crashing quietly | c.l.

He wasn't supposed to be back until Monday.

But Sunday morning, something just—twisted.
A gut feeling. An itch in his chest. The way she hadn't texted back in two days. The way her last message didn't sound like her.

So he booked the first flight.
Didn't tell anyone.

When he walked into Soleil, the lights were off.

But she was there.

Sitting behind the counter. Hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands. Knees up. Staring at nothing.

She didn't look up when the bell chimed.

Only when he said, "Cara."

She jumped like she hadn't heard him come in.
Eyes wide. Like she got caught.

That's when he knew.

"You weren't supposed to be back yet."

"And you weren't supposed to be pretending you're okay."

Her jaw tightened.

"I'm fine."

"Stop saying that."

"Charles—"

"No. Talk to me. Right now."

He stepped around the counter.
She stood, too fast, and knocked the drawer slightly open.

It was instinct.
He saw her hand twitch.
His eyes went to the drawer.
And then—he opened it.

She didn't stop him.

Maybe because part of her wanted to be caught.

He pulled out the letter.
Read the first line.

His whole body changed.

"You've gotta be kidding me."

She didn't speak.
She watched the shift—the way his shoulders set, the way his jaw clenched so tight it looked like it hurt.

"He sent this?"
His voice was low.
Too calm.

She nodded.

"When?"

"Few days ago."

"And you didn't tell me?"

"You were racing."

"I'm always racing."

He slammed the letter on the counter.

"You think I wouldn't come back for this? You think I wouldn't—"

His voice broke.

She hated that most.

"You don't get to protect me from this. You don't have to."

She looked down.

"It's not about protecting you."

"Then what?"

"I didn't want to see that look on your face."

He laughed once. Sharp. Not amused.

"What, the look of someone who would do anything to keep him the hell away from you?"

She looked up.

"I'm not scared of him anymore."

"No. You're scared of letting someone help."

Silence.

"You're shutting me out, Cara."

"I'm trying to keep you."

That stunned him. Just for a second.

"I've lost people before," she said. "I know what happens when the past creeps in. It poisons things."

He stepped closer. Close enough to touch. But he didn't.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"You say that now."

"I've said it every time."

He picked up the letter. Tore it clean in half. Then again.

Her eyes widened.

"Charles—"

He dropped the pieces in the trash behind the bar.
His hands were still shaking.

"You don't need to carry his words anymore."

She didn't cry.
Didn't move.
She just looked at him like she wanted to believe that was true.

And he looked back like he already did.

_____

yeah i'm not really good at writing intense chapters...

i have to lock in now and study... wish me luck i have my exam tomorrow and i have not done ANYTHING yet.

comment and vote!! thank you all sO much!!
& love you all