Chapter Text
"I just---still think it's really stupid. That we're doing this. Because we had so much in common."
That was the first time Zoey ever heard that sentence, as well as the last before she stepped away from Charlie's porch without saying anything and went to her car. If she wanted to, she could've turned around and change her mind.
The whole ride home was nothing but silent. No one to talk to, anyway. She intensely stared at the road ahead of her, lights blinking, sky dark. She thinks she feels a headache coming on, but she can worry about that when she actually gets home.
She wishes she didn't hear that.
It actually made her kind of angry that Charlie would say something like that, but no need to get angry over someone who didn't matter to you in the first place. They had just broken up---so what? Who cares? She certainly didn't. But Charlie didn't have to say that. He didn't have to add to it. He could've just said "Bye," or something.
Doesn't matter, it'll go away when she settles in for bed.
She thinks time passes quickly when she finally arrives home---it's your average apartment building, the kind with hallways and the often broken vending machines. It's a redundant sight she's seen one too many times, of course. She lives here. She steps inside---nothing changed at all.
Same old living room, same old kitchen, same old coat hanger and TV and couch and bedroom---she's seen it alot. But it's kind of cold in here, now. That's fine. She just needed to crank up the thermostat. And when that's done, she'll take a shower, because she's tired and she needs to sleep.
She sort of handles this the way she did when Charlie "died." She drives home in a quiet silence, goes home, takes a shower, go to sleep. She saves the mourning for later, because she's not exactly ready to do so right now. She thinks she's the toughest person in the world for not crying right away.
But then she steps into the shower.
It's warm, just the right temperature. She lets her hair down and allowed the water to do its work. As soon as it comes in contact with her skin, she feels a sense of comfort---one that won't last long. She thinks she can remember the last time she and Charlie showered together---intimate, but not uncomfortable. Charlie would talk about how nice she looked with her hair down, and she would smile and continue washing his back.
Fuck...she's never gonna do something like that again, is she?
Right now, it's only her, and she had no one's back to wash. She could handle taking a shower by herself, of course. But when it happened, it somehow felt...completely different. Like there was some kind of emptiness to it all. As comforting as the shower was---again, it doesn't last, and she's just standing in water now.
It wasn't the most unsatisfying shower in the world, but it's one that she hopes doesn't stick to her mind for the rest of the night, or at all. And for the remaining hours of the day, she doesn't really want to think about Charlie.
His rough yellow skin. His orange hoodie he doesn't care to wash. His ugly hat. His strands of hair that made him look like a ruined doll. His black pants and white shoes. His big, but charming nose. His beady and cute eyes. His pudgy and soft hands. His funny voice, his love for video games and food, his ability to get easily embarassed and sappy.
She hated a lot about him. Like him getting easily upset, or her having to treat him like she's his babysitter instead of an actual boyfriend. But she liked a lot about him too, like him showing signs of caring despite not being the type to exhibit his emotions properly. Zoey would be lying to herself if she said that she didn't share at least a few traits with him.
Which is why...
No. She can't be thinking about this right now. She needed to sleep.
She can't find herself drifting off until maybe a few hours later.
"So, how long will it be until he proposes to you?"
Is something that crosses her mind. She remembers it clearly---in the very few passing conversations she's had with a friend. She thinks that was a few years ago. They were both sitting at a local breakfast stop, and Zoey thinks she wore one of his jackets.
"He hasn't done it yet. Honestly, I'd be less surprised if I'm the one who ends up proposing to him instead."
The other girl, Jackie, laughs. "Well, you never know. Maybe he's hiding the surprise for a special occasion, y'know? You've been going at it for a year at this point."
"Wait...it's only been a year?"
What a cruel joke.
They've dated for three years, and Charlie hasn't proposed once---she also feels like she needs to curse at herself for not being the bold one, either. It feels like their relationship went downhill as they went by---in fact, she thinks that the last time they've properly went anywhere together for a date night was Mr. Boss' Christmas dinner.
Charlie was a bit of a manchild, yes. Especially when drunk. If you told Zoey what she was thinking when he told her not to touch him---she felt embarassed. Nothing else but embarassed. She dressed up for this dinner, and nicely too. Meanwhile, Charlie only showed up in his usual wear, as well as his other co-workers.
