Love or Game (Complete✅)

Chapter 33 - "Prisoners of past..."

The outhouse of Sánchez couple

"You know you really love someone when you can't hate them for breaking your heart."

The quote on the laptop screen drives a feeble smile on my lips. It's midnight in Salvador. For the last 2 and a half years, I am living in different cities of Brazil like a bohemian. And nowadays my temporary shelter is this outhouse of Mr and Mrs Carlos and Calida Sánchez. Although Salvador, the capital of Brazil's north-eastern state of Bahia is mostly populated with Portuguese people Sánchez couple are Spanish. They are rich and most importantly inclined to art and aesthetic. For this reason, when my company Decoración appointed me as an exclusive interior designer for their Mansion, I immediately agreed. Mr Sánchez's palatial house is situated a bit outskirt of the main city. It would have been hectic for me to come, work and go back every day to my apartment in the main city. Mrs Sánchez solved this problem and offered me to stay in their outhouse until I finish my work. It seemed quite reasonable advice to me. A fortnight has been passed since I am living here. The place is quiet and it is quieter during the night. Only the continuous and monotonous chirping of cricket (insect) is proving that time is still passing. I mostly do the official and designing work during the night because in the day I am to instruct and coordinate with the workers who are working in the Sánchez Mansion. As I click the cross button to exit the quote page and try to concentrate again on the designing portion a sweet adorable and puerile call shifts my all focus,

"Mummum...Bui Bui..."

I turn at the source of the voice and locate his tiny frame on the doorstep. He is rubbing his drowsy eyes with his tiny fists. I get up from the chair and saunter at him. As I stand in front of him, he wraps me by my knees and digs his tiny face in between my thighs.

"Bui Bui..."

He again utters in his babyish voice. Bui Bui means nymphs. My almost 2 years son is scared of nymphs a lot. For that reason, my lullaby for him can never be the fairy tales where nymphs help the poor girl to win her prince charming's heart. Instead, he likes to listen to adventure and jungle stories where Lion king, at last, defeats his evil uncle Scar. I scoot forward and pick him up in my lap. He snakes my neck with his left hand and mouths in an indulgent tone,

"Mumti Mumti..."

That means he is not only scared but also hungry. But not for any solid food. He needs my milk. He is 2 years but still intoxicated to his mumti mumti. I chuckle at his adorable face. He exactly looks like his father. Same silky hair, sharp features and intense eyes. He is lefty too, like him. However, his nature is very similar to mine. Patient, stubborn but logical. Only a bad quality he inheres from his father is his anger. When his anger and stubbornness mix then nobody can tell that he is merely a 2 years kid. I peck his soft cheek and say in a gentle voice,

"My Jellybean! I told you, Mummum has some work. After that, I will come to my Huggy Buggy. You have just drunk the milk, Baby. You can't be hungry so soon."