Beach

We were in her room with wine when she burst out laughing. “I never told you everything about Búzios.” I knew what was coming would shake me.

Both men wore wedding rings and had spent twenty years doing the same thing on business trips. Everything changed the day they stopped at that beach.

She took another sip of wine, looked at me with that smile that means a confession is coming, and started telling me what really happened that night in the rented house.

Lucía let go of the helm, leaned back against my chest, and I felt her hips moving, searching for what she could no longer hide under her swimsuit.

When I rolled down the window, Laura had already decided that night would have no limits. The strangers outside the car could tell.

I tried them on one by one in front of the mirror, with him watching from the other side of the screen. It wasn’t fashion. It was pure control.

Marcos introduced Lucía as his wife in front of the bartender. She was Diego’s wife. No one corrected him. That’s how the night began.

Heat, the sea, and two couples who are far too comfortable with each other. When the two men went off to buy beers, none of them imagined what they’d end up talking about.

That giant of a man was eating a sandwich at the bar. One look was enough to know I’d be back at the nightclub door that night looking for him.

A hidden cove, a lookout over the sea, and a bet: he had one minute to make her come before they got caught.