Charles Is gone

Chapter 003

Zara's POV

Charles was laid on the ground at the center of his room. My pulse drums crazily as I ran to him.

“Charles,” I shouted as I wrapped him around my arms. His body was cold as though he had been brought out of a fridge.

My trembling fingers pressed desperately against the cold hand of Charles, searching in vain for a pulse that wasn’t there. No! Maybe I could feel it because I didn't know where it was located.

I began shivering, my heart tightened, I couldn't breathe properly.

I stretched and grabbed my handbag. I wiped out my phone and dialed Robert's number. He answered on the first ring.

“Robert, please call the ambulance, my son is not moving, I think he has fainted,” I said, still not wanting to believe that he was dead.

After a few minutes, the ambulance rushed into Charles' room where I was seated, and Charles wrapped around my arms.

“Please, nurses do something,” I said as tears streamed down my cheeks.

If Charles dies, I won't be able to forgive myself. I can't live without him.

“Let's give them some space,” Robert said as he walked me out of the room.

I walked back and forth around the hallway as I tried not to lose hope.

After a few minutes, which seemed like an hour, the nurse opened the door.

“I'm so sorry, Mrs Armstrong. Unfortunately, we lost him, he died a couple of hours ago,” he said softly.

I expected the nurse's words, but I wasn't expecting the amount of pain in my chest.

I rushed inside the room and Charles was already covered from head to toe. I walked to him and lifted the sheet. I looked at his handsome face and closed eyes.

Face that I would never see in my life again. A horrible, painful pang struck through my chest.

“I'm so sorry sweetheart,” I whispered as tears streamed down my face.

I gave him my last peck on the forehead before covering his head.

I wish I was the one taken instead of Charles. I wish I could reverse time so that I would make things right. I wish I never left him alone at home.

I held his cold hands with my shaky hands as my tears rolled harder.

I heard footsteps and the door opened. I already knew who it was without looking back. It was Armstrong.

I felt a hand drop on my shoulders which sent shivers down my spine.

I turned back, and my eyes pinned his. His eyes were already looking panicked.

“I'm so…”

I slapped his hand off my shoulder before he could complete his statement. His wince of shock gave me immense satisfaction.

“He is my son too,” he whispered as tears rolled down his face.

“Your son?” I sniffed.

“And you let him die? You are a horrible father and husband, you bastard,” I spat.

Armstrong stared at me as his eyes widened in shock and disbelief. I never spoke while Armstrong spoke, let alone raise a voice at him, until today.

The love and respect I had for him vanished from my heart yesterday when he got me arrested.

“Just calm down, Zara, I know you are grieving, but he is still your husband,” Robert said.

“My husband? No! Not anymore! I can't call him my husband,” I chuckled angrily.

I took a bold step towards Armstrong, my heart filled with anger and hatred.

“You should celebrate, the cake is on the dining table, go carry it and take it to your bitch. You should all celebrate that Charles is fucking dead,” I said, angrily.

Armstrong rolled his eyes in annoyance as he stretched his hand to touch Charles. I slapped his hand away.

“Don't you fucking come close to my son?”

“Look enough at this drama. He is my son, and I'm your husband, so mind the way you speak to me,” he said authoritatively.

“Ahh, did you just say drama? Huh?” I questioned, bitterly. I gritted my teeth.

Armstrong's phone began to ring and, without thinking twice, he picked it up.

“Hello Vicky, how are you feeling now?”

“Alright, I'll be on my way,” he said before ending the call.

Hearing him talk to Victoria like nothing had happened made my heart explode. He even had the guts to pick her call in my presence. I narrowed my eyes in annoyance.

Armstrong let out a heavy sigh before walking away.

“We will take the corpse to the hospital and examine the body to say what caused his death,” a nurse said.

I nodded before breaking down. The pain was unbearable. Robert wrapped me in his arms and whispered comforting words to me. But none seemed to move me an inch.

Charles' body was taken downstairs as well and followed behind. Charles' birthday decorations were all over the living room and his birthday cake was still laid on the dining table, untouched. With one last glance at the decorations, we walked out of the house.

I watched as Charles's body was respectfully placed on the stretcher of the ambulance before the door was closed.

Robert walked me to his car, opened the back door and gestured me in. Robert got behind the wheel as we all drove to the hospital.

Victoria was responsible for my little boy's death. But it wasn't her fault, and it wasn't Armstrong's fault either. It was my fault.

I should blame myself for leaving Charles alone at home.

My phone rang twice, but I was too consumed with grief to see who it was.

“You should answer it, it might be something important,” Robert suggested.

I swallowed the painful lump in my throat as I glanced at the screen to see who that was.

‘Mi Amour’ it was Armstrong. I had nothing to tell him even if I picked his call. I was done with him.

I slid into his message and texted.

‘Don't call me again. I have nothing to talk to you about. We are done! And I'll process our divorce papers and send them to your office tomorrow.’