What Happened with My Ex’s Parents in Nerja

Ernesto and Valeria had been together since they were teenagers, and it showed. Not because they had aged badly —quite the opposite— but because of that kind of complicity that only gets built over decades of living together. Ernesto was fifty-six, a retired firefighter, six foot, broad back, gray hair cut close to the scalp. A man of few words and a lot of presence, the kind who doesn’t need to raise his voice for you to notice he’s in the room.

Valeria was fifty-one. A Pilates instructor for more than twenty years, and her body told the story without hiding a thing: five foot eight, long legs, defined waist, generous breasts that defied gravity, and an ass that had once been the cause of more than one distraction among the school parents. Ash-blonde hair, short, with that slightly tousled texture that gives off an easygoing air. Light eyes that always looked far too calm.

They were Nuria’s parents, my first girlfriend. We were thirteen when we started and fourteen when we ended, the way those kid things end, without drama. We lived on the same street. Ernesto inspired respect in me. Valeria, when she passed through the school corridors in her sports clothes, made us teenagers forget we existed.

I ran into them in Torremolinos one July night, on a terrace facing the seafront promenade. I was thirty-two. They hadn’t changed as much as I’d expected. The three of us were genuinely surprised, and we sat down together for a drink.

From the start, Valeria was uneasy. She had one hand resting on her own wrist, the gesture of someone who would rather be somewhere else and doesn’t know how to say it. Ernesto, on the other hand, was expansive, truly pleased, with that good humor that comes from the satisfaction of something well planned.

—Marcos, kid. You already had a good build, but now you’re an animal —he said, looking me up and down with no shame at all—. How long have you been grinding away?

I told him less than before, that I hadn’t found a gym I liked in the new neighborhood. He pointed at his wife with his thumb.

—This one never stops. She spends the whole day teaching classes and gets paid for it too. I envy her.

Valeria gave a smile without lifting her eyes from her glass.

They told me Nuria had gotten married, that she lived in the north, that she was preparing for civil service exams. The conversation flowed with the naturalness of people who share a past without too many knots in it. At some point, without having planned it, I mentioned that I was thinking of heading to Nerja that weekend, to a family apartment that had been closed for years.

—We love Nerja —said Ernesto at once—. Much quieter than all this.

—Well, if you want to come with me... It’s two and a half hours. If we leave Friday at eight we’ll get there in time for dinner, and I’ll call to reserve a table.

Valeria said something soft about not wanting to be a bother, about it being too much trouble for me. Ernesto was already saying it sounded like a great idea.

***

On Friday I drove. Ernesto in the passenger seat, Valeria in the back with sunglasses on and not much to say. During the trip only her husband and I talked. She answered when asked directly, with that soft, measured voice that hadn’t changed at all since she was the mother of my fourteen-year-old girlfriend. I had the sense she was looking at me from the back seat, but I couldn’t be sure.

The apartment had a terrace with a sea view. When Valeria saw it, something relaxed in her face, though not by much.

In the afternoon, Ernesto and I went down to the beach. A nudist beach, I told him on the way. He shrugged and took off his swim trunks without a fuss. Another sign of someone used to things others would consider uncomfortable.

There were two men with physiques that drew attention. Ernesto saw them and muttered something about bringing your woman to certain places being risky. Then he saw me take off my swim trunks and went quiet for a moment.

—Marcos, for God’s sake. With that on you, in Loch Ness you’d be the monster of the waters.

We went back up. Valeria was on the terrace in a bikini, sunbathing. As soon as she heard us come in she stood up and threw a beach dress on over it. I had just enough time to see what was underneath: that ass that had occupied half a generation of teenage dreams twenty years ago was still exactly what it had promised to be.

***

That night Ernesto didn’t want to go out. He said he’d rather stay in the apartment, that it was quieter. We opened wine. Valeria went to the bathroom and came back with a thin T-shirt over her bikini. She sat in the armchair in the corner, far from us, glass in hand.

The conversation began to drift in its own direction with the slowness of something headed somewhere decided in advance. Ernesto started with double-edged comments, almost innocent. Valeria ignored them. Until he stopped being subtle.

—Marcos, what’s your favorite position?

The silence that followed was dense, almost solid.

Valeria looked at him as if he’d grown a second head.

—Ernesto. What’s wrong with you?

—Nothing, darling. I’m just curious. Marcos is an adult man, I’m sure he has standards.

