Silence. "What do you mean Carlos isn’t your father? What are you telling me?" "Carlos isn’t my biological dad," he huffed before continuing. "Here’s the story: My mother cheated on him, okay? That’s it." "What do you…? That’s it?" The same gesture as before—his tongue prodding at his molars. "Mom cheats, gets pregnant by someone else, and he forgives her. That’s why I still carry Carlos’ last name, but obviously, because he’s a Saravia, and because of our laws and customs…" My mouth hung open. "And your family knows about this? I mean…" "Yeah, it’s no secret to anyone. They never hid the fact that I wasn’t Carlos’ son." He paused briefly, clenching his jaw slightly. "At least they were honest, right?" I was literally speechless. And my brain felt a little deflated. "I’ve had a thousand clashes with him, Delu, thousands. We don’t get along, even though there was a time when he showed me affection. But I always felt his regret—regret for accepting me as his son, you u
I stood there like a statue. "…Huh?" "I’m parked outside your house. Come down." «What?!» I rushed to my bedroom window, which faced the front of the house. Sure enough, tucked into a corner, slightly to the left, I could make out a dark-colored car with its low beams on. I stumbled back to the bed and sat down, stunned. "Have you lost your mind?" "Delu, I need to talk to you. Please, can you come down?" "But you’re insane, Maël. It’s past 2:00 in the morning. What do you want? And why are you showing up now?" "Delu, I don’t want to be seen. Please, just come here." "Oh, relax. If that’s your concern, don’t waste your energy. There’s no way my family would find it strange that my ex-fiancé’s cousin came to visit me in the middle of the night." "Enough with the nonsense and sarcasm, please, just come—" "What the hell are you doing here at this hour if you know it’s a huge mistake?" "If it weren’t urgent, I wouldn’t have come." "Tell me over the phone." "Da
"Where is he now?" "Delu, I don’t know exactly what’s going on between you two, but I know you were his cousin’s girlfriend, and I don’t want to get in the middle of that mess, okay?" He paused and shook his head. "We’re meeting up later, but don’t ask me for the address because I don’t know if he plans to invite you, alright? Sorry to say it like this—it’s nothing personal." I felt myself shrink inside. His cell phone rang. "Sorry, I have to take this." Saved by the bell, I watched him do his thing while turning over every word he’d said in my mind. He hung up, exhaled through his nose with a tight-lipped smile, as if saying, "That’s life," and turned to leave. "No, wait a second, please. What makes you think I wouldn’t realize Maël was behind organizing tonight?" The dark-skinned man’s parted lips told me I’d caught him off guard. "You can deny it a thousand times, but I know he’s behind this. I don’t remember when the hell I mentioned my love for Hooverphonic to him
The song ended, and I stood up to applaud. "This is incredible!" I ran to hug Sandra. "You’ve outdone yourself, girl. It was a real surprise, but why? For the play?" "For the play, for your success! I didn’t get the chance to tell you how happy I was to hear you were back in the game." "Since when have you been planning this?" "Me planning it? No, not at all! It wasn’t me. She was the one who wanted to come..." "Hey, you!" I interrupted Sandra when I saw Galev stepping away from the table. I pointed at him, motioned for him to come over, and hugged him. "You keep surprising me more and more, Russian. How did you get Liesje to come all the way here?" "Delu, come on, come on!" Sandrita cut in. "I’ve already taken a million pictures with her, but I didn’t post any so you wouldn’t see anything. Now it’s your turn." I followed her backstage. And as if the night wasn’t already a whirlwind of emotions, having Liesje right in front of me—greeting her, hugging her, getting to k
In just seconds, I felt the ground shift beneath my feet. I don’t know if Fran noticed the drastic change in my expression, but it must have been obvious. "Hello, Delu. How are you?" It was Joao, Maël’s friend, greeting me. "Hi," I managed. "I’m good, and you?" He pressed his lips into something between a smile and a grimace and shrugged. I glanced toward the entrance, tense, praying no other unwelcome surprises would appear. Oblivious to my turmoil, the others took their seats, leaving me no choice but to follow. I switched chairs, turning my profile to the main gate. Fran sat to my right, Sandra to my left—closer to Galev—while Gregorio Sr. took the seat beside Fran, his son next to him, until the table was full and Joao settled directly across from me. The newcomers handed their jackets to Gregorio Sr. when asked, giving me time to study Joao more closely. He was undeniably handsome, young but with a face that carried a wisdom beyond his years. His smooth, dark skin—l
I've always believed that what happens is for the best. And Nikko brought that truth crashing down on me—his drunken ambush at the rave was a glaring sign that something terrible was brewing that night. Yet just as suddenly as he had appeared, Maël vanished into thin air.Yes. After the near-disaster at the party, after returning to Braga with my brother and his friends, after locking myself in my room to replay every excruciating detail—Maël gave no further sign of life.I dared to text him. At first, just casual check-ins: "How are you? Are you back in Braga?" Then escalating to "Can we talk?" And finally, inevitably: "Why aren't you answering me?" For a week I bombarded him—texts, WhatsApp (after unblocking him), even emails. Nothing at all. Every call went straight to voicemail. Had he decided we weren't worth the trouble? Had something happened with Nikko? How am I supposed to know?That last question gnawed at me. While my ex had also gone radio silent, if he had found out about