Chapter 24

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when charlotte woke up, the bed was cold. she turned around, thinking of mattheo, but the bed was empty. with a sigh, she got up and walked to her closet. she got dressed quickly. she wore a light blue dress, and white sandals, one of mattheos favorite dresses. she walked to the kitchen, and found it all empty. all the dishes, the stools, the bouquets he had bought her. they were all gone. the living room was empty too, as was all the other rooms in the house. mattheo was gone, and he had taken all the memories they made with him. he had taken it all. she had no idea why, or when, but everything was gone, and somehow, she knew he did it.

charlotte walked down to the guest house where esmeralda lived. she was gone too. she didn't know what to do. she needed to find out what happened, why mattheo left, but she couldn't bring herself to leave the house. over the summer here, it had become her home, a place she never wanted to leave, a place where she imagined her life with mattheo, and now he was forcing her to go. why? why would he do that to her? it felt like it took hours for her to go back to their room.
that, he kept the same. charlotte couldn't understand why he would leave their room of all places untouched, but at least he left her something. she packed a bag, a small one, cause everything she had brought and bought here belonged in this house, on the cliffs and by the sea. she couldn't bear to wear them anywhere else. sometimes things belong to a place, and these things belonged in france.

Riddle Manor was a stark contrast to the private estate in france, but she basked in its familiarities all the same. she loved walking the empty halls and remembering all her memories in them, the stairs mattheo carried her up her first night here, the pool they kissed in, the garden where he asked her to be his. the manor was swarmed with memories. but mattheo was nowhere to be found.  when the sun set, charlotte layed on the coach in the sitting room. she was tired, dreadfully so, but she knew she couldn't sleep alone in their bed. it was for them, not just her. she curled around herself, balling beneath her heavy blanket. it was a blanket used in winter, but without mattheos warm body beside hers, it was practically hypothermic.

the air was getting colder, it was something charlotte couldn't stop. august was slipping away,  and mattheo was going with it. she knew that if it was time, there was nothing she could do to hold them together, and maybe, at a time, the thought would have made her sad, would have devastated her, but all she felt was mad. she was mad at mattheo was leaving, for taking everything they had with him. she was mad he didn't explain, mad he didn't leave a note. august was just a moment of time now, a time where she was in love, a time where they were so, so happy, but all good times end, and charlotte thought that maybe she knew the end of this.

a warm hand pressed into her shoulder, warmer than anything she'd felt all day. a warmth only mattheo carried.

"hello charlotte," he said in a quiet tone, a guilty tone. she narrowed her eyes.
"hello" she says, but unlike his, her tone is one of anger.
"did you get home okay?" he asked, and her anger grew.
"no," she hissed, "i did not get home okay after you left me alone in france and took all of our stuff with you."
"it wasn't like that," he tried to reason, but charlotte, a girl who prided herself on being quite forgiving, wouldn't bring herself to try and understand.
"i don't care." she said flatly.
"then i'm not gonna take the time and try and justify this to you." mattheo said angrily.
"why are you mad?" charlotte asked judgement. she didn't understand what was happening, why it was happening, or how to fix it, and it was insufferable.
mattheo sighed loudly, glaring at her sharply, "because i can't deal with you when you're like this."
"no," charlotte said, "i can't deal with you, mattheo. you're the one always causing us problems and it's always me having to solve them."
"then don't solve them." he stated.
"what, and let our relationship just be shitty all the time?" she sighed.
"this is getting so old charlotte." he said quietly.
"what?" she hissed, "having to deal with your actions?"
"just stop," he sighed, "just go home charlotte."
"no." she said sharply.
"i want you to leave."
"and i'm saying no."
"charlotte," mattheo said, "i need you to go away."

charlotte knew that if she stayed in that house with him, they would never be okay again. if she didn't do what he asked, they would never be in love again. charlotte turned away from him, her eyes watering sharply, and walked away. she slammed the door behind her, feigning anger that had long since left her. how could he leave her? she kept wondering, but maybe the real question was, how could he have stayed? she walked away from his- their- house, and she took their memories with her. she never imagined they'd end up like this. it started to pour, heavy rain pounding on her shoulders. it was dark outside, her heart was broken. charlotte had the fleeting idea to return to france, to live in the house that she fell in love in, to swim in the ocean that felt like theirs, and eat on the cliffs they used to sit on, but she couldn't. france was a place for them, not her, and they were done. charlotte would never return to france again, not alone, not with anyone but him.

it was still raining when she apparated to wales. the rain sloshed on the ground she around her as she walked up the long, dirt driveway to the humble cottage she had called her home. she would never get away from him, she knew it. there was no scenario where she could live out her life the same way she did before she met him. mattheo riddle. she didn't know how they got here, how they would ever get back to how they were. she didn't know how to fix this, what to do or say, who to tell. she didn't know anything. she loved him so much, so painfully much, and they were just... done. charlotte sank to the muddy ground and let the rain drench her. august had passed, and their love had too. it felt like she would never get back what she had lost, and it was tearing her apart. he wasn't hers anymore, and yet she ached to know what he was doing, how he was feeling. she wanted to know if he remembered everything they did together, all the time they had spent being in love, all for it to be thrown away. she layed on the muddy, wet ground, and let the rain water mix with her tears.

𝐀𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭, ᵐᵃᵗᵗʰᵉᵒ ʳⁱᵈᵈˡᵉDove le storie prendono vita. Scoprilo ora