I looked at Valeria. Beneath the panic there was something else. A glint I couldn’t quite define, but it was there, unmistakable.

—It depends on the woman —I said at last—. Every woman has her preferences.

—Exactly! —he lightly tapped the sofa arm—. That’s why I’m asking. What works best for you? That she gives herself completely? That you’re in control?

Valeria set her glass on the table and went out onto the terrace.

Ernesto and I were left alone. He leaned back on the sofa with the expression of someone who has been waiting a long time for this exact moment.

—You’ve got her scared —he told me—. But excited too. She’s spent years asking for something I don’t give her like I used to. Don’t play dumb with me, Marcos: she’s been looking at you since you got here. Her cunt’s been soaked since she saw you at the door.

—Why are you doing this?

—Because I saw you on the beach —he answered, plain and simple—. With that cock, kid, my wife’s going to lose her mind. And I’ve spent years waiting to see her lose her mind.

Valeria came back in. Her hair was a little mussed from the wind. She sat down, looked at the two of us and asked us to change the subject.

—Of course —said Ernesto—. As soon as Marcos answers.

I answered. I talked about control, about presence, about sex given with desire versus sex given out of habit. While I spoke, Valeria rubbed her thighs without fully realizing it. Ernesto saw it. So did I.

—And what do you like, Valeria? —he asked, handing her back her glass—. Being dominated? Having nowhere to escape? Getting fucked the way a woman with your body deserves?

She took several seconds.

—Sometimes —she said, in a voice that wasn’t her usual one—. Sometimes I do like it.

Ernesto got up, turned her around and pulled off her T-shirt before she could react. Valeria resisted, but the movement was quick and decisive. She was left in just the bikini top, and then he pulled that off too.

It was like flipping a switch. Valeria stood up, looked her husband in the eyes and said:

—Idiot. This is what you wanted.

Then she looked at me. Her dark nipples were pointed up, thick, so hard they looked painful. Her breathing had become faster and there was no trace left of the discreet schoolmother.

—And you, Marcos? Are you going to make me wait all night, or do you want to prove whether what Ernesto says is true?

***

She came up to me slowly, with that way of moving women have when they know their own bodies well. She wrapped her arms around me, pressed her naked tits against my chest and kissed me with an urgency she’d been carrying for years. Her tongue didn’t ask permission: it came into my mouth searching, biting, sucking, with a hunger that made her throat tremble. I felt her nipples dig into me through my shirt, two hard tips moving with every breath.

—Take it out —she whispered in my ear, biting my earlobe, her voice low and rough—. Take it out now, Marcos. I want to see it.

I opened my pants. When my cock sprang free, already swollen, thick and glistening at the tip, she stepped back to look and her eyes said the same thing Ernesto had said on the beach. She brought a hand to her mouth. With the other she grabbed a breast, squeezing it without realizing it.

—My God —she murmured—. You weren’t exaggerating at all, Ernesto. It’s... it’s huge. Fuck.

Ernesto, sitting at the far end of the sofa, had taken his out and started masturbating in silence, eyes fixed on us and a clear drop already beading at the tip.

—Suck it, darling —he told his wife, his voice breaking—. Take it all the way in. Show that kid how real women suck cock.

—You shut up and watch —she replied without turning around.

She knelt in front of me and took her time. Not with the rush of someone wanting to get it over with, but with the calm of someone who knows anticipation is worth more than anything else. She took the base with both hands, as if measuring it, weighing it. She stuck out her tongue and ran the tip very slowly from my balls to the head, without actually putting it in her mouth. She repeated the same path three times, each time slower, until a groan escaped me that made her smile.

—That’s it. Let him suffer a little. You too.

She spat on the tip and spread the spit with her palm, jerking me off with a skill that completely dismantled the image of the discreet lady I had kept for twenty years. Then she took me into her mouth halfway, pulled back, went in a little deeper, back out, until the fourth or fifth time she swallowed me whole and I felt her throat close around the head. She looked up at me from below with teary eyes, not pulling away, holding there for several seconds before withdrawing with a long strand of saliva hanging from her chin.

—Fuck, darling —murmured Ernesto—. You’ve never done that to me like that.

—Because you’ve never needed it —she answered, without stopping jerking me with her hand as she spoke—. This kid does. With what’s hanging off him, he’s earned it.

