Renata Soler

I crossed the living room to get a glass of water, forgetting the curtains were still open. On the other side of the glass, his eyes had already found me.

I have my cheek pressed against the cold tile and I can’t remember his face, only the rhythm of him coming in and out of me while his hands hold my waist.

I lit only the red candles, adjusted my babydoll, and waited. When the doorbell rang, I knew that dawn would remind me who I truly was.

I followed her upstairs with my eyes fixed on her skirt, never imagining that I wouldn’t be the one making the decisions that night.

That afternoon, while the movie kept playing in the background, her sweaty hand found mine under the blanket and I knew something between us was about to change forever.

I saw her appear at the far end of the street and already knew that night wouldn’t be like the others. She hadn’t come to chat.

When she told me she was into me, I didn’t believe her. Then came the message with the hotel name and the exact time. I knew it was real.

I’d filtered through dozens of profiles before getting to Marcos. Everything I asked for, and the patience that’s never in surplus. But someone always shows up too early.

She entered the confessional to talk about her dreams. When she left the sacristy, she was no longer the same. Eighteen years old, she had just discovered what her body had been asking for months.

When Marcos told me he wanted to share me with another man, I didn’t reject him. I felt curiosity, nerves, and something I had never felt before: real desire.

When he told me he was a virgin, I didn’t know whether to laugh or hug him. I chose the second. What came after was inevitable.

I’d been married twenty years when a stranger looked at me at a dinner and I knew, without him saying a word, that that night I would let my guard down for the first time.

I went down to the park with the bills ready, but he demanded something different. If I said no, they’d break my son’s face again tomorrow.

It was the first time I went to the transport base to look for him. What I didn’t know was that Rodrigo was already waiting for me with a smile that wasn’t innocent.

I sat as far away from her as possible at that dinner. But I ended up with my hand on her waist and her hips pressed hard against mine.

I opened the drawer with my heart pounding. There was lace, there was string, there was a woman waiting inside clothes that had never been mine. That afternoon everything changed.

Four weeks without seeing him. Four weeks trying to erase the memory of other hands. That night, April became someone she no longer recognized.