The Neighbor Who Came Back to the Neighborhood Ten Years Later

For most people, the university years end up turning into a blurry memory, a succession of faces and classrooms that fade with time. In my case, it wasn’t like that. There was one person I could never forget, no matter how many others I met later on. Noelia always had a separate place in my memory, a place no one else ever reached.

She was my neighbor. A woman in her mid-forties, with the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen in my life and hair so pale, almost albino blonde, that it seemed lit from within. She had a tiny bookstore two blocks from my house, and I’d invent any excuse to go in: that I needed a book for college, that I was looking for a notebook, anything. I never understood why she spent so long talking with me, but I didn’t care enough to find out either.

Back then I was a shy, lonely girl. I carried the weight of a horrible high school, full of mockery and silence, and the only hour of the day I looked forward to was the one I spent among her shelves. Noelia understood me in a way no one else managed. At first I thought she was just kind, almost maternal. But little by little, without realizing it, I started to desire her in a different way.

I was passionate about poetry, the kind my classmates despised and that, for her, was a treasure. One afternoon I left her my notebook of verses under the pretext that I was embarrassed for others to see it. Noelia loved that we shared that little secret. What I hadn’t taken into account was her husband.

Rubén was a hardened drunk. One night he came home drunk, found the notebook, and filled it with insults, convinced it belonged to a lover. The next day Noelia told me everything, trembling, and said she could no longer keep my poems. I felt an urgent need to fix it, so I went to look for him at his workshop.

—Please, don’t be angry with her. The notebook is mine, look at my handwriting —I told him, showing him my notebooks with my voice breaking.

—That’s enough, I don’t care anymore —he replied without looking up—. Go home.

He treated me like a child, and that hurt me more than any insult. That man who barely set foot in his own house, who never listened to Noelia, who worked two days a week at most, looked down on me. I’m not giving up. Never.

From then on I learned his schedule. I knew what time he left and that he wouldn’t come back until after dawn. And in that window, I went into action.

***

One afternoon I stayed until nearly nightfall. Noelia let me in and asked me to wait for her, that she needed to shower. Curious and shameless, I couldn’t resist the temptation to look through the crack in the door.

Her breasts were enormous, and I watched them hypnotized while the water ran over her skin. Her body was voluptuous, generous, made to be looked at. I saw her bend down to shave her legs, saw the curve of her hips, that white, soft skin that seemed never to have known the sun. When she reached for the towel, I ran back to the armchair in the entryway, my heart pounding against my ribs.

She came out without a bra, wearing a turquoise cotton T-shirt and jeans that clung to every part of her body. I stared at her, dazzled, and, pretending innocence, asked if I could comb her hair. She agreed. Strand by strand, I untangled her hair as if I were touching something sacred, pausing every now and then to caress the nape of her neck. She smiled, pleased. My mind was elsewhere, on things I didn’t even know how to name yet.

—Did you write any new poems? —she asked me.

—I wrote something. But you told me I couldn’t show them to you anymore. Rubén’s going to get angry again.

—I don’t care what he says anymore. He always ruined everything that made me happy. You’re a brilliant girl, don’t let people like that dim you.

—Do you want me to write you something now? —I said, without thinking.

—I don’t know, you just got back from college, you must be tired.

—Being with you makes me feel good. The chocolate you made me is enough for inspiration.

I took a sheet of paper and a pen from my bag. I paused to find the words and started writing something deliberately risqué, verses about golden hair and forbidden lips, about fingers tracing alabaster skin. When I recited it to her with my eyes on hers, I knew she understood perfectly who I was talking about.

—You made me fly —she murmured—. Where do you get so many beautiful words?

—From the soul.

—Come here, I want to tell you something.

I thought she would kiss me, that something would change between us that night. But she only hugged me and stroked my hair, as if I were still that frightened little girl from the bookstore. It didn’t matter. My body registered something else: a tingling between my legs I couldn’t explain, a new heat. That desire for Noelia was something I would never speak about to anyone.

***

Noelia carried an enormous loneliness. She watched her two daughters leave home too soon, after men who didn’t deserve them, and a sadness settled in her eyes and never left. A good woman, devoted to her home, and they repaid her with a drunken husband who cheated on her on top of everything else.

On the least expected day, she packed her bags and moved to a lost little town far away from everything. I found out later that she had rebuilt her life there, that she had something close to peace. When I learned it, I pretended to be happy. Then I locked myself in the bathroom and cried until I used up the whole roll of toilet paper. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that my only refuge had left without leaving a number, an address, anything.