She bent down again and this time she sucked me without mercy. She licked my balls one by one, took them whole into her mouth, worked up the shaft with a flat tongue, closed her lips over the head and sucked with a wet sound that filled the living room. I grabbed her nape and she let me set the pace, fucking her mouth slowly at first, faster after. Saliva dripped from her chin onto her breasts, and when I let her go to breathe she had to pull back coughing, her whole face shining.

—Enough —she said, panting—. Enough or you’ll cum in my mouth and I want that inside me. Now.

She pushed me toward the sofa. She stripped off the rest of her bikini with a quick movement and stood there in front of us: blond pubic mound, trimmed, and between her legs, swollen, glossy lips so wet you could see the string hanging from her clit.

—See what you’ve done to me? —she asked, slipping two fingers between her legs and spreading her lips so we could see it properly—. Look how I am. It’s dripping. It’s running down my thighs. That’s yours if you want it.

She climbed onto me astride. She took my cock in her hand and rubbed it slowly against her lips, up and down, soaking the head in her own fluid, laughing with her mouth open every time the tip brushed her clit.

—Wait —Ernesto said from the sofa—. Put it in slowly. I want to see everything.

For once, she obeyed. She placed the tip at the entrance and came down millimeter by millimeter, teeth clenched, moaning in a long, deep way as she filled up. I felt her opening by force, resisting, giving way, tightening again. When she reached the bottom, with her ass resting on my thighs, we both stayed still for a moment, getting used to it.

—Fuck —she said, voice broken—. Fuck, fuck. You fill me right to the bottom. You reach my uterus, asshole. I’ve never had one this deep.

She started moving. Slow at first, lifting and lowering her hips with her eyes closed, feeling every inch. Then with more energy, bracing her hands on my shoulders for leverage, and finally with a fury and force I wouldn’t have expected from someone I’d known speaking softly in school hallways. She rode me with all her hips, letting herself drop with her full weight, and each time she landed a guttural, almost animal moan escaped her.

Her tits bounced with every movement, heavy, full, nipples pointing in different directions each time. I grabbed them with both hands and squeezed, pinching her nipples, and she threw her head back and screamed.

—Yes, yes, like that, harder, hurt me, fuck, keep going.

Ernesto was groaning softly at the back, his cock shining in his fist, mouth open.

—Look at her, Marcos —he panted—. Look how she’s taking it. My wife, kid. Fucking a thirty-year-old cock. So filthy she can’t help herself. Keep going, darling, cum for him.

—Shut up —she snapped at him, without stopping the bounce—. Shut up or I’ll shut you up. This is mine now.

I grabbed her ass with both hands, spread it, and started pushing up to meet her thrusts from below. The sofa beneath us started creaking. Valeria’s thighs slapped against mine with a wet sound that filled the room. I ran my tongue over one nipple, bit it, tugged, and she convulsed all over.

Valeria’s orgasm was long and loud. She screamed, not caring about anything, hips clenched against mine, cunt tightening over the cock in spasms I felt one by one, trembling from head to toe. She dug her nails into my shoulders and kept screaming until she went hoarse. When it was over she didn’t stop. She moved even faster, with more urgency, as if the first one had only been the warm-up.

—Again, again, almost there, don’t stop, cum inside, cum inside with me, I want to feel it hot, fuck fuck fuck...

I grabbed her by the hips and slammed her down onto me, pulling her downward while I drove up from the base. I came inside her in a long surge that left me empty, feeling her pussy contract at the same time, milking me, stealing the very last drop. She collapsed onto my chest, panting into my neck, sweat sticking her hair to her forehead.

We stayed locked together for a moment, not moving, until our breathing got back to something close to normal. When she stood up, a thick white strand began to slide down the inner side of her thigh.

Ernesto had come too. He had his stomach and hand covered, his cock still hard, and he was looking at us with a look of complete satisfaction.

—That’s what I wanted to see —he said, voice rough—. Exactly that. Thank you, darling.

***

Valeria got up, went to her husband and, with a smile that was anything but sweet, told him what was expected of him. She stood with her legs apart, one hand on the back of the sofa and the other spreading her lips open, and pointed to the semen beginning to run out of her.

—Clean it off. With your tongue. All of it.

Ernesto obeyed with a devotion that betrayed years of practice. He knelt, ran his tongue along the inside of her thigh collecting the strand, went up, buried his face in her cunt and started sucking with his eyes closed. She held his head and guided him, pressing his nose against her clit, moving him away when it suited her.

—Swallow it all. Suck me well. Don’t leave any of him inside me. That’s it. Good boy.

