My Ex-Husband Had No Idea What I Had Become

There’s a version of me my ex-husband never knew. The woman he was married to for twelve years didn’t know how to ask for what she wanted, stayed still in the dark, and waited for him to finish. That woman disappeared the day Andrés packed his bags and left with Claudia, his new partner, without looking back. What came after took me time to discover, but once I did, there was no going back.

So when I came up with the idea, I enjoyed it even before I carried it out. I called him on a Tuesday afternoon and told him he had left one of his favorite T-shirts at the house. It was a lie, of course. There hadn’t been anything of his left between these walls for months, but he didn’t know that.

—Stop by and pick it up when you get off work —I said, with a calm I didn’t feel—. And stay for dinner; I owe you for the trouble.

He agreed too quickly. This is going to be easier than I thought.

I took care of every detail. I chose a pink lingerie set that fit me like a second skin and, over it, a dark blue dress that ended a hand’s width above the knee and had a neckline that left little to the imagination. I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled. The insecure woman he had grown tired of was no longer there.

Dinner unfolded between laughter and wine. We talked about old things, people we no longer saw, and all the while I noticed how his eyes kept dropping to my neckline and then lifting again, pretending they hadn’t. Every time I caught him, I looked away slowly, giving him permission without saying a word.

When we cleared the plates, we sat on the sofa. He let his eyes wander around the living room.

—You’ve hardly changed anything in the house —he remarked—. Everything’s exactly the same as when I left.

I moved closer, let my knee brush his, and lowered my voice until it was almost a whisper.

—You’re the one who’s changed. Claudia must take good care of you. You’ve never looked better.

I held his gaze a second too long and then closed the distance. The kiss was long, deep, the kind we used to give each other at the beginning, when we still didn’t know each other’s flaws. When I pulled away, I stroked his cheek.

—Relax —I told him—. This stays between us. Claudia doesn’t need to know.

I took his hand and led him to the bedroom. There I took off my dress without rushing and stood in front of him in my lingerie, letting him look at everything he’d lost.

—Wow —he murmured—. Not everything stayed the same. You’ve learned how to dress.

—Does Claudia wear underwear like this too? —I asked, turning slowly—. With her figure, it must suit her better than it does me.

—You look incredible —he said, his voice hoarse—. And I don’t want to think about her right now.

—All right. But then you have to do things to me you never did when we were married. I’m not your wife anymore. Tonight I’m one of those women you used to sleep with while you were still with me. —I lay back on the bed and spread my legs—. Start there.

He didn’t need asking twice. He slipped my thong down and off me and knelt between my thighs. When his tongue found me, I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out. It was nothing like I remembered; the bastard had learned, and learned well.

—Why didn’t you do this when we lived together? —I gasped, clutching the sheet.

He didn’t answer me. He kept exploring every inch with a new patience, reading my reactions, adjusting the rhythm until pleasure ripped me out of my body in a long convulsion. I came against his mouth without holding back.

But I hadn’t planned this to just lie still and receive. While he was still dressed from the waist down, I sat up, pushed him gently, and knelt in front of him. I unbuttoned his trousers, pulled them down with the rest, and let them fall to the floor.

—Raquel… —he began, using an old affectionate nickname, but I silenced him by taking him into my mouth.

—Where did you learn to do that? —he asked after a moment, his breathing ragged.

I paused just long enough to answer.

—You left me because you said I didn’t know how. I didn’t want that to happen to me again with anyone. So I set about practicing.

—Well, you did it —he groaned—. You’re amazing at it.

I heard him lose control little by little, those moans I’d never drawn from him in twelve years of marriage. He didn’t last much longer. When he finished, I swallowed everything and looked up at him from below, satisfied to see the mix of pleasure and guilt on his face.

It took him a while to react. Then, as if something had switched on inside him, he pushed me back onto the bed and slid his fingers inside me while asking in my ear how many men I’d known since he left, whether they were bigger or smaller, whether they were better than him.

—It’s been a bit of everything —I told him, writhing beneath his hand—. And lately there’s one who gives me more pleasure than you ever did.

That wasn’t entirely true, but watching his face change at the idea of competition made the lie worthwhile. His fingers moved with more anger, as if he wanted to prove something, and they took me to another orgasm that left me shaking.

—When we were married you weren’t this horny —he said, almost with resentment—. I think it’s time we do it.

—Fine —I replied—. But not like when we were a boring married couple.

He opened my legs wide and entered in one thrust. I lifted one foot to rest on his shoulder and he began to move with an intensity I hadn’t known in him. The idea of competing with a ghost had lit him up. I let myself go for a while, stroking my breasts, until I decided to remind him who was in charge tonight.

—Switch positions. I want to be on top.

