Neighbors

I grew up between prayers and prohibitions, convinced that pleasure was sin. Until the woman next door sat beside me on the bus and everything began to change.

I went down to the garage ready to cry alone, but the hand that tapped my car window that night wasn’t bringing comfort: it was bringing an offer I couldn’t refuse.

I crossed the living room to get a glass of water, forgetting the curtains were still open. On the other side of the glass, his eyes had already found me.

I was forty-four, had two daughters, and a recent divorce when the girl from across the street looked at me differently and said what I didn’t dare think.

That morning, when I half-opened my eyes on the mattress pushed up against the balcony, she was already there on hers, smoking, waiting for me to turn over.

The old neighbor gave me the betrayal photo before I said goodbye. I could only think about Sofía’s door and whether she’d let me back into her house.

I carried her boxes up, made her coffee, and before I finished it, I already knew that neighbor was going to change every night I spent in that building.

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

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.

The doorbell rang just as she finished hanging the laundry. I hid in the bedroom and watched her go answer it wearing nothing but wedges and a smile.

The first time was an accident. After that, every night he had company, I moved the armchair to the window and let my hand drift down on its own.

At midnight, wearing her shortest miniskirt and a white blouse without a bra, Carolina crossed the garden toward the bricklayers' container.

Three weeks without hearing from him, and I couldn’t stand it anymore. I texted “hiii,” and his reply reminded me of the only thing I was to him: his obedient slut.

I opened the wrong drawer by mistake and discovered my best friend was hiding things I didn’t even know how to name. That afternoon, she decided to explain them to me one by one.

I checked the terrace cameras and discovered that my neighbor’s daughter had been watching us in silence from behind the curtains for weeks.

It was seven in the morning, I’d just broken up with my girlfriend by text, and my neighbor was still face down in my bed. I wasn’t about to waste the morning.

When I found the neighbor peering over the wall, I didn’t cover up. I dropped my bikini top under the patio shower and let him see as much as he wanted.

I turned the living-room light down so she wouldn’t see me, but when the sheet started moving beneath her hips, I knew I wouldn’t be sleeping that night.

I went for water at two in the morning and the blue TV light stopped me cold. My son was on the sofa, and I couldn’t look away.