Every time I passed in front of that empty house I felt the pain of a shot in my chest. I didn’t even greet Rubén out of politeness; he was my eternal rival, the one to blame for everything, and in silence I wished him the worst.

But life went on, as it always does. I fell in love several times, without any story leaving a real mark. I stumbled, I forgave, I finished my studies. I became passionate about music and, with a lot of effort, I became a professional singer and managed to move into my own apartment.

***

One afternoon I went to visit my mother. And by chance, between one sentence and the next, my world came crashing down.

—Your friend came back —said Marta, my mother, as if commenting on the weather.

—What? Who?

—Noelia. Don’t you remember? You were glued to her.

—Mom, don’t say it like that.

—But it’s the truth. I think you trusted her more than you trusted me.

—We were friends, that’s all. Didn’t you realize how alone that woman was?

—Of course I did. Your heart was always very noble. Do you know why she came back?

—No idea —I said, with feigned indifference, while everything inside me was shaking.

My mother, who reads me like an open book, detected my need in the silence that followed.

—What if we go see her? I have to stop by the market anyway. If she’s there, we’ll say hello.

—Whatever you want —I replied, holding back the urge to run.

We walked the same two blocks as always. I nodded along to my mother’s trivial chatter while my whole body trembled and my hands turned cold. Before we got there, I took a deep breath, as if I were facing the most important stage of my life.

And there she was. Seeing her was a shock. The years hadn’t touched her: she still looked the same, still impossible. I greeted her shyly, but she hugged me at once.

—So good to see you! —she exclaimed.

—Noelia!

Her kiss on my cheek was long, intense, as if it were hard for her to pull away. My mother exchanged a couple of welcoming phrases and immediately made the perfect excuse: she had to cook before my father got home, and if it wasn’t a bother, I could stay.

—Never say that. Your company was always my lighthouse —Noelia replied.

There was a heavy silence, the kind that lends itself to a thousand interpretations. My mother said goodbye and left us alone.

***

—I always thought this moment would never come —said Noelia once inside.

I looked at her from the corner of my eye. The knot in my throat was starting to loosen. There were so many questions, so many feelings that had grown in her absence, and yet everything became simple beside her.

—I thought so too —I replied—. I thought everything I lived with you would be just a good memory.

She turned her face and her eyes sought mine with an intensity that left me breathless.

—I never stopped thinking about you. When I left, it was harder than I imagined. I’d stare out the window, waiting to see you, even though I knew you were in the city and that I couldn’t have you. In my head I kept repeating the same thing: “maybe in another life.”

Her confession filled me with a warmth I hadn’t felt in years. I leaned toward her, unable to stop the impulse.

—I could never forget you —I admitted—. Even when I had reasons to, I thought about you.

—It wasn’t only on your side. I always knew there was something between us, but I didn’t dare. You were much younger, just starting your life, and I was a mess. I convinced myself I had to leave those feelings behind. I never could.

—Why didn’t you tell me anything? —I asked, and the reproach slipped out on its own.

She drew in a breath before looking at me again.

—Because I was scared. Scared of what it meant, of what it would throw off. I felt like it was selfish to drag you into my need for love. I didn’t want you to pay for problems I was the one meant to solve. That’s why I went far away.

Every word touched a corner that had been silent for years. At last I understood why she’d left.

—And how do you feel now? —I asked, my voice barely audible.

—Like I came back to look for something I left unfinished. Something I want to explore, without the fear I used to have. I’m here, and I don’t plan on wasting it.

—Neither do I —I answered, while a stubborn tear wet my cheek—. I waited for this moment too long.

We fell silent again, but now it was different. Noelia leaned in slowly and our foreheads touched. There was no need to say anything else. Without preamble, I kissed her with everything I had, right there in the doorway, where anyone could see us. The thrill of knowing it made me burn even hotter.

—Come in, come in… My God, you’re so fiery. I didn’t know this side of you —she said, laughing.

I let her hair down, and her curls opened like a yellow lily. She kept kissing me while a tear rolled down her face; I wiped it away and hugged that huge, protective body I had imagined so many times.

I lifted her blouse and started kissing every part of her skin, repeating against her body that I loved her, that I would never stop loving her. She tipped her head back.

—Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.

I loved seeing how her white face filled with shyness and flushed red.

—Are you sure about this? —I asked her.

—Yes. Kiss me.

She took off my tank top and lifted me with her strong arms until I was sitting on the kitchen counter. She let my hair down, brought her nose close to smell it, and ran her tongue over my ear.

