his girls (Charles Leclerc)

twenty

January 27th

the anniversary
the day you took your final breath. when your eyes closed for the very last time.
the last day i would see you alive.
my last moment with you.

the day our hearts would start forever aching. when we found out how cruel both life and death could be.
the last day we'd ever feel whole,
the anniversary of the day you died and so many parts of I did too.

Charles handled me delicately as he pulled me closer to him and tucked me into his arms as if he was afraid I was going to shatter into a million pieces in his arms. I couldn't really blame him though, because I felt like I was going to fall apart any second.

He had always been there for me when I needed him, even in Italy he would always reach out to me I'd just never respond, but this time it felt different, more intimate in a way.

Maybe because I was actually his girlfriend.

Or maybe because I was feeling vulnerable.

He was quiet as he tugged me behind him to the couch, letting me collapse into his lap in muffled sobs. Everything inside of him was screaming to ask what he could do to help. Instead, he held me close as I cried, hands rubbing over my back soothingly, fingers brushing through my hair. He knew that this was what I needed. And, quite frankly, he needed it, too.

It took several minutes of silence until I felt like I could finally speak. And when I did it came out ragged and full of tears, "I'm so sorry Charles. I'm so sorry."

"Hey, hey, hey," he whispered, his lips pressing into my hair, "There's no need to apologise, it's okay, today is a hard day."

I still remembered my funeral speech, five years later.

I remember fiddling with my engagement ring as I spoke, "Sometimes in life there are losses. Losses that can never really be replaced. Losing you has been the hardest thing I've ever had to live with. I wasn't ready to say goodbye. I wasn't ready to let you leave. I would give anything for just one more day, just one more second. But I've learned to trust in unconditional love. Because the one profound thing about death is that love never dies. Some bonds cannot be broken. Because even though you're not physically here, your heart is - it lives on within me. I carry your heart inside mine. I carry it on days when I discover something new. I carry it on days when beauty unfolds in the most unexpected places. I carry it on days when I find courage to heal and to grow. I carry It with me - always. Someday we will meet again - and we will no longer be separated by time or space. But until that day, I'll find comfort in knowing that you are still with me. Your heart safely tucked inside mine. Some hearts just belong together and nothing will ever change that. I loved you then. I love you now. Always did. Always will.Forever my mind. Forever in my heart. I will carry you. "

"I'm sorry- you shouldn't have to comfort me," I told him, wiping my eyes "You're hurting too, I'm so rude, I'm horrible."

"You know Juliette," he ran his hand through my hair comfortingly, "You bring out the best in me, I don't mean in manners, or a sense of maturity or whatever else anyone expects of me. I mean, you make me want to climb roofs, run wild, act inappropriately, take risks, pursue my dreams with passion and integrity. Around you I start living."

I sighed "So?"

He shook his head, "You make me feel alive, I know you made Pierre feel this way too. He used to talk to me about you constantly, the day that he met you he started living. In the short life that he had he was so fucking happy, because of you. You were his life, you shouldn't feel sad but happy that you made the time he had on earth good."

What I wouldn't do to talk to him again.

I shook my head thinking back "I just wish he never got in the damn car that day, I wish he'd just stay at home with me and we'd get married, he'd have met his daughter."

Pierre was in a coma from November third up until January twenty seventh.

I found out I was pregnant in the December.

Oh Pierre, she looks like you. She acts like you. She reminds me of your younger self yet she is so unique. She is much smarter than you or I will ever be. She's strong. She is all the best parts of you and still very much more. She is herself and she is beautiful. Our baby girl is four.

Charles was so comforting despite I knew how hard his death was for him as well, we were both messes at the funeral. Charles would show up at our apartment practically every day to hang out with Pierre, "I know beautiful."

I put my hands over my face, admitting to him the truth "I feel bad... sitting here with you and telling you about the life I wanted. That I wanted to be married to someone else, have forever with someone else."

He removed my hands, placing them on his chest, one over his heart, "Don't feel bad, we both know if he was still here today that life wouldn't be like this. We wouldn't be here right now. But, he isn't here anymore and it's okay to grieve, so please go ahead and grieve," he paused, "Don't think of me as your boyfriend right now, think of me as a friend."

I sighed, confessing even more "I sometimes wonder what he would think about us, I don't know if I'm lying to myself when I say that he'd want us together." I looked down avoiding his eyes "Nobody wants their best friend and partner together, do they?"

Charles sighed also, his hands firm on my waist as he spoke "I suppose they don't but he always made me promise that I'd look after you, even when he was alive he made me promise and I think I'm fulfilling it. He would want us to both be happy, are you happy?"

I nodded.

He smiled, a wide smile at me to really show it "You and Camila are my happiness, but if you're not ready to be with me or you're having doubts, take however much time you need. I'll wait."

For some reason his words sent a fresh ache through my chest "Why?"

He simply smiled, "Because you're it for me. Whether it's today, tomorrow, a year, decades from now, that'll never change."

"There's no need, I love you Charles."