Gonzalo_manu82

I walked fifteen minutes to his hotel in the shortest dress I owned. I knew exactly what I was there to do and I didn’t care if it showed.

I’d walked for hours, my dress torn and blood on my legs. I couldn’t stop. I had to see him, even if everything I did that night destroyed me.

I’d been under the same roof as my father’s wife for four days when she left her bedroom door ajar and told me, without words, to come upstairs.

I kissed him for the first time at nineteen, but we couldn’t finish. Eleven years later, I found him at my boyfriend’s club with another woman on his arm.

I knelt between his legs in that hotel room and used my lips to say everything words couldn’t.

I’d been dancing alone for hours when I felt him behind me. I turned, and there he was. And I knew that night wasn’t ending on the dance floor.

Every time I walked into her bar, her eyes would find mine over the top of her glasses. That afternoon I decided I could no longer pretend I didn’t notice.

We were alone in the house with fever and boredom. On the third night, with the lights off, Marcos confessed something no one else knew about him.

I was twenty-six and had never done anything like it. I entered that room trembling and came out a different person.