He took care of cleaning up the mess they’d made together while Valeria watched him with a hand on her own breast and a satisfied expression.

When he finished, without anyone asking him to, Ernesto turned to me and went to his knees between my legs. I looked at Valeria. She raised an eyebrow.

—Ever since he saw you on the beach he’s been crazy for this —she said, as if explaining everything—. Let him. He’s earned a prize.

I let him do it. He took my cock, still smeared with her and me, and put it in his mouth without hesitation, sucking it with the same concentration he’d used to clean his wife. The situation had no name in any manual, but it had its own internal logic. Valeria watched him standing there, arms crossed, giving him short instructions.

—Lower. The balls too. Put them in your mouth. That’s it. Look how he’s getting hard again for me. Look what you can do when I let you.

When he had me hard again, she pushed his face away with an open hand.

—Enough. Now me.

Valeria got on all fours on the rug, arched her back and looked at me over her shoulder. Her ass was up, round, still firm despite the years, and her cunt was open between her thighs, shining under the low light.

—Me now. No mercy. I want to feel it tomorrow when I sit down. Fuck me like you’re twenty and you want to break me. Like there’s no tomorrow.

I knelt behind her and grabbed her hips. I didn’t go in slowly. I drove my cock into her in one hard thrust, to the hilt, and she let out a choked cry that turned into laughter and a moan at the same time. I fucked her exactly as she asked, not holding anything back. I grabbed her short hair in a fist, pulled back to arch her more, and started pumping with all my hips, listening to the wet slap each time my thighs hit her ass.

Each time my hand fell on her ass, she moaned louder and asked for more. My palm left a mark on her pale skin, and she moved her ass asking for the next slap. The insults she hurled at her husband got cruder with every thrust.

—See this, Ernesto? —she panted, face pressed into the rug and ass high—. See how he fucks me? That’s how you fuck a woman. Like this. Hard. Take notes, asshole. Learn.

Ernesto, kneeling to one side, was stroking himself again with his eyes wide, watching us.

—Yes, darling, yes, I’m watching it.

—Put it in your mouth. Mine. Put it in while he’s fucking me. Come on.

Ernesto moved in front of her and brought his cock to her mouth. Valeria opened without hesitation and started sucking him while I kept pounding her from behind. Each of my thrusts drove her deeper down onto his. We had her both ways, one in front and one behind, and she moaned with her mouth full, choking, unable to close her eyes from sheer pleasure.

I let her go for a moment, spread her butt cheeks with both thumbs and spat on her ass, between the folds. I saw her asshole contract at the feel of the saliva. I ran my thumb over it, pressing lightly, and she answered with a new moan, sharper.

—Not there —she said, spitting Ernesto’s cock out—. Not yet. Tomorrow. Today it’s only the cunt. Fuck me harder, asshole, harder, I want to cum again.

I let go of her ass, grabbed her by the hips and sped up. The rug started sliding under her knees. Her tits hung below, swaying with each thrust. I leaned over her, slipped one hand underneath and grabbed a breast, tugging at the nipple while I kept pounding her to the hilt.

—Yes, yes, yes, yes —she began to pant—, cum with me again, inside, don’t pull out, inside, inside...

I came for the second time, with less volume but the same force, pressing against her ass while her cunt vibrated in an orgasm that made her thighs shake. Valeria collapsed flat onto the rug, drained, with the red marks of my fingers on her hips, the red prints of my palms on her ass, and a smile that wouldn’t fit on her face. A small white pool formed between her thighs.

Ernesto picked her up in his arms with all the care in the world, carried her to bed and covered her with the sheet. He kissed her on the forehead. Then he lay down beside her and stroked her hair until they both fell asleep.

***

The next morning I opened my eyes with Ernesto kneeling beside the bed, working with almost religious concentration. He had my cock all the way in his mouth and was moving up and down slowly, lips tight, one hand stroking my balls. I’d woken up already hard, and he’d been at it naturally, like someone who expects nothing in return.

Valeria came out of the kitchen with two coffees, already dressed in a long T-shirt with nothing underneath, and sat on the edge of the mattress with the smile of someone who has slept better than she has in a long time. She looked at the scene, laughed softly and set the coffees on the nightstand.

—Get away from there —she told her husband, with that blend of tenderness and authority—. That’s mine. You’ve already had your share. Move.

