“Is buying a painting a sin? Why the hell did you run away?” Ara snickers, and I shrug. I don’t care what she thinks. I had all my reason to run away.
“Simple. I didn’t want the artist to know who was stupid enough to squander his lifetime savings just to purchase that portrait.”
Ara’s mouth drops, her eyes as wide as the moon that has started to sail in the sky.
“Do you mean it’s so expensive?”
“More expensive than buying a car,” I smirk after hearing her gasp.
“So where is it now?” she asks, looking at me like she’ll do whatever it takes to see that painting.
“It’s upstairs.
“Tell me more, Zed. This part of you seems so interesting,” she implores happily, her excitement palpable in the air.
While I’m giving a thought to what she asks, some scenes of the past start floating at the ack of my mind…
______
“Mr. Ramos, someone wants to see you. He said he just needs five minutes,” one of the seminar organizers approached me while I was resting in the anteroom, waiting for the intermission number to finish.
“Sure,” I nod. People looking for me for counseling or motivation was not new to me. After my lectures, people always gathered around, queueing for a chance to talk to me. If King Midas’ touch from old folklore could turn things into gold, so were the words that landed in their hearts.
The organizer gestured for someone to come over, and I saw a young man walking towards me.
“Good evening, Mr. Ramos,” he greeted, and I welcomed him with a smile.
“Sit down, young lad,” I say, motioning for him to sit across from me. I was sitting by a table, preparing for my next presentation.
“Thank you, sir. But I won’t take long.”
“Oh, I see. What is that something you want to talk about?” I asked. Most of my followers would always ask anything just to have my time.
“I’m tasked to deliver this invitation card.”
“From?” I asked.
“From the organizers of Modern Art Museum. They say you are one of their cherished benefactors. It’s written inside. Please read.”
“Oh, of course,” I chuckled. Everyone who sends invitations always writes their names at the bottom of the card.
I tore the envelope open, wanting to know who the sender was. But before I could spread out the sheet, the young man interrupted me.
“Sir, the boss asked me to let you sign personally as proof of receipt,” he smiled at me shyly.
“Alright.” It wasn’t like I hadn’t signed into thousands of autographs and books, featuring me as someone who changed their views in life.
The lad handed me a tiny guest book. I spread it open, then wrote my signature over my full printed name. I then slid it back to him, giving him my million-dollar smile.
“Thank you, Mr. Ramos.”
“My pleasure.”
After the young man closed the door to the anteroom, I took out the card inside a square-shaped envelope. And there, I stared at the embossed gold letters on the card.
“We, the Keepers of Modern Arts, cordially invite you to attend our annual art exhibition featuring artist Little Heart’s beautiful mementos…”
I blinked my eyes as I saw the artist’s pen name. Little Heart.
______
“Zed? Can you stop ignoring me?” Ara’s voice snaps me back to reality.
I turn to hear and scoff. “I’m sorry.”
“What’s happening to you? If you’re not going to tell me more about your brother, you can at least tell me what’s bothering you.”
“How true is it that Ella is going to marry Dennis of Kim Yuan’s?”
Glints of fear and worry fleck across her face. But I know Ara couldn’t afford to keep me in the dark.
“Yes. Ella has confirmed it to me, Zed.”
A squeezing pain suddenly grips my heart. It’s so painful that I wince and close my eyes.
“I don’t also understand her, Zed. I thought she left you for James. But you know what? There must be a deep reason why she’s doing that.”
“It’s part of James’ revenge,” I tell Ara, although I can’t connect the pieces of her mysterious activities.
“How?” Ara looks horrified like she’s smelling the fumes of death in the air.
“I don’t know, but there must be something James wants to get from him.”
“Do you mean Ella is the price?”
I nod vigorously. I can’t think of other feasible reasons why she consents to marry the man I am sure she doesn’t love. My heart breaks for her. It only shows how James regards her only as a puppet or a pawn.
“What are you planning? Do you want to save her?”
“How I wish I could. But how? James is powerful. Ella would only suffer in his hands.”
I can’t tell Ara that I also have plans of my own, but I’m running out of time. I have already disconnected myself from the investigation team who are tasked to monitor James’ activities. Only when they can find strong pieces of evidence against James’ underhanded activities can Ella and me be set free.
“At least, you realized that. Ella knows the kind of world she’s entering into, so she’s already mentally prepared for whatever is going to happen. But as for you, save yourself.”
“No.”
My mind and heart refuse even to think of leaving her alone. I may not be able to be with her, but at least I still can watch her from a distance. She’s only a woman naturally-clad with frailties, no matter how brave she seems to be.
“Please, Zed, I’ve heard Jamella will open next week formally. Rumor has it that James will execute his plan to escape once the partnership is sealed.”
I purse a smile. I can’t disagree with that, but I’m just not convinced that James is going to escape during that day. The only probable day, if I have to analyze it myself, is the day when Ella gives birth.