Cheating

Every morning I spied on him from the window without admitting it. That rainy afternoon he showed up at my door soaked, and I knew there was no way to keep pretending nothing was happening.

I went down to the kitchen to make coffee and felt his gaze fixed on my back. I knew what was going to happen, and for the first time in months I didn’t want to stop him.

When I opened the door to her at home, I knew that woman was going to ruin my night. I had no idea how far she’d take it—or where she’d end up on her knees in front of me.

When she told him she was “hanging in there,” Tino understood that word weighed the same as his own: years of cold sheets. And in the middle of the street, they decided to fix it.

They thought they were paying a price for one night. Ariadna discovered something else: being in charge felt too good to ever go back.

Bruno thought he had control over everything: his girlfriend, his lover, and his pride between his legs. He had no idea that night he’d lose all three at once.

She kept the card for weeks, telling herself she would never go. One Friday afternoon, for reasons she couldn’t explain, she put on her best dress and walked through that door.

I crossed the hotel door knowing that night I would stop being me. Three strangers were waiting with a poured drink and no intention of handling me gently.

My husband slept through the afternoon while I walked the sand searching for the three men I’d been imagining for two days. I wasn’t coming back without them.

The phone rang after midnight. It was her, but she didn’t say a word: she just turned the camera so I could see, in the dim light of that car, what she was doing.

I dressed in my plainest clothes so I wouldn’t give anything away. What I didn’t count on was that I wouldn’t be alone in that apartment—and that I was still the same girl as before.

At forty-five, after eight years without touching a man, Inés thought she’d seen it all. Until her two most prudish friends arrived in tears with the truth.

I went down to the garden ready to call the police. I never imagined I’d end up on my knees, yielding to the three strangers hiding in the guest house.

I’d been married and bored for years when those four guys surrounded me on the dance floor. None of them guessed that, under the costume, I was more than ready to play along.

My husband didn’t even look at me when I left in that tight skirt that night. He didn’t know I was going to a hotel to watch, from an armchair, what I’d wanted for years.

I only wanted to sleep off the booze. But when the door opened and the three of them came in, I decided to keep my eyes closed and see how far they’d dare go.

I thought it would just be another photo shoot. I had no idea the three of them would end up touching me at once—or that I’d let myself go without thinking of my husband.

I’d known her since we were children: sweet, quiet, the perfect wife. Until I walked into that club in the city and saw her stretched out on the table, surrounded by men.

She told her husband she’d sleep at a friend’s house. In reality, she was naked in the bed of a truck, listening to the line forming outside.

I met her on the excursions, exotic and self-assured. I never imagined that one comment from her by the pool would end with me naked in my husband’s room.

Her husband’s phone was on the bedside table. She knew she shouldn’t open it. She opened it anyway. And what she found destroyed her in two ways.

She stepped into the bathtub with no intention of cleaning herself. She only wanted to relive every second of that afternoon before her husband walked through the door.

She doesn’t know that when I go out “to see a friend,” I come back smelling like another man. I’ve been living like this for three months, and I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.

Andrés used to tell me the neighbor watched us too much. He was right. But that August afternoon, when the doorbell rang and I went to open it, I was glad he wasn’t home.

I gave her permission to be with another man. What I didn’t expect was to be glued to the phone, listening to everything, unable to hang up.

When Aurelia took off her dress in front of my camera, I knew that photo shoot wasn’t going to end like the others.

I walked to school feeling Ramiro’s semen between my legs. The day had barely begun.

Sofía pulled out the clothes her husband had never seen from the back of the closet. Her daughter did the same. That night they went out together to find what was missing at home.