My Partner’s Son Asked Me Forgiveness at Midnight

The conversation I’d had with Noelia the day before had left me feeling all stirred up inside. That girl, barely twenty, had somehow stumbled into games that embarrassed and demeaned her, all for the boyfriend she adored. And the reason was painfully simple: she enjoyed them. I’d seen it in the way she lowered her gaze when she told me, in how she bit back a smile when she talked about him.

Adrián was a magnet for women. He had that gift for wrapping them around his little finger with his rogue charm and his irreverent way of looking at life. And I myself could testify to just how far that magnetism could go, because a grown, sensible woman, mistress of herself, had been capable of losing her head over him.

What on earth made me do it.

I’d spent the whole morning cleaning the house for the umpteenth time, trying in vain not to think. But the image always came back the same: my partner’s son, naked, panting, taking advantage of me and my trust. I scrubbed the same pane of glass over and over as if I could erase the memory with the cloth.

Worst of all was that, deep down, I missed what I’d lost. The midnight confessions, the closeness, that easy complicity we’d had before everything went wrong. Maybe it was the same thing happening to Noelia. Maybe that was why neither of us could quite let him go.

Adrián hadn’t come near me again since then. I made myself perfectly clear the first night, and for once in his life he’d shown he understood the seriousness of what he’d done. During those weeks he kept his distance, giving me the space I’d demanded, disappearing during the day and coming back just in time for dinner. It was the best thing for a household that could blow up at any moment.

Daniel was still away on a trip, as usual. The whole house felt heavy without him.

***

That night, Adrián came home late, as usual. But this time he didn’t go straight to his room or to the kitchen, where he usually picked up the plate I’d left covered for him. He came into the living room and sat down on the sofa, a handspan away from me. I tensed the second I felt his weight sink into the cushion. I crossed and uncrossed my legs, but I didn’t look up from my book.

—Can we talk? —he said.

I ignored him. He waited with his hands between his knees, pressing them together, uncomfortable in a situation he wasn’t used to. The wall clock marked the seconds with a ticking that suddenly sounded enormous.

—Yesterday I talked to Noelia. —He left the sentence hanging in the air. I turned a page—. She told me I almost caught you naked in the bathroom.

I didn’t move a muscle. All that was missing was a dripping tap to make the silence unbearable.

—I had to improvise an excuse —he added at last—. Your girl is smarter than she looks.

—Yes —he answered, relieved to see a crack opening—. Maybe that’s why I like her so much.

—Take care of her —I said without looking at him—. She won’t always love you the way she does now.

—Yeah. Don’t worry about that.

The silence settled between us again. Adrián cleared his throat before trying once more.

—About the other day…

—Let it go. It was my fault.

—Don’t say that.

—For letting something so outrageous happen. —I snorted—. What was I thinking?

—That you were helping me. I had a problem and you lent me a hand —he said, obliging—. And everything turned out fine. I don’t know why you’re taking it so damn seriously.

—No, it didn’t turn out fine. It was a blow job. A real blow job.

—Come on. Over a handjob?

I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead hard, lost in thought. I heard myself mutter under my breath, almost without meaning to.

—Masturbating my partner’s son. I really have to be…

—Helping —he corrected, softening his tone—. Helping your partner’s son with a serious problem. I’m really sorry it affected you that much.

—Because you went too far. —I fixed my gaze on him for the first time—. You went way, way too far.

—I was beside myself. I was coming like never before…

—You put your finger in me, for fuck’s sake! —My voice broke with sheer rage.

—I’m sorry, all right? That’s exactly what I’m trying to tell you. I was coming with the most horny woman I know in my hands and… I lost control. What do you want me to say? Do you know what you mean to me?

—Nothing. Less than nothing. My father’s slut, jerking you off like an idiot.

—No, fuck, no. You mean everything. —He rubbed his temple, searching for words he didn’t even have himself—. Always so sure of yourself, with that intimidating character of yours, the kind that’s even a little scary, but makes you feel safe. And I’m a horny nineteen-year-old kid. I didn’t think about the consequences.

—The consequences. Right. You never think about the consequences.

He shifted on the seat, inching a little closer.

—I went too far. I did what I shouldn’t have —he admitted—. I thought I could get that out of you, and I was wrong because I’m an idiot.

—Because you’re a shameless pig.

—An idiot and a pig. Fine. I admit it.

—Do you know how you made me feel? What that day means to me?

He lowered his head. —I can imagine.

—Like a whore. —I had to swallow so the knot in my throat wouldn’t show—. Jerking off my partner’s son while he had his finger inside me. —I closed my eyes again—. But how did I let you talk me into something like that?

And the memory hit me whole, without asking permission: his ragged breathing against my neck, my hand moving up and down with a rhythm I no longer recognized as my own, the heat of his young body pressed to mine, shame and desire intertwined so tightly I could no longer tell where one ended and the other began. And then that fingertip sliding where it shouldn’t, that instant when my body got there before my mind and, for one endless second, I didn’t want him to stop.

—I didn’t go that far, Lorena, come on. Don’t exaggerate. I barely touched you with the tip.

—I felt you inside me. You were thrusting. It wasn’t just the tip.

—I swear it was, just the fingertip. I swear. —He leaned a little closer—. And I really regret it. Truly.

He arched his eyebrows and made puppy-dog eyes, trying to soften me up. I didn’t know whether I was going to forgive him or smack his face with a slap. The veins in my neck pulsed like tight strings. In the end I did neither. I stood up, angry, and went to the window, pushing my hair away from my temple.

