The following morning , she packed all her stuff and that's where the argument broke off. She accused me of cheating and despite all my honest explanations, she couldn't listen to me. I tried to approach her on many occasions, asking for forgiveness but she was not willing to listen. That's how my relationship which was very sweet got to ashes.
Coincidentally,.as I pull up in front of their gate, a minibus drops off Rose. This is too much of a coincidence. I see Rose's shocked expression when she realizes that it is my car in front of their house. She ignores it and walks to the gate and I just can't believe how unconcerned she is. I expected her to at least approach me and ask why am here. At least hearing her voice would do good as it would help initiate a talk. Unconscious of the rain pouring down, I move out of the car and approach her . I pull her hand to cause her attention to me.
" Rose please," I say softly.
" Have you gone crazy, Carloy?" She asks angrily, jerking my arm off her.
" Rose, please don't push me away," I say, wiping the rain water from my face.
" I think you're out of your mind, Carloy."
" Am not, that's where you're always mistaken."
" Yes, you e. Can't you see that you are getting all wet.," she says looking at me under her umbrella.
Her statement surprises me as it's not what I thought. She's concerned about my well-being. This gives me hope.
" This is nothing compared to the pain I go through every day because you left me. Please..."
" Stop your drama," she cuts my statement. " We are not talking about that now. Unlike you,am not okay with standing here in the rain. Am going inside and I advise you to enter your car.," she says, and she leaves me standing in front of the gate.
I stand there unconsciously as I see her enter into the house. She does not try to bat an eye back at me. If this is what a break up feels like, I would not wish any one to go through it. It hurts a lot seeing your beloved leaving you and you hardly have any ideas of what to do at the moment.
I kick my car tyre hrs that I feel the pain pulsating through my entire body. What am I even doing? The rudeness that Rose has exhibited is too much. I feel like losing all hope of getting her back. It appears as if we are on parallel roads that can never cross again. Everyday that passes makes me love her the more but it happens to have the opposite effect on her.
As I lie in bed at night, I think about all the good days and moments I shared with Rose. How they seem to have vanished too fast that right now they seem unreal but a fantasy. I had never thought that they would pass so soon. I wonder if it was that easy for her to cast them away. A failed love that you still fight for is very painful.
I have got million questions but no one except her can answer them. Sadly, she does not even want to speak to me. A thought suddenly comes to me of how I can utter my grievances to her and if this fails, I will finally give up.
I get out of bed and sit at my desk. I get a pen and start jotting my grievances to her. My only hope is that she reads this. As I write, I'm glad of my writing skills as I use them to express my sad emotions to her that am convinced she has to be hit real hard once she reads this. I discard the first piece as if sounds ridiculously irrelevant. After being contented that I have written all she needs to know, I carefully place it in an envelope. I don't write information about the sender as I know it will intrigue her to read it. Suspense keeps humans on tension. Sleep is my best comfort as I embrace the work of nature.
When I check my phone in the morning, I find an email from Elsa Miles . This time when I open it, am not shocked by it's brief notice. She's just reminding me of our appointment time. I feel ashamed that I never thought of Miles the whole of yesterday.
At work, the morning is too busy as a characteristic of Monday . I have many manuscripts to go through and edit and by lunchtime, none of them is incomplete. The only task am left with is replying to the emails on my office computer which I task my secretary to reply.
Lunch is always lively here at the Publishing House as most guys have many stories to tell and being a Monday, there is a lot to jazz about. Unlike me who had a dull weekend, my friends had much fun . I excuse myself and go to Teddy's office.
" You don't need to ask for my permission, Carloy. Go ahead with Elsa Miles and find out about her mysterious life," she says.
'I can do this,' I tell myself as I get as i get prepared to go to Elsa's.
I put my voice recorder and a new notebook in my bag. Am excited for what am going to do this evening, like which young professional writer wouldn't want a chance to write one of the biggest icon's biography? It is me, Carloy James, that is going to know first the truth behind the hidden life of Elsa Miles and it will be me to reveal it to the world.
I check my watch as I ring the doorbell and am just one minute late. I hope the megalomaniac woman is not pissed at this as she has always been complimenting my being punctual. The maid tells me to wait for the owner of the house.
In a few minutes, I am seated opposite Elsa Miles at a coffee table on the balcony of her sitting room. There is a light breeze and I admit that I prefer being here than inside her extremely rich filled house. It seems hospitality is key in this house and the maid brings in refreshments.
" Carloy James,"Elsa starts in her light tone, "I don't know about you, but I am ready to begin my project with you."
I almost tell her that just by her appearance, I can already tell that she is ready for this. She's very determined to do this and I can see the passion evident in her eyes. Of course am very ready to start the journey, a bit excited to listen to her life told by herself. And a bit nervous also.
" I hope your excitement does not make you lose focus," she says sternly. " Remember you are required of highest degree of attention. Listen carefully to what I say and help me deliver the message in the best way possible.
" I will ask questions when something is not clear," I say, reminding her that she's working with a professional.
" You will not interrupt in my speech as I narrate to you," she mentions and I raise my brows.
How is that going to even be possible? In all ways, I need to ask questions as she speaks in order to guide her.
" That's why I require your full attention, Carloy because you have to listen carefully as you take notes then ask me after I have spoken. I hope we are at the same line on that."
" I had not pointed that out. It seems you have done this before. You look very passionate about revealing yourself, Elsa."
I see her raise her brows when I mention her name. Am also surprised by how easily I say it but maybe it's because am good at mastering orders and putting them into action. Like me, I think she's surprised because it is the first time I have addressed her like that.
" Of course am passionate and I have thought about this for long. It is time that I let people stop being told lies about me. I should confess that at times I used to feel very bad because of the wrong information people spread about my life."
" But you never came out to correct them," I say curtly.
" Criticism was needed and I liked being mysterious to the public. In some way those lies and speculations about me enabled me be strong because deep inside, I felt proud. Proud that people wanted to know who Elsa Miles really was and when they failed," she pauses.
" They created their own version of Elsa Miles," I complete her statement.
"People were being suspenseful about me and it enabled me do greater things without the world knowing because their eyes were particularly drawn to the lies given to them,"she adds on.
" Let me tell you something about the famous people, Carloy. We enjoy it when we see people fighting hard to know us . You know why? Because it's only then that we realize it's not only our work but also our life is affecting someone out there. And that only means one thing; that we are making an impact, not just by our works but our own life also is mattering to the world. And that is what we look for. But there is something that differentiates us from those who are just celebrities. And do you know what it is?"
" No, because I thought celebrities are also famous," I reply genuinely.
" Being a celebrity is one thing and being famous is another. Celebrity life is exposed but famous life is always interesting and for a famous person it's always about how to keep it interesting because we want the tablets to be on us, we fight hard to hide the reality because we never want our diehards to know who really we are because later than sooner they will lose interest in us. Yet it's their enthusiasm that keeps us pushing forward. We keep our real life out of the cameras."
" Then why have you decided to let the world know who you really are?" I ask.