brought to motorsports journalism."

Aurora couldn't help but feel a sense of pride, even if the memories were absent. "Thank you for telling me," she said, gratitude in her voice. "It's strange, trying to piece together a life I can't fully remember."

Charles smiled at her. "We'll take it one step at a time. You'll rediscover yourself, and I'll be right here to help you along the way."

-

After their conversation, Aurora excused herself to take a shower, feeling the need to wash away the lingering salt and sand from her day at the beach. The warm water cascaded over her, providing a momentary sanctuary from the complexities of her fractured memories. As she stepped out, clad in a fresh set of pajamas, she hesitated at the doorway to the living room.

"Charles," she called, still toweling off her hair. "About sleeping arrangements, there's only one bed in there, right?"

Charles looked up from his book, realizing the potential discomfort of the situation. "Oh, I thought you'd be in our bed. I slept in the guest room last night."

Aurora frowned, her mind grappling with the unfamiliarity of their shared space. "I didn't know, and I didn't want to assume. I slept on the couch."

Charles shook his head, concern etching his features. "Aurora, you just got out of the hospital. You shouldn't be sleeping on the couch."

"Sorry," she said as she looked at him a bit sheepishly.

"No, I should apologize. I shouldn't have assumed you felt comfortable enough to sleep in your own bed without asking. But you should sleep in your own bed, Lora."

Aurora felt a pang of guilt. "I don't want to invade your space, Charles. It's your room as well. Maybe I should take the guest room."

He smiled, his warmth reassuring. "You're not invading anything. It's our home, and we'll figure it out. You sleep in our bed; I'll take the guest room."

Reluctantly, she agreed, realizing that navigating the nuances of their life together would be a delicate process. As she filled a cup of water, Charles mentioned, "By the way, you have an appointment with Dr. Moreau at the hospital tomorrow. If you feel up to it, I could come with you. Or if you'd rather go with someone else, that's fine too."

Aurora considered the options for a moment before replying, "I'll go with you. It seems like the right thing to do."

A glimmer of hope flashed in Charles's eyes, grateful for her decision. "Thank you, Aurora. That means a lot."

With that settled, she retreated into the bedroom. She felt good about her conversations with Charles today. She knew he was trying, and she knew she should too.