Dressed all pretty for him and shit and this is what he chooses to do. Fucking ridiculous.
She remembers thinking that when she was in the restrooms, looking at herself and attempting to calm herself. But it's when she looked into that mirror that she realized that maybe, this was her wake-up call.
After all, their relationship was hanging by a thread, and Zoey was the one who attempted to fix it---Charlie wasn't an asshole by any means, but she found it quite irritating that he never went out of his way to save the leftover bits of their relationship. Maybe...maybe that's why they fell apart.
Maybe she didn't do enough for him. That her "enough" wasn't enough. Like she had to do something more, and she failed to. She felt that she had done something wrong when Charlie told her that---a sentence she's never heard before, but feels like it's been told to her a dozen times. That no matter how in common they were, there truly was no fixing things. They were just two lonely people who just knew each other, went to each other's apartments at this point.
That wasn't the first time Zoey messed up. Nor was it Charlie's.
But it was the biggest mistake Zoey made in her entire life, she just kept it to herself.
She still showed up to work the next day and acted like nothing happened---though it was so painfully obvious something was wrong. Everyone still questioned her appearance, her tired expression, her...situation---all were met with the same answers:
"I'm okay, alright? Me and Charlie didn't split, we're just taking a break."
She knows she's only lying to herself, because like all break-ups do, this one didn't end pretty and enough for her to know that this was anything except a break.
"Zoey, I know how it feels. He wasn't worth your time, anyway."
She wishes she could agree, but Charlie was worth her time. He was worth most of it, anyway. He wasn't the best person in the world, but he meant a lot to her that nobody else has---ever, really. She wonders how things could've been---what should've been. If she gave enough to him.
It's no matter, right? Maybe things could be solved. Charlie would apologize to her, or she could apologize to him. Maybe, just maybe, she can salvage it. She can appear at his door again and say sorry and that she misses him. She knows she isn't that desperate, shouldn't be that desperate over someone who didn't care to return his own love sometimes. But Charlie was her world, in a way. And no one could ever replace it.
Finding herself a new man would be super difficult, not because she wasn't interested in finding one, but because she knows that none of them will ever be like Charlie.
"I'm sorry," She says, as if her feelings were invalid more than his. "I'm a grown woman almost in my 30's. We can't continue if we're gonna keep being like this." She stands in the doorway, wearing her red hoodie, and her hair is in a messy ponytail. She looks tired, and a bit angry. Charlie just looks at her with a sincere look.
And then he says it.
That couldn't have meant that he wanted to break up with her permanently. I mean, she left without saying a word. Maybe Charlie thinks she's saving her response for tomorrow---like it's something she wants to say to his face, rather than over text. It basically left on an open note, and she doesn't remember Charlie saying goodbye to her. Or good luck to her.
A few days is still a lot of time to process things, though. It went from Zoey being angry and a bit devastated to her just havihg to resort to denial---admittedly, something she didn't need to feel at this age. She tells her parents that she and Charlie are still together, just on break, and she didn't cry once. She tells her friends that she and Charlie just needed space, but they all, as much as she does, know it's a lie.
Besides, she thinks that crying over stuff like this is stupid and childish. There are more people in the world going through worse stuff, why mourn over some guy who probably won't even do the same? Maybe there are some days worse than others, but she couldn't let a split affect her this much as it should. She had a job, and more important stuff to do in her life, and well, you can't let one singular break-up get you down like this.
So, Zoey doesn't cry, and chooses to become more productive with her work instead. It was a struggle not to cry, but she managed to keep to herself anyway. Even at the bar that she usually hung out at with friends, she didn't mention it once. She felt she was doing great! That the more she bottled them up, she was no longer pretending to be happy. She was just happy. That's all she needed to be, right now.
Up until one of her friends mention the doomed sentence.
"Yeah, I heard that Charlie's seeing someone else, now. I think it's someone he knew from work."
Zoey's facial expression doesn't exactly match with how much hearing the words actually felt like a thousand knives plunging into her skin. Someone he knew from work. It's kind of scary---that she knows exactly who that someone is.