38. Not Mine

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How many things by Sabrina Carpenter

Everything feels like a stab in my chest.

Maybe it's from how exhausted I am after staying up all night with Charles. Or maybe it's just that every single thing in my life reminds me of him. The suitcase which I have to trail along behind me on the way from the lift to the door of the apartment, I know if Charles were here he'd take it for me. The bracelet with the '16' on which catches the light every single time I move my hand - I think for the rest of my life I'll only ever think of Charles when I see the number. The very frame of my apartment door which Charles would often present himself slumped against only reminds me of him. Of Charles.

Charles who is no longer mine.

The key in my hand trembles at the realisation as I twist it into the lock, the door falling open. Last night was horrific. I'm exhausted and over emotional and most significantly...alone. The thought makes my chest heave.

Usually at this point I'd text Charles to let him I'm home and safe. In return he usually sends me a smile and a message, something along the lines of how he loves me. Maybe even a like about our next plans or a selfie of his current location. I can't do that now, I don't get that in return now. Not now that there's no Charles in my life.

He's not mine; the reminder flashes up in my mind under floodlights that are blinding.

My phone feels completely redundant without him there on the other side to message. I find myself wondering if Charles feels the same way. I wish I could ask him. I can't. This morning we promised to give each other a little space. Time to let the sting simmer out of our chests (even if I'm not convinced it ever will). Time to consider this decision and to let Charles focus on where he needs to focus. It feels like a necessary evil and despite it being my idea I hate it.

"Hey! You're back early." Maddie's voice tears through my stare. It takes a second until I can bring myself to look away from the phone screen which still displays a picture of Charles and I. It's from our Christmas in Italy. We're bundled together in our ski jackets, Charles in his red one and I in my white and grey one, in my insistence to take a selfie he pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead to quiet me. The photo was one out of a long series, in others Charles was grinning just as wide as me or arguing over how his hair looked before his arms locked around me tightly. Still, this one was my favourite, relaxed loving Charles is always going to be my favourite - was my favourite. Thinking about Charles in the past tense makes my lip wobble. I slap the phone down on the counter before I can think of it any more. I'll have to change the background now

There's an image of Amber, Maddie and I from last year which could replace the Lock Screen with. It won't look nearly as good- it won't have him.

"I thought someone was breaking in for a second." Maddie huffs, combing her fingers through the ends of her hair. For extra effect she presses a panicked hand to her chest. I don't really react to her cheery words, I don't have much in me to give anymore.

"And here you are, so prepared to confront whoever is breaking in." I counter dryly, gesturing to the baby pink and turquoise Aristocats-theme'd mug in her hands. I'd bought her the thing from the Disney store for her birthday last year, or maybe it was the year before... It's hardly a baseball bat or anything which would deter someone potentially pushing their way inside. Maddie just snorts at my observation placing the mug down as she flicks on our kettle.

"Well I thought my bed hair might be enough to scare them away." Her joke is helped by her fingers which have continued to run her fingers through her short black hair as she reaches for the tub of instant coffee from the cupboard. It looks perfect as always. "Plus, some people aren't cat people." Is all she muses, gesturing to the Disney inspired mug infront of her. Maddie's words come with a pointed stare aimed at me. It's a long and never ending discussion between us, Maddie even attempted to bring home a kitten once. 'A flat pet' she sold it as until I glared at her and refused to help take care of the animal. And for the first time in twelve hours, has a smile cracking onto my features. It's not that I don't like cats, I've just always been brought up around dogs. There's no point telling Maddie this, she already knows, she'll wave me away half heartedly with a roll of her eyes and a huff. The very idea of it makes me choke out a laugh.

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