Apex | Charles Leclerc

Chapter 3

"When is your birthday?"

"October 16 in the year 1997."

"What do you do for a living?"

"I'm a Formula One driver."

"What team do you race for?"

"Ferrari."

Everyone held a dumbstruck look on their face as Charles answered the last question as quick as lightning. Luke didn't react and instead continued to ask more questions, one of which completely tore my heart into pieces.

"What's your marital status?"

Charles was quiet before he opened his mouth to speak and I felt everyone's eyes move over to where I was, pain and pity in their features. "Single."

Before Arthur or Lorenzo could even step towards me, I walked towards the door and stormed out. Everything felt hazy as I felt a tightness in my chest, my fingers growing numb. I didn't even notice Mick and Max sitting in the waiting room as I headed straight for the first vacant room I could find. It was another patient room, air filled with the smell of disinfectant and bed neatly covered in fresh linens. I closed the door behind me and took a seat on the sofa, and held my head using both hands, leaning forward as I closed my eyes.

It's been years since I last had a panic attack and the person who's helped me get out of it currently has no memory of me. He still thinks he races with Ferrari so there's the question of what year his mind is currently on. Was it before I met him? Or after? The Charles I met back in 2025 was completely different to the one I fell in love with. He already had his small mannerisms back then and the habits he's maintained ever since, but during the time we spent together, something deep inside him had changed and everyone saw it.

Everyone used to say that the Charles they knew before I was in the picture was someone who just went on with his life, not making any plans for the future. He worked and travelled, not giving a damn as to what the future held. He had just ended a relationship back then and had no plans of getting into another for the rest of his life. He stopped believing that love should be a necessity in life because of everything he's witnessed.

I heard a door open and a pair of shoes came into my vision. The person crouched in front of me and held both of my wrists, not saying a word as I tried to control my breathing. All I could hear was the air coming out of my lips and the bustle of people outside the door.

It was five minutes later when I looked up and met Mick's blue eyes. "What happened?" He asked and I sighed, closing my eyes as I leaned back on the sofa. The other side of the sofa dipped and I knew he had sat down. "We were about to go in when the doctors went through the door so Max and I just waited outside."

"He doesn't remember me." I mumbled, not knowing if Mick heard me.

"What?"

"He doesn't remember me." I said louder and I watched as the shock registered on his face. "My husband doesn't remember me. What the fuck did I do to God for him to do this to me?"

"Maybe it's just one of those short term types?" Mick asked and I wanted to curse him for his optimism while I basked in misery. "What did the doctor say?"

I shrugged my shoulders and ran a hand through my hair. "I walked out before they could reach a verbal conclusion."

"See? We could be wrong." He said, giving me a reassuring smile and squeezing my shoulder. One of the few things I hate about Mick is how his optimism tends to spread out to the people around him. Half of the time, I appreciate it, but sometimes it doesn't work.

The door opened and we both turned around to see Max, eyes darker than usual. "Or not." I said as my eyes met his and I already knew he wasn't happy. The three of us walked back to Charles' room after Max asked me if I was alright and I answered with a curt nod.