Rivalry

I didn’t choose all three of them at once. It happened gradually, until one night I discovered they were messaging each other to get rid of their rivals.

I came home early, opened the door, and realized the silence between us had a name, a deep voice, and a smile that wasn't meant for me.

We had spent half our lives silently measuring ourselves against each other. Until the woman he pursued knocked on my door one August night and chose to stay.

He arrived without warning, with that smile of someone who always gets what he wants, and in one week he turned my mother’s life, mine, and the whole neighborhood upside down.

We left almost without saying goodbye. In the car, with anger still burning inside me, I decided to remind him who he belonged to that night.

Rubén was laughing at the blonde’s body on the screen, certain she wouldn’t last a minute. He had no idea he’d be the one ending up on the floor.

At forty-nine, my mother was still the woman everyone watched on the street. I, meanwhile, learned very early what it meant to feel invisible beside her.

They stepped onto the stage convinced it would only be a ridiculous dance. None of them imagined how far the girls were willing to go that end-of-term afternoon.

I had spent a year swallowing his taunts in silence. That afternoon, when he grabbed my shirt to humiliate me, my hand found exactly where to squeeze.

She made me kneel in the center of the basement, fastened the collar around my neck, and smiled: that night she meant to prove, once again, which of us was the weaker sex.

The email arrived without a sender: the queen was smiling, her face covered in cum and the crown still on. Then I understood why the same kind of girl always won.

At the café, they dared each other over laughs: each would pick a man that very afternoon. Neither imagined the bet would end in the same bed.

We queued for the slides all morning, but it was in the water, with her hand sliding over my waist, that I understood what she really wanted from me.

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.

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.

I bought lingerie for a night alone with my wife. I never imagined I’d end up watching her in another man’s arms while his wife settled into my lap.

If we lasted five minutes, then the women would compete afterward. What began as a joke among friends ended with the four of us naked in the same bed.

The rules were simple: the winner stayed tied up, the loser served, and in the end the two couples would decide who really ruled. No one planned to give in.

When she opened my study door, I knew she hadn’t come for the inheritance. She came for what we left unfinished ten years ago, and I’d been waiting for her ever since.

When that stranger’s fist put my boyfriend on the canvas, I knew I was about to do something I could never fully regret.