Confessions

I was twenty-one and had never been with a trans woman. Valentina changed that in one night with her body, her calm, and the way she guided me without judgment.

The professor stopped under the trees and slipped his hand under my skirt. It was the first time someone had touched me like that, and I didn’t want him to stop.

Marcos arrived on time in his dark suit, smelling of expensive cologne. When I closed the apartment door, I knew we were both about to cross a line.

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.

I spent the night unable to sleep, phone in hand, waiting for her call. I had staked everything on that letter, and I didn’t know if I had lost it all.

When Rodrigo arrived with “him,” it took me several minutes to understand that that perfect body and those hips belonged to a man. That night everything changed.

When the storm cut the lights and thunder shook the walls, she curled up against me. It had been years since she’d felt anyone’s heat. That changed everything.

I’d spent days with that fantasy spinning in my head. When Héctor showed up at the empty court, I knew the night would end differently.

We’d been talking online for months before we met in person. When I saw him at the theater entrance, I knew that night wasn’t going to end the way I’d planned.

I dialed his number with trembling hands. Three rings. When he answered, I knew there was no turning back, even if I hung up before speaking.

She stepped out of the water thinking how good it felt to be alone and free. When she turned to the shore, her clothes, backpack, and boots were gone.

We had been talking for three weeks without meeting. When I finally crossed the door to his apartment that night, I knew I wouldn’t come out the same.

At midnight, someone stopped outside my cell. I was still wearing my habit, and the candle was still burning on the altar.

When I crossed the bridge and saw the woman in the black coat waiting for me, I knew nothing I wrote in my piece could tell the truth of that week.

For months I charged strangers, until a girl called to lose her virginity with me. That afternoon, I understood almost everything.

It wasn’t the first time I’d thought about crossing that hallway, but it was the first time my feet moved before my head did. The whole house was asleep and I wasn’t.

When my son went upstairs to sleep, he got up from the sofa and looked at me as if he had spent the whole night waiting for us to be alone.

That night, while I was stroking him in bed, he stopped me and asked me to tell him what the other man was like. I never imagined my confession would change our bed.

I turned off the light, locked the door, and for the first time let myself fantasize without censorship. What I discovered that night changed the way I look in the mirror.

When I whispered in his ear what I’d been imagining for months, his silence lasted seconds. Then he smiled. And I knew that night we were crossing every line.