All Chapters of CROOKED: In love with my cousin's boyfriend: Chapter 41 - Chapter 47

Beautiful. I was born there and have walked through that place hundreds of times, but the tranquility, liveliness, and beauty of Braga’s Republic Square will never cease to amaze me. Walking over that whitish-gray pavement again and again, knowing it has witnessed my beginnings, is like looking into the eyes of a mother who cares for you. Does that sound exaggerated? Think about it for a moment and understand: our mothers are beings we never stop loving. That’s why I allow myself to compare that humble yet fabulous square to motherhood itself. It was already mid-April. In fact, on Monday the 15th of that month, Circo let me off early, and I took the opportunity to browse the cultural stalls set up by the Artisans of the Minho Region. I went with the idea of picking up something creative as a gift for the production team—two of whom had traveled from Lisbon to join the artistic work, forming our group of four. The weather was pleasant at midday. The square was filled with

I couldn't believe it. I smiled without anything to laugh about, looking anywhere but at him, wondering when he had seen us. Then I remembered... Even so, I had to ask questions. "Was that you on the motorcycle?" I let my voice remain calm. The opposite of how I felt inside. It felt so good to be with him there, enjoying ourselves without thinking about the good or bad things in the world, but that wasn't good. "Answer me." "Yes, what's the matter?" I looked at his face. Pure seriousness and determination. And he continued speaking without a hint of doubt. "I wanted to meet you somewhere other than here." He pointed to the upstairs room where we used to meet. "I thought it would be a good idea to walk, talk, have a drink outside... Do you know what a surprise is, Delu?" He paused and began to nod with a smile like mine from a few moments ago: one of disbelief and certainty; it doesn't bode well. "You know what it is. It's exactly what I felt when I saw you with him, hugging him, lau

“You asked me to oversee the renovations while I’m in Braga—that’s why the mattress, for when I have to stay here.” Silence. “Where is she?” Silence again. My God, was he pointing at the door? I didn’t even dare look at the wood. “There’s no one here, Dad,” Maël denied again. They were whispering, clearly trying to keep Mr. Peñera—who I assumed was the potential tenant—from overhearing their argument. I swallowed again, this time feeling real pain. Yes, pain—because that’s what fear does: it hurts your throat and stomach, makes you sweat, paralyzes you. Mr. Carlos couldn’t see me here. No, no, no, no! Absolutely not! That would be the end of me. It would mean total failure, shame. It would be a colossal mistake. I was the ex-girlfriend of his nephew, I used to live in his house back in Castelo. He’d seen me with Nikko for years. All it would take was opening that door for him to see a witch-looking slut now sleeping with his son. His nephew’s cousin! What a curse! That fam

“I wasn’t going to confess anything—I’d never betray you, and you know that.” “I know, but that’s not what I mean.” I wiped my face with the back of my hands. “Why are you crying? You don’t have to cry.” I opened my purse, checked my phone, and aimlessly scrolled through apps without really seeing them—anything to avoid looking at him. “Delu.” He stepped closer, and I stepped back. “What you heard…” “You get money to do whatever you want.” I looked at him again. “We could’ve met at a hotel, couldn’t we?” He frowned and clenched his jaw. “Is that what you want?” “Maël…” I exhaled to steady my voice. “I don’t know what kind of relationship you have with your father, but I don’t ever want to hear you talk to him like that again—or him to you. You’re not like that, Maël. You’re not a bad kid, not a bad son. Why do you treat each other that way?” His jaw tightened even more. “He and I don’t…” “I get it, I get that you have your differences. At your age, I argued with