MULATTO (Iyila) (Editing)

Sixty three

Against all his effort, as much as he tried, Gabriel couldn't stop thinking about Iyila. Neither could he stop worrying about her well
being and most importantly; how she now conceived him. Very so often in the quietness of his warm room pervaded with autumn's breeze mixed with whiffs of Abigail's plants at near garden, he wondered if she also wanted him as much as he did her. At times he wondered if thoughts of him invaded her subconsciousness as frequent as hers did his. Too many times he'd wondered if her heart like his ached with a desperate longing that sometimes frightened him. Or if despair clung tightly to her heart whenever memories of him raked her mind, only to be shattered by the painful throe of the reality of the distance in between them. Every now and then even while  engrossed with a case he wondered if she dreamt of him or perhaps disappointment and doubt had already replaced every beautiful memory they once shared.

So many days had passed. So many days since he promised to return her. Precisely sixty four days. It was no myth that time no matter its length, whether short or long was capable of swaying a persons trust and Gabriel couldn't more agree to this. God! He'd be damned if he dared criticize her if she now thought evil of him or if she stoically resented him. He wouldn't judge her if every enthralling memory had been succeeded by nothing other than black hate. He was after all a man with an unprecedented standing with women. So vile as to send any judicious woman scurrying through the next turnpike. How many times had his unprincipled affairs with women spread through the elites and passed down to eavesdropping negroes. How many times had he promised a woman yet failed to keep to his words. How many times had he been suggested a rake! He'd even told her a dozen times back at the plantation. Christ! He'd been a fool, a clodhopper. He'd had taken whatever that had come his way with no consideration of his future. He'd been an outright arrogant bastardized and so long proudly parades his weakness for women, his son-his blemish as a crown. An accomplishment more so, a worthy addition to his smugness. But now whenever he looked back at his life, Gabriel saw that it had always been vile. Those wild nights with Victoria Prestly and the others had all been lechery. Only a desperate desire to feel a hollowness that had been insatiable. And sometimes fear of how his past could easily destroy his relationship with Iyila clung closely to his heart that sometimes he found his heart in great trepidation. However whenever those silly fears threatened to steal his sanity Gabriel just pushed them aside with his earnest resolve to bare all to her. He wasn't the most virtuous man but Gabriel thought telling her about his plenty women and mostly Shannon would salvage a lot at least for the sake of trust and honesty. Good heavens he missed her. He'd never believed that he was capable of dreadfully missing a woman as he did her.

One night he couldn't sleep as thoughts of her invaded his mind. It was the fourth week since he last saw her. Four solid horrible weeks he'd been restrained by distance and a necessary plight to taste the  softness of her sleek lips. Four weeks since he last stared into her spherical, mischievous golden eyes of hers that was yet an enigma to him. He missed the feel of his hand in her thick curly black hair. Goodness he missed the sound of her glee, her airy countenance, the way her eyes moved when she was nervous and the furrowing of her brows when she was angry.... it was endless how much he missed her. Sometimes he couldn't help the puerile smile that usually crept up his face even in odd places whenever his mind reasoned their arguments. It was rare to find friendship in a persons partner and he felt fortunate to have that with Iyila.

Authors note: short but I hope u like it. Not edited so sorry for any mistakes. New chapter in a bit!!!!