Ernesto pulled his cock out of his mouth slowly, with a pop, and shifted aside without protesting. Valeria knelt beside him and the two of them worked as a team for a good while, their tongues sometimes meeting at the tip of the head, other times splitting the work without needing to coordinate. One sucked while the other took care of the balls. They passed the cock back and forth between their mouths with strings of saliva between their lips, kissed with it between them, wrapped it with both tongues at once.

Valeria took it all the way down her throat, pulled back with soft gagging and a smile, and passed it to Ernesto, who took it without ceremony and shoved it back in to the hilt. She grabbed his head and set the pace, looking at me while she did it.

—Do you like watching my husband suck you off, Marcos? Say yes. Say it.

—Yes —I managed.

—Good boy. He likes it too. Look how hard he’s getting.

The image was so far beyond any known scale that it left me unable to think of anything else. Valeria spread my legs open, licked my balls from underneath while Ernesto took care of the head, and when I felt I couldn’t hold out any longer, I told them.

—Here, here, on the face —she panted—. Both of you. Together.

She pressed up against Ernesto cheek to cheek, both of them with mouths open and tongues out, and I finished on them with my hand over both of them. I filled them both, his chin, her cheek, the corner of the mouth, the tongue. When the last drop was gone, Valeria turned her face, kissed her husband on the mouth and they passed the semen back and forth, mixing it, swallowing it halfway while they looked at me from the corner of their eyes.

***

On the beach, with the water up to our chests and the muted noise of the bathers coming from far away, Valeria pressed herself against me and whispered in my ear. Under the water she found my cock with her hand and gripped it firmly.

—Before we go up we need to make a stop. If you want to take me from behind this afternoon, which I suppose you do, am I wrong?

I didn’t deny it. I slipped my hand under the bottom of her bikini and shoved two fingers in at once. She was hot and tight even there, in the cold water.

—You’re going to split me in two, I know it —she went on, moving against my hand without changing expression—. But I’ve spent years thinking about something like this and today’s the day. I’ve never done it with something this big. Let Ernesto watch. Let him die of envy.

When we went back to shore, Ernesto was lying on the towel. I said out loud, without lowering my voice, that we needed to go to the pharmacy to buy lube. Ernesto lowered the magazine he’d been leafing through, looked at both of us, nodded slowly and got to his feet. He walked off across the sand with a clear erection under his swim trunks.

Valeria laughed, a clean, free sound, with none of the restraint of the night before.

—You’re an asshole, Marcos —she said, leaning on my shoulder—. But I like it.

***

That afternoon in the apartment: Valeria on the bed on hands and knees, me behind her with the lube, Ernesto in the chair I’d pointed to from the start.

I poured lube on her ass, watching the cold liquid run between her cheeks and slide down to her cunt. I ran two fingers over her asshole, circling slowly, until I felt the muscle relax. I put one in. She exhaled long, holding still. I put in the second and waited. I moved them in and out, opening her, while with the other hand I stroked her clit to distract her.

—Now —she murmured after a while—. Now, put it in. Slowly. Very slowly. Please.

I coated my cock with more lube until it shone. I placed the tip against her asshole and pushed. I felt the resistance, held there, and suddenly the muscle gave way and the head went in at once. Valeria let out a short cry, bit the pillow, and I stayed absolutely still.

—Don’t move —she panted—. Just a moment. Just one moment.

Ernesto, from the chair, was masturbating with reverent slowness, saying nothing, mouth open.

I began pushing in millimeter by millimeter, giving her time to get used to it. When I got to the halfway point, she moved her ass back, swallowing the rest on her own.

—Fuck —she said, face smashed into the pillow—. Fuck, fuck. All the way in. I’ve got it all the way in. Oh, my God.

I grabbed her hips and started moving very slowly, coming almost all the way out and going back in carefully, watching the asshole open and close around my cock. She started moaning in a voice I’d never heard from her before, deeper, more animal.

—More. Harder. Now. Fuck my ass hard, don’t hold back, I want to feel it tomorrow, I want not to be able to sit down.

I sped up. The bed started hitting the wall. I slid my hand underneath and put two fingers in her cunt while I kept pounding her from behind. She began trembling immediately, with both entrances full, squeezing my fingers and cock at the same time.

She asked for harder three separate times. All three times I delivered. I let go of her hips, grabbed her shoulders and pulled back to drive her into each thrust. Her tits swung beneath her with the rhythm. I wrapped an arm around the front of her neck and pulled her up until she was kneeling, arched against me, and pinched one nipple while I kept taking her from behind.

