Forbidden

When I arrived at the restaurant in my black dress and lace lingerie, I already knew I wouldn’t leave as the faithful wife I pretended to be.

Two years had passed since the first time. When he replied to my message, I knew I was going to see him, even though something in me said I shouldn’t.

I lowered my skirt’s zipper without knowing he was watching from the window across the street. What began as embarrassment became a game.

I’m married. I’m straight. That was me when I walked into the mall bathroom. What I was fifteen minutes later, I’m not so sure anymore.

When she walked into her room naked except for the blouse, those white hips swaying, I knew I would never sleep in that house again without thinking of her.

She wore a dress she’d never have worn in front of my son, and after the second glass of wine she told me she preferred mature men in bed.

I never imagined that agreeing to partner swapping would end up revealing a secret my husband had kept since school.

From my wheelchair, I watched my wife step out of the car on my boss’s arm. And I knew, somehow, that I was about to be superfluous in my own marriage.

That September morning I saw the shyest girl in class walk in. It took me two weeks to realize the shy one wasn’t her, it was me.

When she invited me to dinner at her place, I thought she just wanted to thank me. I had no idea what she was hiding under that pencil skirt, or how far she was willing to go.

When she quickened her pace on the trail and caught up with him with a smile too wide for that hour, Mateo knew the sunrise would not be the only thing he saw at the summit.

The feel of her hand when she shook mine was like a jolt. I offered her a ride and, on that dirt road, discovered something I’d denied for years.

I went downstairs looking for Mateo and Ricardo, and what I found behind the half-open door left me rooted to the hallway floor, breathless and unable to look away.

I texted “Want to play?” from my fitting room. Five seconds later I slipped into hers, ready to make her come in silence before the saleswoman noticed.

At five to four I was naked in the armchair, staring at the window across from me and waiting for her to come out and close hers.

My sister was laughing while I told her what I’d read on my son’s WhatsApp, and I never imagined that afternoon would end with me kneeling in front of him.

When Daniela asked if she could sleep with me that night, I knew neither of us would wake up in the morning as the same woman who had arrived at the estate.

Carlos couldn’t see the half-open curtain. I could. And the blonde watching me from the other side never took her eyes off me either. My body decided before I did.

When she leaned over my desk to show me the file, her skirt rode up two inches. I couldn’t hide a thing anymore. She didn’t want me to.

Four days tied to his bed, twelve thousand euros richer, and a body that no longer resists the same way. The worst part isn’t what he does: it’s what starts shining in my eyes.