Farewell

Her suitcases were in the car and her resignation was in hand. She only had one more door to cross before starting over—and that door changed everything.

Under the torch I go over my sketches and feel my body burning for her. My contract is ending, and I already know one thing: I’m not leaving this jungle without Yuma by my side.

While you slept off the booze in the room, I slipped barefoot down the hotel corridor to discover in his arms what you could no longer give me.

I thought I’d pay up with a kiss or a joke. Instead, my friend dared me to show up as an escort at his best friend’s bachelor party.

I wake up beside Lorena thinking about everything that’s happened this week, never imagining the last day would hold the most intense surprise of all.

I had adored her in silence since childhood. The night before she left, she asked me to help her undress, and my hands trembled as they finally brushed her skin.

I heard her closing her suitcases on the other side of the wall and knew she would leave with the dawn. Barefoot and trembling, I crossed the hallway to the ajar door of her room.

Take down the photos, hide my clothes, conceal the webcam, and hide in the ironing room: that night my wife would bring home a stranger and I’d be the only witness.

The night she threw me out, I dreamed of my own corpse rotting in an empty workshop. I woke up soaked in tears, with her asleep a handspan from my skin.

I came out of the bathroom with my bikini half unfastened and he was there, drying his hair. We froze. What happened next still makes me smile.

I walked into the room dressed as a mime, wearing a trench coat over my lingerie and knowing I was about to do something I’d never regret.

Iván was still asleep in my arms when a noise in the hallway pulled me out of bed. I had no idea the last day would be the hottest of all.

We crossed the apartment threshold knowing we had two hours left, and he lunged at me before I could set the keys on the table.

Unai’s suitcase was packed, but before crossing the ocean there was one last night left: four bodies, two harnesses, and a goodbye none of them would ever forget.

He told me to close my eyes in front of the shop window. When I opened them, I knew Hugo wanted to see me turned into something I’d always wanted to be but never dared say out loud.

I woke up certain it had only been a steamy nightmare. Then I saw the box on the living-room table, just like in the dream, and the coffee slipped from my hands.

There were five of us and a town by the sea. What began as a joke over laughter and beer became the weekend that changed everything between us.

When they carried him to bed asleep, I knew that night wouldn’t end like the others. And I regret nothing that happened after.

I opened the door wrapped in a towel, still wet, convinced it was a package. It was him, with flowers in one hand and a smile that promised nothing innocent.

On the last night before becoming mortal, she curled up between her two divine mothers, knowing that at dawn she would have to bury everything she was under layers of plain cloth.