His Entertainer

Chapter 20

           HERMANN RODRIGUEZ POV.

The Castro funeral was sparsely attended.
I held Ivy's hand tighter. I couldn't trust anyone here, every eye felt like an accusation.

“Who died?” Ivy whispered.

“Maris Castro,” I replied, stopping short of explaining.

“Who’s that man?” she asked, her tone softer.

I followed her gaze to a man in a rumpled white shirt and black trousers, his hair a mess, his eyes swollen. He was smoking, a half-empty bottle of liquor in his other hand.  He looked utterly broken.

“That’s…Richard Castro. Maris was his wife,” I murmured.

“No, she was his everything, ” Ivy said, meeting my gaze.  “Go talk to him. He needs someone.”

I went with her.  His face was etched with exhaustion and grief.  His eyes were lifeless.

“She’s still alive, Hermann. My Maris is calling me,” he sobbed, his voice raw with pain.

I patted his shoulder, he pulled me into a hug. I patted his back, offering what little comfort I could. I hadn't seen someone this broken in decades.
After a few minutes, he pulled away.  I turned to find Ivy gone.  Shit!  “Richard, hold on, I’m coming,” I said, pulling out my phone and calling Norman.  “…where's Ivy?” I asked immediately.

“she was with you,” he replied instantly.

I quickly walked through the crowd, pushing past people, desperate.  “well now she's not, find her!” I shouted, my voice echoing in the sudden silence.
“Uhm…she’s not inside either.” Norman said on the other end.
My heart pounded. “Fuck” Anger and frustration boiled inside of me quietly.

Then, a distance child’s giggle drifted from the green garden house catching my attention, then, i slowly approached it.

"Do you have a best friend?”

“I had one once, but…”

“She left you for another?”

“No, she's far away.”

_______________________________________________

                       IVY SILVER POV.

I felt pity for Richard.
Him and her seemed to have fully managed to fill each other, to finally manage to love eachother entirely.
I turned away from the two men. They needed time alone.  And maybe I did too.  Hermann wouldn’t be pleased, but… if he was going to keep me locked up, I deserved a little freedom.

My eyes fell on the glass house behind the mansion. I went inside.

“Hello there, wanna play?” a sweet little voice said.  A beautiful young girl in a simple white dress stood there.

“Hey, what’s your name?” I asked, bending down.

“Maira,” she said.

“Maira… why are you here alone?”

“No one will play with me. My mom was my only friend, and we’d come here to play together,” she said, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, yet a smile still played on her lips.  She was too young to be so strong.

“Come here, baby,” I opened my arms.  I knew what it felt like to be separated from your mother, especially when she’s your best friend.

So this was Maira Castro…

Maira started replanting dead flowers, and I joined her, sharing jokes and making her giggle.

“Do you have a best friend?” she asked.

“I had one once, but…”

“She left you for another?”

“No, she's just far,” I said, the words a weight lifted from my chest.

Oh shit..

I thought as i turned to the presence my body sensed, it was Hermann, standing in the doorway, his eyes narrowed.

“Uncle Hermann!” Maira chirped, throwing herself into his arms.  He lifted her into the air, making her giggle. “Monkey… you’re a big girl now,” he said, his voice mocking yet tender.
It was a foreign side of him I never met before, the way his face relaxed and his lips curves into a tender smile was amazingly beautiful.

“I see you’ve met Ivy,” he said, his attention now on me.  His gaze was cold, hard once more.

“Let’s go, monkey…” he said to Maira, taking her hand.  Then, his gaze fixed on me.  “Let’s go,” he said, his voice like ice.

I walked beside him.  “Why did you disobey me?” he whispered, his teeth gritted, pure anger radiating from him.
“I thought Richard needed some comfort,” I replied, my voice barely a whisper.
“I gave you a direct order not to leave my sight, Ivy,” he hissed.
“I know, I’m sorry, Hermann,” I said, trying to diffuse the situation, before it gets out of hand.
“Just because you apologized, I’ll let it slide… this time.  Don’t let it happen again. Are we clear?”
“Yes, we are,” I said, bracing myself for whatever punishment he had in store.  Something told me I’d be tied up naked more than once with this man.

The funeral began.  I saw Norman and Genevieve in the distance.
“Today, we are gathered here to give our last respects to Maris Castro, who was a wife, a mother, and a friend…”

I glanced at Hermann. His eyes were closed, his face impassive, but his clenched fists told a different story.

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