"Because you’re not the kind who deceives," he exhaled, with a laugh that held no humor. "You wouldn’t do that to my cousin, or to anyone." He lowered his voice to a whisper: "Besides, I won’t participate in something like that, understand?" I was furious that he’d say all that to me, and I hesitated to accept staying there with him. My throat burned with tension. He watched me like a hunter cornering his prey with cunning. He just wanted me to make the decision. Who taught him to be like this? I fought hard not to cry. My palms pressed against his chest, I tried to push him away slightly. "I don’t know what makes you think I’d return to Nikko." He grabbed my wrists, stealing my breath. "Maël, let me go," I pleaded softly. My demand made him shift abruptly. I saw him swallow and clench his teeth, and I think he even growled before digging his fingers into the front of my shirt, crumpling the fabric as if I were some guy about to be threatened. I flinched at his grip and
(MAËL 2). (2020, Braga) Remembering was why I asked João to give me some time before meeting him. I demanded patience in waiting to come to my father’s office. I sat on the largest sofa in the waiting area upstairs. I grabbed a beer from my six-pack, opened it, and took a long swig. The offices in the house had finally been rented out, and even if Carlos hadn’t stuck his nose into the space, we would’ve ended up without a place to meet anyway. Remember—I wanted to remember everything, over and over, as if picking at the wound was the best remedy for my pain. I looked around. At night, these offices closed their doors, but thanks to my father’s friendship with Dr. Peñera, I could come in as often as I wanted. The tomb-like silence helped me think about my next steps and, of course, about *her*—about Delu. My rage was so immense, so vile… How could I have let it come to this? I don’t think I’ll ever forget seeing her like that. I… I broke that woman. The Sagres six-pack
My forehead was pressed against the glass, and I was biting my nails. The scenery outside meant nothing to me. My body had tensed up the moment I got into the car—my palms bore witness as my nails dug into them while I cried. That’s how badly Nikko’s betrayal had wrecked me, and now his cousin Maël was driving me back to Braga. I didn’t want to go home, so I told him to take me anywhere but my parents’ house. We arrived in Braga in less than 45 minutes without exchanging a single word. He was tense, but not nervous. All I wanted was to forget, to sleep, to ease this suffocating anguish. And despite my misery, being near Maël put me on edge, as it always did—this time would be no exception. The silence broke when we pulled into the garage of what looked like a house. I was completely thrown, and the surprise was enough to snap me out of my haze. "Where are we?" "One of my father’s properties. Did you know about this place? Carlos bought it a few years ago," he explained as th
I walked away from the store quickly, heading back to Nikko’s house to grab my things. The entire time, a young silhouette followed me. "Delu? Delu!" "Has Nikko already left for work?" I asked Maël without stopping. "What are you going to do? Calm down." "Answer me!" Halfway down the sidewalk, with people walking around us, he stopped in front of me, blocking my path. "Don’t yell at me," he demanded. I rolled my eyes and exhaled in annoyance. "If you’re not going to help, if you won’t even answer me, if you’re just going to cover for your dear cousin again, then you’d better leave me alone!" I pushed past him, heading straight for the house we shared. It wasn’t far. In fact, Catalina’s store was very close to the exit of the housing complex. I reached the house quickly, went inside, and started packing. Maël didn’t disappear—he followed me the whole time, now standing in the doorway of Nikko’s room. As I kept moving, I could see him cross his arms, uncross them, cove
I walked to Cata’s store, enjoying a perfect morning. I had barely slept, but it didn’t matter. The birds were singing, the clouds carried a clear decision in my mind. I was FED UP, sick of being the fool who put up with everything. The only bad thing about thinking I’d been deceived was remembering every moment with Maël (especially my thoughts about him), feeling somehow like a traitor with no right to complain. But the good side of it all was that I wouldn’t demand answers from anyone. I would end it, cut it off at the root. And the blessed shoe store filled that space of sanctified waiting. As expected, the girl was there, opening right at 8:00 in the morning. She couldn’t help being punctual. The question was, did she really expect Nikko to come see her? Well, I’d be her ambassador. "Hi, Bel," I greeted with a mocking tone. I could see the color drain from her hollow cheeks. "Hi, Delu. How are you?" A shaky greeting? Hmm… "I’m just fine, thanks. Done opening up?" I poin
Nikko left for Lisbon early on the morning of Thursday the 17th. That day, he needed to return to Circo—to the fabulous stage and even the dressing rooms. He needed to occupy his mind with anything other than those damned text messages, the little "gift," or anything remotely related to it. Since my fiancé wouldn’t be back that week, I decided to send the present to Maël via mail. I didn’t want that thing in my room for another minute, and I wasn’t about to go to Castelo with Nikko away. Nope. No, no, no. The days passed normally. Sandra and I celebrated my "post-birthday" in Mafalaia with her family and her boyfriend, having a great time. I loved that place—it was beautiful but a little run-down, attracting all kinds of people without discrimination. I always ran into someone I knew or ended up practicing my English and Spanish with the tourists staying there. I returned the gift a few days after making the decision, and thank God, no major disaster followed. I suspected Maël d