Office

She left me breathless in front of the mirror, my clothes half straightened and a promise hanging in the air: this wasn’t over.

I spent half my life believing I had everything, until I saw her on the production line and knew I wouldn’t stop until I had her in my bed.

I hated her the moment she walked in: tall, quiet, unbearable. What I didn’t expect was to spend the night fantasizing about her—or what would happen after, in the empty office.

For months I’d imagined that scene in her office, but I never thought it would be her who made the first move, with the lock clicked shut and her perfume filling everything.

We’d hated each other at the office for years, but that night, with my fourth margarita in hand, her thumb brushed my bare thigh and everything changed.

When I offered her the job, she smiled and told me it was her turn to ask questions. The first was whether I’d take her to bed after dinner.

Every time she walked past my desk I lost track of what I was doing. I never imagined one careless mistake would expose everything I felt for her.

She had trained for five years and never competed. On that last afternoon, when her coach straddled her, she knew it wasn’t nerves making her shake.

My secretary unbuttoned my blouse before I went into the office. I knew right away that meeting with the director would be unlike any other.

Four office coworkers, new heels, and a boss with a plan. What happened when the last glass was emptied was something no one dared say out loud.

Her husband hadn’t touched her in months. That night at the nightclub, I saw a small red ribbon hanging from her blouse and understood exactly what it meant.

I finished getting dressed on the edge of that bed and understood there was no turning back: the dutiful wife was dead, and I wanted more, much more.

Her husband came home exhausted and fell asleep in front of the television. Her boss, on the other hand, looked at her as though he knew exactly what she imagined in the shower.

When Diego left me the car and went home with the child, I never imagined I’d end the night against a bathroom wall with another man’s mouth on my neck.

I went down to the pool thinking I was only looking for the gym and some sun. I didn’t know they had already decided what to do with me once their husbands closed their eyes.

She leaned against the edge of the desk, opened her jacket, and said huskily, “Now you can stop wondering.” And I knew that afternoon wouldn’t end at the office.

At three in the morning I sent my personal number to the client. When her name appeared on my phone, I knew I’d already crossed a point of no return.

Marisol sat on the armchair in her robe. She had just filmed her revenge with the man her husband despised most, and there was no turning back.

After that Sunday at the beach, none of my coworkers could look at me the same way. And my wife knew it: she was the one pulling every string.

I took off my ring before getting into the water. I didn’t want any souvenir photo to give me away, or for him to get ideas that weren’t his to have.