Couple

We went up to hang the laundry under any pretext. Among the water tanks on the rooftop, I discovered she was as impatient as I was to stop pretending.

I knew something was wrong the second I saw his face when he came in. No greeting, just calculated coldness and an order: “Say out loud what you’re responsible for.”

It began with a twisted ankle on the court and ended many weeks later, one night when her house was empty and there was no longer any reason to hold back.

Our bedroom window faced his rooftop exactly. That night I realized the idea of being watched aroused me more than I’d ever admit.

I agreed to my boyfriend’s fantasy believing we’d both come out ahead. That night, while I was screaming in one room, he heard everything from the other side of the door.

I left the curtains open on purpose and pretended not to see him. He, standing on his rooftop, didn’t miss a single detail of my naked body.

Every week we stared at the photos by the entrance without daring to go in. The night we crossed that door, I discovered how far I could go with him watching me.

A yellow Post-it on the little box said just one word: “Play me.” It was two in the morning, and curiosity beat out the night’s accumulated exhaustion.

I turned on the system from the office just to keep an eye on the tools. What came up on the screen was my wife taking off her bikini in front of him.

—Marina, you won’t believe this: I went in to clean the room and there was a couple in the bed. And I just stood there watching from the doorway, unable to move.

I took my time handing her coat over, enjoying the way men looked at her. I never imagined one would dare that much in front of me.

My husband had spent two decades waiting for me to cross that line. I never imagined I’d do it on an ordinary afternoon, against the wall of my own office.

When I felt his gaze pinned to my back from the window across the way, I knew that afternoon I wasn’t going to buy bread—I was going to give him something much better.

I never thought that seeing another man look at my naked girlfriend, legs spread open on the sand, would be the most arousing thing I’d ever feel.

I let my dress fall on the balcony knowing he was watching from the other side of the glass. And I knew my husband had planned everything.

When the zipper came undone on her dress, I understood that night in the dressing room would change everything between us—and that I didn’t want it to stop.

We’d fantasized about it for months. As she went upstairs behind the waitress, I knew I was going to watch everything from the room next door.

We woke up naked, all three of us, and laughing, I remembered the exact moment everything changed: when I learned what Mariela was hiding under her skirt.

The hospital smelled of chlorine, but all she could breathe was the memory of calloused hands on her back—and the fear that Valeria wouldn’t open the door.

I smelled fresh coffee and knew the night before hadn’t been a dream. Yamila was still there, in my kitchen, her skin still warm with desire.