I needed air.

***

Adrián moved behind me, about an arm’s length away.

—Lorena, please —he whispered—. Tell me what I have to do to fix this.

I didn’t answer. I paced back and forth in front of the picture window like a caged tigress. I needed to think, to do it calmly, but above all I needed to be alone, and he wasn’t leaving. I breathed in hard and let the air out slowly, expelling all my frustration through my mouth. He waited patiently, not crowding me, letting the seconds fall one after another.

—You know what’s the worst part? —he said after a while—. That with all this misery I still can’t end things with Noelia. Now, when I’m with her, she isn’t the one on my mind. It’s you. —I thought he glanced at me from the corner of his eye—. What happened with you is killing me, and it makes my problem stay the same or even worse. What irony, huh?

I wrapped my arms around myself, watching him out of the corner of my eye, weighing how much truth there was in that confession. He kept his face stricken, the exact expression of a loser with a wounded pride. I tilted my chin from side to side, reading him, still not fully trusting him.

—I haven’t been able to sleep either —I admitted at last, my eyes fixed on the glass.

And I’d swear I saw, reflected in the window, half a smile slip across his face before he erased it.

He took a step and stopped just behind me. He stayed there, motionless, waiting for me to get used to his presence. The moment I felt his palms on my shoulders I turned to face him, defiant. I wasn’t going to forgive him.

But he pulled out one of his most effective tricks. He took my hands and held them between his with care, never letting go of that remorseful-man expression.

—I fucked up —he said—. With the person who least deserved it. —He paused deliberately—. And the one who has always treated me best.

I didn’t react. I held my ground, meeting the gaze of a boy used to slipping away from consequences. In the end I raised one eyebrow.

—And that’s it? You think that fixes everything?

—N-no, of course not —he replied, confused—. But I wanted you to know. That I can’t sleep either. I spend the nights tossing and turning. —Another pause—. As much of a pig and an idiot as I am.

A faint smile escaped me, and I wiped it away at once by turning my face aside.

Silence returned, but this time like a bridge between two people beginning to find common ground again.

—Come on, tell me. What do I have to do?

—You can’t do anything, Adrián. What happened happened, and it stays there forever.

At least my tone wasn’t sharp anymore. Something had changed.

—Then tell me how we get back to how we were before —he begged—. I miss the good vibe we had. The morning banter, the laughter… —He squeezed my hands with just the right dose of tenderness—. I want my best friend back.

The watery shine that rose to my eyes I hid with a quick blink, but he caught it on the fly. He’d hit the mark dead on: the perfect line at the perfect moment. He waited a few seconds to give what came next more weight, looked me straight in the eye, and pulled the trigger right to the chest.

—Can I give you a hug? I miss you.

I was thrown off balance. I gaped, undecided, barely able to hold that gaze that laid bare the softer side of him.

Alone, without Daniel, hungry for the kind of close affection I hadn’t enjoyed in weeks, I received his arms like ripe fruit. The heat of his body wrapped around me with exactly the sensation I needed. I closed my eyes and let myself be pulled toward him, surrendering to that peace I was so grateful for, the same peace that used to make me sleep straight through every night.

We stayed like that for a good while, as long as I allowed myself. When we pulled apart, I had recovered some of my composure and stepped back to make space between us.

—This doesn’t mean I forgive you.

He smiled, resigned, and shrugged.

—I’ll settle for being your friend again.

—Sure. Friends. —A conspiratorial smile, though it made perfectly clear the line he would never cross again.

***

We stayed looking at each other for a moment, renewed, letting the emotions settle down.

—Hey —Adrián started—. I’m not going to be able to repair what I did, but at least I can make it up to you a little.

I raised an eyebrow. I already knew his tricks.

—Let me take you out to dinner.

That was not what I’d expected. Adrián was a kid of books, his phone, his mates, and weekend parties. Taking someone out to dinner was grown-up stuff.

—And you’re going to put on a suit to take me to some fancy place?

—Well, let’s see… a suit, a suit… I was thinking more of the burger joint in the industrial estate.

I looked at him, waiting, until I realized he was serious. The laugh burst out of me on its own and finally broke the last of the tension left in the living room. Even he looked surprised, and a faint flush rose to his cheeks.

—Sorry, I couldn’t help it —I said, covering my mouth—. It’s just so… tacky. You’re asking my forgiveness by inviting me to the burger joint in the industrial estate, next to the bazaar?

—And what’s wrong with that? Hey, I’m not a millionaire. Besides, it was Noelia’s idea. Otherwise why would I be here trying to drag you out of the house?

—Noelia? She asked you to take me out to dinner?

—Of course. She adores you. And I think it’s my fault, talking about you so much.

I raised a suspicious eyebrow.

—It’s true, I swear. She’s got you on a pedestal. To her, you’re like… I don’t know, the heroine in those action movies who saves the world.

Another laugh that I tried to smother with my hand.

—And the hero you save is you, I suppose?

—Okay, forget it, that wasn’t my best example.

—It certainly wasn’t. What a childish comparison.

Another silence, but different now. The mood had changed completely; the teasing and the complicity were slowly finding their place again.

—So, what do you say? Are you coming or not? A mate of mine works there and gets me the fries for free.

By then, no matter how much I covered my mouth, I couldn’t stop laughing. My eyes, nearly shut, filled with tears.

Teenagers. And me, letting myself be pulled along again. This isn’t going to end well, I thought. And even so, I grabbed my coat.