—At last I can have you.

—Don’t say that. You always had me.

She pressed her naked body against mine and started nibbling at my neck. I tilted my head, surrendered to every sensation, while with skill she unfastened my bra.

—How many times I dreamed of this —she murmured, taking my breasts into her mouth, her tongue drawing slow circles on my skin.

Pleasure tore a long sigh from me, my eyes closed and a smile I couldn’t hold back spreading across my face. Her soft fingers roamed over me, and I clung to her with near-desperate urgency.

—Come to bed —she said, and led me down the hallway without letting go of me.

She finished undressing me in an instant. My jeans ended up tossed in a corner. It was hot, both bodies were sweating, and I pushed my hips forward to tempt her, with the last garment marking everything on me.

—I’ve never experienced anything like this. It feels so good.

She went down between kisses until she stopped for a second, her eyes almost pleading.

—Sorry if I’m not an expert.

—Keep going, keep going. What a delicious tongue you have.

Then she tasted me shamelessly, with a frenzy no one had ever given me in all those years. When I came I was so wet I soaked the sheet, and I thought that was better: if the ex-husband ever showed up, he’d know exactly who had marked that territory.

—Now I want to feel you. I want to know what you’ve learned all this time —she said.

No sentence could have given me more pleasure. I tied her wrists with her own blouse, kissed her trembling, bit those porcelain breasts that bristled at the slightest contact.

—Don’t move —I ordered, licking her all over.

—How wild you are.

With my fingers I parted her lips and found her clit, tempting as a fruit. I started stimulating it with my mouth while I penetrated her slowly with my fingers, alternating a slow and a fast rhythm, completely given over to her pleasure. She moaned, gripped the sheets and arched her hips, searching for more, as if she could no longer stand so much need at once. I looked at her from below, my mouth wet and my pulse racing, thinking of all the years I had imagined this scene without even knowing its exact shape.

—Like this? Do you like it like this? —I asked her, looking up at her.

—Yes, like that, don’t stop, my love.

I kept licking her with more hunger, alternating the pressure of my tongue and the movement of my fingers. I wanted to hear her lose control, I wanted to drag every sound she’d been holding back out of her. Her thighs trembled around my head, and her breathing grew rough, broken, while I clung to her with one hand on her hip and the other buried between her legs, feeling how she opened for me without shame. The smell of her skin, the heat of her cunt, all of it had me drunk with desire.

—That’s it, Camila… like that… —she murmured, almost voiceless.

I sucked harder, until her hips began to shake violently and I had to hold her up so she wouldn’t collapse. The orgasm tore a low, long cry from her, and then she was left trembling, her back arched and her mouth half-open.

I took in her orgasm like nectar, hypnotized and hotter than ever. Then I knelt in front of her, we held each other and I laid her back down again. I lifted one of her legs and we began rubbing our sex against each other with desperation. Our breaths mingled, our nipples rubbed together, our hips collided in a rhythm clumsy at first and then more and more urgent. We stayed like that for a long while, tight together, sweating, seeking each other without rest, until pleasure dragged us both under again. I felt her wet cunt against mine, the savage heat of her belly, and she took my face in kisses as if she wanted to devour the years that were stolen from us.

When the second orgasm hit, Noelia came apart with a hoarse moan and I went after her, convulsing against her thigh, clinging to her waist with the desperation of someone who has finally stopped imagining and now has in her hands what she always wanted. We were left breathing in gasps, skin sticky and minds blank, staring at the ceiling as if the whole world had come with us.

***

Neither of us wanted to get dressed. But her ex was still possessive and would wander around the house from time to time, and I wasn’t about to expose myself to a bigger problem. So, reluctantly, we straightened our clothes. She fastened my bra while kissing the nape of my neck.

—Did you like it?

—You can’t even imagine. If it were up to me, I’d stay until dawn.

—You’re beautiful, Camila. I adore your wild side.

—The best part of me comes out when I’m with you.

We gave each other the deepest kiss in the world and the longest hug.

—I missed you so much —she said.

—You’re never going to be alone again, Noelia. I’m going to be here, to love you, take care of you, and defend you.

—I love you, and I always will.

—Me too.

I had to leave; my mother must have been worried already. Noelia opened the door, cut a flower from her garden, and tucked it into my jacket pocket. I melted at the gesture. I walked back home feeling that at last I had my breath again, my muse, my obsession. She, forever in my soul. Noelia.