Missing From Me

25| éclair

Julien's POV

I sit still in the driveway, not having let go of the steering wheel just yet.

Relax. It's fine. Everything is going to be fine.

I force myself to release the tension in my shoulders but feel it overtake me again as soon as I slump in the seat. Five minutes. I'll go inside in five.

To preoccupy my thoughts I look around Amaltheia's car. It smells like her. There's a tinge of her floral perfume in the air and an overall scent of something fruity and refreshing in a muted way. It's not too sweet but it's not vibrant either.

I notice polaroid photos attached to a strip of intertwined cerulean thread hanging from the car mirror. There are three; the first is of her and her friend Noor. Noor is staring straight ahead with a deadpan face and Amaltheia is looking at her, smiling wide. Her hair is super curly and much shorter than it is now.

08/03/19 – happy birthday noor

Two years ago. Her face does look more youthful. The second picture is one of two kids, a little girl and a slightly older-looking boy. I squint at the picture. Does Amaltheia have siblings? An older brother maybe.

The last picture is one of an older couple–probably her parents. It's been taken in the middle of a dance. They both look very young. I flip it over to check if there's a date and see 1998.

I wonder what the second one's date is but instead of finding one, I see another picture. This one is a teenage Amaltheia. She's lying on a bed stomach-down, cupping a boy's cheek in the form of a hug. Her hair is straightened and even shorter, reaching till only her chin.

The boy smiles the barest. He wears small hoops in his ears and his blond hair is messy. Yet he looks oddly at peace with his hand resting on her elbow. I wonder if it's a show of affection. But Amaltheia looks completely happy. Happier than I've ever seen her.

With a final look, I let go of the polaroid pictures, feeling a little ashamed I invaded her privacy like that. I wouldn't be here if I just had my own car.

I recall our last conversation and a pang of guilt for snapping at her causes my stomach to dip. I couldn't say yes. Because yes to her driving me home would entail a lot more I'm not ready for. I'm not sure if I want her to know it.

Pulling the car handle, I step out and lock the car. I've just gotten to the porch when the door opens and Maman smiles wides at me.

"Joyeux anniversaire, mon chou."

[Translation: Happy birthday, my cabbage (a french endearment lol)]

"Thank you, Maman."

I hug her and she squeezes me tight. The smell of her and her perfume wafts up to my nose and I breathe it in.

She lets me go and frowns, "Why are you so late? It's almost 7."

"I'm sorry," I apologize and kiss her cheek.

She starts to smile again and exclaims, "My baby's 20."

I lightly scoff but my smile drops when I see someone walk into view. My stomach coils, dread filling me up from head to toe. How the fuck is he here?

"Hey Jules," Sebastien grins.

I'm unable to respond, still not quite sure he's even in front of me. He walks towards me and claps my back before withdrawing.

"What? I don't even get a hello?" he attempts to tease.

I stare at him. He looks different. He's grown out his hair and has streaks of a lighter blond running through the strands. But at the same time no matter how much his physical appearance might have changed, he also looks the same. And I don't know how he could be.