"Are you fucking kidding me, James?!" I screamed feeling the tears burning my eyes. The hurt and anger I feel evident on my face. James takes his eyes off the road for a minute assessing me. Sighing he opens his mouth to say, "Charlie I didn't even initiate  that kiss, Chad did, I don't like him like that!"  "Bullshit, rwyt ti'n gelwyddog!" I scream in Welsh as James turns his attention back towards the road. "I'm not a liar!" He yells slapping the steering wheel. I guess his Welsh lessons paid off. I think as I flinch. 

"You're so full of shit," I muttered under my breath, wiping away the tears that wouldn't stop coming. I turned to look out the window, but the blur of the rain and the streetlights only made everything worse. My heart was pounding, blood rushing in my ears as I tried to push back the hurt.

James didn't say anything for a while, just kept his hands tight on the wheel, his knuckles white. The silence in the car felt suffocating. I wanted to scream again, but I didn't have the energy. I just felt... empty.

"Charlie," he said, his voice softer now, like he was trying to reach me, but his words made everything worse. "Je ne pensais pas. Je n'ai jamais voulu te faire de mal, Charlie."

His voice shook as he said it, and even though I didn't answer, I felt it—his sincerity. I turned away from him, but his words hung in the air, heavy like the weight of everything between us. I knew he wasn't lying. Not this time. But it didn't matter.

"Stop," I cut him off, my voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. "I don't want to hear it anymore."

The words came out before I could stop them, and they were like a slap to the face, echoing between us. It was like I couldn't breathe with the weight of them hanging in the air. "I can't... I can't do this."

I felt James's gaze shift towards me, and for a second, I almost thought he might actually get it. That maybe he'd understand the mess I was in, the mess we were in. But then he just tightened his grip on the steering wheel, knuckles going pale. "Charlie, please. I'm trying to explain—"

"I know what you're trying to do," I snapped, feeling my chest tighten. "But I can't just pretend like it's nothing. It's not nothing."

His voice dropped, like he was choosing his words carefully. "I didn't want it to happen. I swear to God, it was Chad, not me—"

"Then why the hell didn't you stop him?" I nearly screamed, my voice cracking. "Why didn't you tell him to fuck off right from the start?"

James ran a frustrated hand through his hair, but he didn't answer right away. I could feel him pulling away, and it made my chest ache, like there was a cold emptiness spreading between us.

"I... I didn't know what to do. I thought I could... I don't know," he said, his voice shaky now, like the walls between us were starting to crumble. "Je t'aime, tu sais ça, n'est-ce pas ?"

His words hit me harder than I expected. The French made everything feel more real, more raw. I could feel the sincerity in them, even if I didn't want to admit it. My heart twisted, but I stayed silent, my chest tightening, refusing to let him see how much it hurt.

"You're not a liar," I said after a beat, but even as I said it, I didn't believe it. Not fully. "But I can't pretend like this is okay."

"I'm sorry," James whispered, but it sounded empty, like he was saying it because he thought he had to. The sincerity didn't reach me anymore.

The car hummed softly against the road, the rain sloshing against the windows, and in that moment, I felt like we were both driving straight into a wall and neither of us was brave enough to stop.

I turned my head away again, staring blankly out the window, the world outside a blur of lights and water. The quiet between us was suffocating, like we were holding our breaths, waiting for something, anything, to break the silence.

Then it happened.

A flash of headlights. Bright, too bright. I didn't have time to process it before everything shattered—metal crunching, glass shattering, the world spinning violently around me.

Opening my eyes, I see James lying there, and my heart stops. Oh God, James... Is he okay? I try to reach out, desperate to touch his face, but my arms won't move. Why can't I move?

I feel the weight of everything crashing down. Oh my beautiful lover... I'm so fucking sorry, James. I swear, if we get another life to live, I'd love you better, believe you more. I'm so sorry it ended this way.

I close my eyes, the exhaustion too much to fight anymore. I'm so tired... The last thing I hear is the wail of sirens, but even that sounds  so far away, like I'm already drifting.