Neighbors

It had been weeks since I’d set foot in her apartment, but that night, with two half-finished beers and her hand sliding up my thigh, I knew my vacation was off to a very good start.

The grocery tab was maxed out, my husband watched TV, and the grocer watched me from across the counter with blue eyes that seemed to strip me naked.

That stormy night I came home soaked and opened the bedroom door without warning: what I saw on our bed changed my mind more than any accusation could.

I opened the door for him to shelter from the downpour. I never imagined I’d end up on my knees in front of him, or that his four friends would come knocking too.

She was cleaning the terrace in a thong and little else, not knowing two men were spying on her from across the building. And me, seeing her desired, drove me insane.

At three in the morning I saw a masked woman force my neighbors’ door. When the light hit her face, I recognized the city’s most feared crimefighter.

I turned off the laundry-room light and looked toward the picture window of C. It was quarter past three in the morning. The girl opposite had come back. And she hadn't come back alone.

I’d been watching her out of the corner of my eye on the stairs for weeks. The afternoon I came home and found her on my sofa, I learned desire doesn’t care about labels.

When I climbed onto the table to dance for them, I knew I wouldn’t come down the same. There were ten, then twelve, and none left wanting.

I heard her arguing with her husband through the courtyard. That night she came to my door with a flimsy excuse and her robe half-open. I had no idea what was coming.

When the thunder started shaking the building, I knew she’d be pounding on my door. What I never imagined was that she’d end up in my bed that night.

I’m a mother of two, I’ve been married for over ten years, and I thought I was happy. Then he arrived and I discovered how long I’d forgotten desire.

He lived three doorways away from me and only wanted porn and mutual wanking. What I learned about him that afternoon changed everything between us.

She caught me watching those videos behind her back. Instead of getting angry, she smiled and asked, “Do you really want another man to fuck me in front of you?”

I thought I had the situation under control. I thought an old man with no strength couldn’t do anything to me. That was my first mistake of the morning.

Every night I wake drenched in sweat to the same scene: Mrs. Vilma locking the door, slipping on her gloves, and promising me there’d be no laughing this time.

Rubén filled the coffee maker while, on the other side of the window, our women stopped pretending. Neither of us looked away, and then his hand found mine.

In the car, with his hand on the wheel and mine between his legs, I understood that that night I would make the rules. And he would obey every one.

When she got into her trusted cab wearing a short dress and nothing underneath, neither she nor the driver imagined how far the game would go in the rearview mirror.

When I opened the recent files folder, the images appeared as thumbnails. I wanted to close it fast, but she was already looking at the screen with me, in silence.