He looked surprised, but he lay back. I sat on him and set the pace myself, slow at first, then relentless, staring him in the eyes while he came apart beneath me.

—Turn over —he finally asked, his voice broken—. I want to finish another way.

I got down on all fours on the mattress. He came up behind me and entered me slowly through a door we had never dared use when we were married. That gave it a new kind of filthiness, I could feel it in the way he gripped my hips. Pleasure reached me quickly; he held out a little longer, until he finished with a long groan and collapsed beside me.

We fell asleep. In the morning his hand woke me, searching for me between my legs again. Insatiable. I let him caress me until my body demanded more, and then I turned around, took him in my mouth again, and woke him all the way up.

—Fuck —he muttered through clenched teeth—. If you’d kissed me like that when we were married, I’d never have left.

We did it again, on our sides first, then with him on top, as if he were trying to reclaim territory that was no longer his. When we were both done, I got up and made breakfast. It was then, with the coffee in his hand, that he asked the question I had been expecting.

—Do you think we should give it another try?

I looked at him and felt something like freedom. Not the bitterness I would have felt a year earlier, but complete calm.

—Not at all —I said, and smiled—. Why settle for one dish when now I can choose the whole menu?

He left without insisting, with that look men get when they understand too late what they let slip away. I closed the door and took a deep breath. It wasn’t revenge; it was justice.

***

But that wasn’t my only story that week. A couple of days later, a short circuit killed the bedroom lamp. I called Gonzalo, a neighbor from the landing, who had a good hand for that sort of thing. He came right away and had it fixed in ten minutes.

—You don’t owe me anything —he said when I offered to pay him—. It was nothing.

But while he said it, his eyes weren’t on the lamp. They were on my neckline and my thighs, traveling over me with a shamelessness he thought he was hiding. Gonzalo wasn’t the most attractive man in the building, but I had already learned that someone’s desire for me was worth more than any pretty face. And the idea of collecting my favor another way seemed too tempting to pass up.

I moved closer, took his face in my hands, and kissed him. He froze for a second, not believing it, before answering with an urgency he’d been holding back for months.

—If you don’t tell Patricia anything —I said, referring to his wife—, I can pay you another way.

I unbuttoned my blouse slowly and revealed a purple bra that barely held me in. He made me sit on the sofa, knelt, and kissed me again while his hands roamed over me.

—You’ve got beautiful tits —he murmured against my neck.

—Patricia’s got big ones too —I said, just to hear the answer.

—But yours are something else.

From where I was, it was easy to pull his pants down. I took him in my mouth and devoted myself to him without rushing, listening to him moan louder and louder until he stopped me by grabbing my hair.

—Wait —he panted—. Now it’s my turn.

I took off my thong and he reclined me on the sofa. He knelt and buried his face between my legs, and it turned out he did it better than his appearance suggested. I came with a long moan, gripping his head. When he sat up, he found my mouth again.

—You have no idea how many times I’ve dreamed about this —he confessed—. I’d pass you in the lobby and want you. More than once I thought about you when I was with Patricia.

—Then stop dreaming —I answered, tugging him toward me—. I want you inside me.

I asked him to sit down and climbed on top. I started moving with an agility that surprised him; despite being a bit plump, I knew exactly how to ride a man so he’d think of nothing else.

—I haven’t enjoyed myself like this in ages —he said, gripping my hips—. With Patricia it’s always the same, always in the dark.

He couldn’t keep up with my rhythm for long. When he finished, I went to wash up, and when I came back I found him ready again, as if his body had come back to life. I sat on him again, this time with my back to him, and set a slower, deeper pace.

—I’d love to do this with my wife —he murmured, and the sad sincerity of it almost made me laugh.

When he felt I was close, he told me so. I got down, knelt in front of him, and let him finish like that, part in my mouth, part on my skin. He looked at me like someone who doesn’t understand how he ended up there.

We rested for a while, talking about nothing, and then he asked, with the shyness of someone making an impossible request:

—Do you do it from behind too? Patricia and I haven’t in years.

—If that’s what you want —I said.

I got on all fours on the bed and he caressed me slowly before entering.

—When I saw you walking down the hallway, I used to wonder what this would be like —he said—. Reality has surpassed what I imagined.

I was used to that kind of visit, so there was no pain, only pleasure that kept growing with every thrust. For a good while, the only thing to be heard was our breathing. I came before he did; he followed soon after, holding me tightly.

He dressed in silence, still dazed. At the door he turned with an awkward smile.

—If anything ever breaks down, don’t hesitate to call me. Anything at all.

—I’ll keep that in mind —I replied, and closed the door.

I was left alone in the living room, with a glass of wine and the calm certainty that this woman I had become was never going to ask anyone’s permission again. Andrés had left thinking he was leaving me broken. What he actually did was set me free. And I had finally learned how to enjoy it.