—I’m going, I’m going, I’m going —she started saying—, cum inside, in my ass, I want to feel it hot there too, cum, cum.

She convulsed all over, squeezing my cock in her ass in one long spasm, and I gave in for the third time in less than twenty-four hours, emptying myself inside her with a surge that made me see black spots. When it was over, her moans had filled the entire apartment and Ernesto had cum from the chair without anyone tending to him, semen hanging from his fist.

I came out very slowly. A white thread burst from the still-open asshole and slid down her perineum onto the sheet. Valeria collapsed onto her side, with a tired laugh, and stretched like a cat.

She turned and kissed me slowly, calmly, without the urgency of the night before.

—Thank you —she whispered—. It’s been a long time since I felt this alive.

***

On Sunday we came back late. I was driving, Ernesto in the passenger seat, Valeria in the back.

As soon as we left Nerja, her hand found my thigh. I let it. I slipped mine under her dress and discovered she wasn’t wearing underwear. She was soaked. I ran two fingers over her lips and pushed them in. She moaned softly, biting her lip to keep quiet.

—What did you expect —she murmured—, after the whole weekend?

Ernesto was watching us in the rearview mirror with a calm smile, both hands on the wheel.

Valeria climbed on top of me in the back seat, lifted her dress to her waist and took my cock out herself, without waiting for me to do anything. She set it at the entrance and came down slowly, mouth clenched to hold back her moan, letting it penetrate her centimeter by centimeter until she was sitting with all her weight on it. She moved slowly, unhurriedly, like someone who knows there’s nowhere to get to yet, her hands braced on the car ceiling so she wouldn’t hit her head.

—Shh —she whispered, putting a finger to my lips—. Don’t make a sound. Let him drive.

I grabbed her ass with both hands under her dress and helped her move, setting a slow, deep rhythm, burying myself to the hilt each time. I let one strap of her dress slip off, pulled out a breast, took it into my mouth. She closed her eyes and kept moving on me in the same tight silence, breathing harder and harder.

Ernesto kept his eyes on the road. Most of the time. From time to time he lifted his eyes to the rearview mirror and adjusted the position of his hand on the wheel.

—Darling —he said quietly, not taking his eyes off the road—, you need to make it home in one piece. We’re on the highway.

She clenched her teeth and sped up. She dropped down on me several times in a row, holding the moan in her throat. I came inside her almost at the same time she came, pressing against me with a muffled moan that trembled all through her mouth. I felt her cunt contract in spasms around my cock, squeezing me dry to the last drop.

She stayed still on top of me for a good while, face buried in my neck, breathing deeply. When she stood up, a huge wet stain had spread across my pants. Then she settled back into the seat like nothing had happened, smoothed her dress, and looked out the window at the dark landscape with an absent smile.

We got to Torremolinos a little before midnight. In the elevator, Valeria adjusted her dress. Ernesto pressed his floor button.

—It’s been a good weekend —he said, as if commenting on the weather.

Valeria and I looked at each other for a second.

—Yes —I said—. It’s been a good weekend.

***

We met for lunch the next day at their apartment. I arrived thinking it would be something quiet, intimate.

When I walked into the living room, Nuria was sitting on the sofa.

I stopped in the doorway.

—Marcos? —she said, eyes wide—. What are you doing here?

—I could ask you the same thing.

Ernesto reacted before anyone else. He presented the situation with the fluency of someone used to improvising: an old neighbor from their street, a classmate of Nuria’s, they’d run into him by chance in Torremolinos and invited him to lunch. Her son-in-law Sergio, a man with a proper look and the expression of someone who doesn’t expect anything interesting to happen, nodded without much curiosity.

Valeria looked at me from the kitchen. No guilt. No fear. With her usual calm.

Nuria had improved from how I remembered her. Time had given her what she’d promised as a teenager: a real presence, a body that filled the summer dress she was wearing. Her husband, on the other hand, was exactly the sort of man nobody looks at twice in a room.

The meal was tense in a way only the three of us could detect. Nuria asked questions, remembered things from school, smiled with that mix of nostalgia and curiosity of someone revisiting an old chapter. At one point she looked at me with something that wasn’t just politeness.

—Do you remember when we used to run through the hallways? —she asked, in a tone that made Sergio look up for a second.

—I remember everything —I said, low enough that only she could hear.

Her cheeks flushed. Sergio went back to talking about his work.

Valeria, from the other end of the table, lifted her glass and looked at me over the rim. Without saying anything. Without needing to.