Chapter 47: Emeralds
You hate it.
Everytime Henry goes to work now, you hate yourself. Why?
Because he has given you no reason to feel what you're feeling. He is as attentive as before, loving as before, but your time is a bit constrained because of his hours and the schedule the project is trying to keep. You understood that. You did before...
But...
That new girl Emma is Henry's type: new, young, intriguing at first glance. He once told you that he was the descendant of barbarians. Barbarians conquer because they want to mark and claim something that wasn't theirs, and if there is no challenge after, will lose interest and move on to greener pastures.
You don't want to appear jealous or insecure but the feelings are there, and you did not miss the way he appreciated her looks. You'd have to be blind. The way he looks at you and the way he looks at her are not the same. He has special tones for you, you realize one day when he invited you to lunch. Even she saw that, and you secretly enjoyed her blink of jealousy and blink of neutrality when Henry glanced at her.
One day you decide to surprise Henry for lunch. You decide to go to Stella and bring his food to him as a surprise, a flashback from the old days when you were working on set.
"Hey!"
"Hey, you!" Stella elbow bumps you. "What're you doing here?"
"I thought I'd bring Henry his lunch, if you don't mind."
"Oh, Wendy!" Stella called over her shoulder, and whispers, "I'm not on the bottom anymore, not completely, thank God!"
A red head comes out wearing an apron. "I'm not done with the pots—"
"I know, but did you see Henry's lunch?"
"Uh, yeah, Emma's been taking it."
Stella looks at you and frowns at the new girl. "Emma?"
"Yes, she's been taking it to his trailer," Wendy shrugs.
Stella blinks at you. "I swear, I didn't—" She swings around to face Wendy, hand on her hip. "aren't you supposed to take it?"
"She was taking it for him, said that they had rehearsals or something," Wendy began to rub the sides of her pants nervously. "I never heard any complaints."
"Okay," Stella nods curtly. After Wendy leaves, she says, "I know what you're thinking."
"What?"
"I really believe he loves you."
You swallow hard. "Love and lust are not friends, Stel." You turn your heel and leave. You know the way to his trailer. You feel sick because you're scared. You feel angry because he never mentioned this. You feel ashamed because you should trust him more. You feel the beginnings of a headache when you knock on his trailer door.
He swings the door open and looks surprised. Just as he is about to say something, Emma comes out. "We were rehearsing."
"During lunch?" you ask with a breathless smile.
"He's been really nice, making time for me," Emma smiled. You see Henry frown at her and she adds, "you know, pointers and advice. I'm still new to all this."
You take a very slow breath. "You're rehearsing?"
"Yes, we were," Henry said in a low voice, a tone that you'd heard before but not with him. He did not want to argue about this, and didn't want to be questioned, either.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I wanted to surprise you," you swallow hard. "I should have called." You step up to rub his nose with your own, and kiss him. You step back and smile, trying to control the lump in your throat. You hear him call you and you look over your shoulder. "Later, love, it's okay, I'll eat with Stella." You keep your steps steady, knowing you are being watched, and head in the direction of the dining tent. Once out of sight, you go in a completely different direction, going the long way around to a beautiful area he'd shown you.
You sit to eat and take another shaky breath. Don't cry, you tell yourself. Let the falls do it. Your vision begins to blur as your cleansing breaths become heavier. You realize you can't do this. The world is coming into the bubble you had with him and now you must trust and share him. But, oh, how many times had you done that with someone to be betrayed?
"Hey."
You gasp and turn to see someone coming toward you. He's tall, long haired, gorgeous, and...oh...tall.
You back away slowly. "I-I'm just leaving."
"This is a closed set, you'd better get going before someone finds you."
You frown. "Wait, are you...you're Brock O Hurn!"
"Yeah," he says slowly. "And holy shit, you're an American!"
We both smiled at each other. "Nice to hear someone from home."
"Yeah, nice," he nods. "Wait, an American. You're Henry Cavill's woman, right?"
You exhale.
"Ooh, okay, but am I wrong, here?"
"No," you answer. "just chilling out."
"Hey, hey, you don't have to do that, alright?"
"What?"
"Close off, get defensive," he says. "Can I sit with you?"
"Yeah, sure."
He sits down next to you and rakes his hair. God, it's pretty. "You can touch it if you want."
"Really?"
"Yeah, go ahead."
You touch it. "Wow, no hair dryers for you."
"Whenever possible, yeah."
"Nice," you compliment honestly.
"So what brings you out here?" he asks.
"Just...chilling, I guess."
"Don't wanna tell me."
"Nope." You shake your head, smiling.
"See you finished lunch, there," he nods down to the crumpled napkin in your hand.
"Yeah," you nod with a smile. "I actually cycled here, so a little dumbbell work and back to the laptop."
"Dumbbell work?" He unties his shirts and puts them on.
"Yeah."
"You know I'm a personal trainer, right?"
Your interest piques. "Really?"
"What are your goals?"
"Stronger, faster, you know, six million dollar woman stuff," you chuckle humorlessly.
"Okay," he nods. "there's something else, isn't there?"
You sigh. "I want to learn to fight better."
"Come again?"
"The stronger part?"
He frowns. "What happened to you?"
"Been hit before, that's all, been independent, like making sure I can stay that way."
"Alright, Cavill's not a hitter," he thinks aloud. "he may be sort of a womanizer, but he's not a hitter." He frowns. "What's going on? Look, I know the code. I won't tell."
You look at him. "I've been on my own awhile."
"I know how that is."
"I just want to be strong, stay that way."
He's quiet for a moment. "The new actress. The little hottie?"
"I just want to be strong and stay that way!"
"You want to feel strong in case he trades you off for the model."
"I can't do anything about my heart, but the rest of me I can do something about."
"Alright," he nods. "I can train you, if you want. Make you stronger, feel stronger, show you some fight moves."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah, we Yanks gotta stick together."
"God, it's nice to be on a team." You laugh, and the tears in your eyes pool as you do.
"Hey."
You look at him.
"I don't think he's interested in her."
"Why do you say that?"
"She's chasin' him," he shrugs. "not his style." He gives a slow smile. "He chase you?"
"He liked my writing."
"Oh," he smiles. "You're a writer."
"Yeah," you chuckle. "He was actually a fan. I showed up for a con, I think he rigged the panel."
"Oooh, a chess player," he reclines. "a real huntsman. Careful, girl. You're more like a doe. Quick thinking, skittish, elusive...but oh, the catch."
You frown at him. "That's messed up."
"Oh, you know men, we're kinda messed up."
"He basically pursued me," you tell him. "I didn't want to believe it, you know?"
"Oh, wow, so you were engaging his mind," he smiles. "Go on."
You look at him.
"Most women try to use their wiles to keep attention," he nods. "you did more than that. You were probably just being yourself." When you scoff, he looks you up and down. "It's enough."
"Well, I'm no Vanity Fair Marie Claire Cosmopolitan, you know?"
"Good for you."
You chuckle.
"So you want to be strong, feel strong."
"Yeah." You need this and now. "I just want to feel—"
"Like you can survive anything?"
You nod slowly. "Yeah."
"Alright, then, we'll get started." You work out the details. Doe? Doe? You tell yourself. You smile to yourself as you both walk back together. Time to be elusive and have speed. Time to show him he didn't catch a doe, but a tigress by the toe.