A Blind Fall

chapter thirty four

She threw her head back and laughed as her hand swatted his shoulder playfully. They were on set as the shooting of the movie had already began and this was their hour long break. It was usually around 12:30 and 1:30, a pattern Oscar had observed from spying on them for an entire week. Officially, he was stalking Gabrielle and as shameful as that might have been, he had no intention of stopping any time soon.

Reason was because she had refused an audience with him and his attempts to visit her at the Gregorys had proved futile. He needed to talk to her more than he needed air to breathe, which beat logic considering how discourteous and inconsiderate  she'd been with her exit from his life. And then to see her again so unexpectedly all tactile and comfortable with that movie director was wretching his heart.

The last seven days he'd spent watching them had to be the most excruciating of his life. And although he'd witnessed how professional the man was while working and what a good work ethic he had, his knuckles itched to plant themselves across his Frenchman jaw for earning her laughter and being the one to see her eyes dance with glee. Oscar wanted to throw caution to the wind and ram his jeep right into the man but what good would it do him if she despised him for murdering her lover?

Her lover. His head fell at the thought of André taking Gabrielle to bed, being pillowed by her flesh whenever he pleased. The thought alone drove Oscar senile. Because as misogynistic as he sounded, Gabrielle was his and his alone. Her body was his to please and not that movie maker that he regretted no smashing the night of their party.

His eyes closed, memories of the feel of her velvety skin under his fingers haunted him. The taste of her rose-tinged, plump lips and their delectable softness was so fresh in his tongue as if he'd memorized it all. Her soft moans and sighs of ecstasy, the way her body writhed under his as he made her his woman. It mattered not that she'd moved on because Oscar hadn't and spending anymore of his life without her was a death sentence. He had to make her see reason as he was convinced she couldn't have forgotten completely how special it was with him. How beautiful they were. Whatever it was that made her run from him was so meaningless as compared to all the happiness they had brought each other.

For goodness sake the woman loved him as much as he adored her. He was convinced because Gabrielle wasn't the type to spread her legs without emotions like Erica. She was nothing like the woman he'd ruefully used to try and flush Gabrielle from his system where the alcohol would fail. He was beyond miserable and was even having breathing difficulties at the prospect of learning he'd lost her forever. He wasn't exactly being a man as per his father's books by mopping around and skirting a woman like this but it couldn't be helped. One couldn't live without oxygen.

He was still in a sea-full of thoughts when a harsh rap came from the passenger's side window. Yanking his head up from the steering wheel where he'd rested it his tear-glistened eyes blinked to search for the intruder. He was probably trespassing and someone had called the police on him. Looking back at where he'd seen the duo standing engaging a happy conversation, it turned out empty but a few cast and crew dashing back to set. The rap went again and he pressed a button that lowered the tinted car window.

"What are you doing here?" The person he was yet to face demanded rather unpleased.

His breath hitched and his lungs deflated so painfully, he had to heave a deep breath. Without thinking or hesitating he pushed the driver's door open and raced to the other side. "Gabrielle," it came out so softly he barely heard himself. "My love,  Gabrielle." He reached out to touch her but she recoiled.

Her face was void of emotions when she reiterated impatiently. "What are you doing here?"

"Please let's talk." He pleaded still attempting to touch her but she ducked his hand. "You're killing me, can't you see?"

She swallowed hard as her eyes took in his raggedy form. He knew he looked a mess but he hadn't anticipated seeing her. Then he would have groomed himself -at least shave and brush his hair- so she didn't think he was a loser and wasn't compelled to stand his unsightly appearance. Her gaze softened and her lips moved as if to say something but she bit so hard on the lower lip and looked away.

In a flat tone, she said, "André wanted to call the police because you are scaring everyone whose noticed your... habits." He knew she was avoiding saying that he was stalking her. "You should leave and stop coming here."

He'd grovel and beg if he had to. "I'm begging you, sweet doll_"

"Don't call me that!" It was said with such conviction he found himself stepping back. She must have realized her mishap as she added. "You shouldn't be calling me that."

He nodded slowly in understanding. It wouldn't do for her lover to hear him refer to her with such endearments. "Fine. But please let's talk."

Her mouth opened and closed without a word, her eyes suddenly finding interest in her orange wedges. It was momentarily silent before she spoke. "I, I'm not sure we have anything to talk about."

For some reason that made him snap. "Really?" Pinching the bridge of his nose frustratedly, his voice piqued. "How about why you made me fall in love with you and took off without the courtesy of an explanation?! How about what you're doing with another man when you'd made love to my very soul, Gabrielle!" Without willing to, he grabbed her arm violently. "Tell me! Is that enough to talk about?"

It was her tears that brought him back from his anger trip. He released her arm and cupped her wet cheeks. "I'm sorry," he babbled desperately. "Forgive me my love," his forehead attached to hers, he whispered weakly. "My sweet doll."

Unsuredly, she pressed into him,  closer until her head was resting on his chest. Her hesitant arms came up to embrace him, the loud thud of his heart increasingly unhealthy. Pressing a kiss onto her forehead, he hugged her tighter, savouring every second of her body in his arms. He knew he was crazed in his actions but having her there brought into him an inner peace that one only got from a spiritual fulfilment. In that moment, as he stood there burying his nose in her hair inhaling her strawberry shampoo, he recommitted to his religion.

But as she pulled away and rose those big brown eyes to him, he was keen to let her go not intending to frighten her. He wanted to be tough but he couldn't help the moisture pooling in his eyes. "I didn't mean to hurt you." His gaze was on the red imprint of his fingers on her skin.

She smiled, not the delightful kind that contested with the sun, but a slight smile that barely reached her eyes. One that made him curse himself for casting a sad shadow upon her. "It's nothing."

"And I didn't mean to intrude your place of work. I know this must be huge for you." He simply wanted to talk to her as long as she could stand him.

She nodded. "But I'm not doing much. Just helping André bring every setting scripted to reality. Like it was intended by the author."

André. That name made his blood boil and his temper flare but he kept his cool. He'd done enough in a day to pass for a degenerate. "I'm proud of you." He complimented instead.

"I can't say the same about you though," he knew she was referring to his appearance. With his faded, blue jeans, creased grey t-shirt and unkempt stubble, he not only acted but looked unhinged. "You've been drinking."

He swallowed then, quickly turning his face away so that she wasn't staring into his bloodshot eyes. Compared to that, that, André, whose outfit for the day was a pressed, navy blue, collared Polo t-shirt tucked neatly into maroon khaki shorts and with that styled hair, Oscar seemed to have crawled out of a sewer. "I, I," he couldn't explain himself despite having a good reason to neglect himself.

"I have to get back to work. My break hour is over," she announced as his heart sunk in disappointment. However his eyes sparkled when she added, "You can explain over dinner."

When her back retreated as she walked back to the others, his grin matched his strides as he raced to the driver's seat.

***
From delays, to writers block, tight schedule and basically every other challenge I've faced while writing this book, I can say we have a few chapters to go.

I really I'm grateful for sticking around and the votes and comments. I love them because they can be so motivating especially when I'm just too lazy, tired or bored to lift a finger on my keypad.

Thanks people and keep them coming. 💕❤