Forgetting The Love of Your Life

Chapter Thirty-Four: Guilt and Resentment

y/n's PoV:

You meant it when you said you wanted a quiet evening with him – You truly did. He's been nothing but generous, caring and most of all, patient. And here you are, running out on him again, like a moron.

It's fight or flight though. How else can you describe it?

It was between exploding all over his – no, your – bathroom walls, or leaving the place for a moment. The cold evening air on the street meets you with a calming effect, but you continue rushing up the street. The fear keeps rattling through your chest and stomach, the guilt keeps pooling in your throat, making it hard to swallow and your legs feel weaker by the second.

After a good twenty minutes of just walking, with no particular goal in mind, or direction, you drop down onto a bench. It's slightly elevated, encompassed by trees, making it look like a cove of sorts. It oversees most of the city. The coast is in eyesight, the sun is slowly setting and small lights are turning on throughout the city. Peace settles in.

The lights resemble sparkles – Just like the flashes when you used to pass by crowds with Max. The glittery reflections would rain down on the two of you, regardless of where you were, practically pausing time. You lean back your head, trying to forget Max for now, focussing on Charles.

And your home.

And your kitchen.

And your pantry cabinets.

Being a stranger. That's the closest to how it feels. Imagine being dropped into an unfamiliar life, with an unfamiliar home, and with a man, who's supposedly yours, and you have no recollection of any of it – Or at least most. The groceries showed you that you remembered something again.

The pulsating guilt collects in your throat again. Fleeing truly felt like the only option in that second, it was that or combusting into thin air.

Maybe that should've happened in the car crash– WHOA. Hell no. Stop all of that. Jesus Christ. Fuck, fuck, FUCK.

y/n whispers: Okay, reset.

No more pathetic 'dying would've been easier' thoughts. That's messed up. A revolting vibe spreads through your body. This isn't it. It's not going to be like that. You trying thinking happy thoughts.

Happy. Happy. Happy. Uhhhh...

First race win. That's happy. The high of that didn't wear off until a week later.

Or... Drinks with your friends – Family hang outs – Uhh... Vacations – Good food – Uhhh...

A deep sigh escapes. Fuck, what are you doing on this bench?

You rub your hands over your face, grunting softly when you hit a tender spot. This isn't productive, helpful or anything for that matter. It's highly useless. You push yourself up.

y/n: Okay.

You need to go. The wind turns, slowly guiding you back to the apartment complex. It takes longer than before. The adrenaline rush definitely made you speed up, regardless of the street going up-hill and you being frantically disoriented.

Charles' PoV:

The doorbell buzzes, and you jump up. After a couple of seconds, she enters the apartment, with her head hanging low. Thank god. So, no Max. Thank God. You sigh softly.

y/n whispers: I'm sorry–

She swipes off her shoes, slowly walking away from you, and into the living room. Your feet are anchored into the ground. You're simply speechless. Here you were convinced she would run back to Max, right into his arms to seek comfort from what you had inflicted on her, and instead she was gone for an hour, and now she's back... Apologising for leaving.

The balcony door clicks – You snap out of your paralysed state, stepping towards the living room. Y/n takes a seat on one of the balcony chairs. She pulls her legs up to her chest, while looking out to the ocean. She nearly seems peaceful like that.

What do you even do now? Go to her? Leave her alone?

You simply don't know, but choosing the latter seems appropriate, especially if she just ran out on you, and nearly freaked out at the notion of your touch on her skin.

You had put the rest of the groceries away while she was gone. You lean on the empty counter, resting your head in your hands. And you also called her Doctor. Like some sneaky bastard, ratting out the person you're supposed to protect. Fuck.

Of course all he did was assure you that this will happen sometimes, and that she's taking in a lot right now, so that her fleeing response was natural and instinctual... Of course she is overwhelmed, you didn't need a Doctor to tell you that...

After some pondering you decide you'll leave her alone for the rest of the night.

She deserves the quiet, and you need to process your guilt and resentment.

You love her, but this is draining you right now. Fuck man.

-04:37-

You jump up, nearly flinging yourself off the couch – The dream felt too real. Just the stark contrast from now to a few weeks ago, even in dream-form, is haunting you. The clock on the wall informs you of the time. Jeez.

The two of you were sitting in a restaurant, her hand placed on top of yours, while you ordered for the both of you. It was followed with laughter, tenderness, and loving glances... Later the two of you were cuddled up in bed after a round of slow, passionate sex. Her hair was combed to the side, while her face was resting on your chest.

You practically felt her warm breath against your skin – Only to wake up to reality on the couch, an entire hallway apart from her and her calming breath.

That was all. That was the entirety of the dream. The intimacy truly pushed you over the edge, not the act or the date itself. She seemed so comfortable, safe and happy by your side in the dream... It was enough to wake you up. 

You push yourself up to grab some water.

How will she fall in love with you again, if she doesn't ever remember anything? Or she doesn't want to...?

Great. You thank your own brain. That's also going to haunt you now.