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“Please, Charles, you cannot say you do not feel it too,” Carlos insisted, in a moment of pure desperation. A man with nothing left to lose and seconds away from being on his knees.
Months had led to this very moment, their friendship deepening into something rarer, a forbidden sort of love because on the outside it looks wrong.
Charles’ jaw tightened as his eyes brimmed with tears, “I am married now, things have to change.”
“But, te amo…” Carlos tried, his speech hindered by a break in his voice, “I love you.” His shoulders sagged, as if the weight of love and heartache hung from his knuckles.
Charles’ eyes darted about the deserted car park they had claimed as their space. He was always watching for people who might see them, hear them, put them all over social media before they had a moment to work out a cover story.
Carlos’ eyes narrowed slightly as he watched Charles’ paranoia rear its head again. “I do not care who hears, I say this because it is true,” Carlos declared, reaching towards Charles’ face with fingertips that had graced every part of Charles’ body. His thumb traced Charles’ cheekbone, Charles leaning into the touch despite himself.
“It is why we must stop,” Charles whispered, lashes damp as he kept his eyes downcast, staring at the gravel that had witnessed countless meetings before this. “We said no strings, that we would accept the ending when it came.” He pulled his face away from Carlos’ touch, head turning to the opposite side in an attempt to escape the warmth that had held him on cold nights.
Nights when they could be alone, hot breath steaming the car windows until they were both sticky in the humid air, legs cramping from awkward positions in the backseat of a car.
At least leather can be wiped clean.
The same could not be said of the weight of Charles’ head against Carlos’ chest, the texture of Carlos’ hair beneath Charles' fingers.
The fullness of Carlos’ lips as Charles’ tongue sought entrance that was granted with the smallest of gasps.
The memories of those things would stick to their ribs until they were but ghosts haunting tracks they knew by heart.
“So you are just going to walk away from me?” Carlos finally withdrew his hand from Charles' face, instead crossing his arms over his body, protecting himself, as if he thought his heart would not be ripped from his chest if he held himself tight enough.
Charles huffed, a weak sound. “Non, mon amour, I will see you every race weekend.” Charles didn't add that he thought that would be worse than never seeing Carlos again, that the brief glances he would allow himself would wrench open a wound that would never heal. Every single time.
Charles had no more to say, lingering would help no one. With a last look at Carlos, blurry beyond his tears, he grabbed the door handle and opened it, stepping into his car while he still had control of his limbs. Ignition on and headlights casting long shadows he reversed, not looking back as he left Carlos in the dust of a place that would some day witness another love.
Charles hoped their echoes would be more lucky than they had been. Their fates more destined, their love less painful.
Carlos watched until the burning red of the taillights faded. Only then did he allow himself to break, to slide down the side of his car, a crumpled ruin.
It was almost poetic, the way the rain started to fall just as his tears did, water from the heavens dirtying the gravel and creating little pockets and streams, like it was washing away the sins it had borne witness to, trapping the small moments that Carlos would replay in his mind when the world was dark and he was alone in bed.
In the darkness of the car park, the only noise was the soft splattering of rain, and Carlos’ heart breaking so violently it ripped from his throat in gasps and heaves.
In the darkness, Carlos wept alone.