Seduction

We’d sworn the playroom would be oral sex only. We hadn’t counted on the man next to us watching—or on his wife’s hands on my back.

At five in the morning, with my wife’s friend smoking on my terrace, I knew I was going to tell him about the night she herself pushed me over the edge.

I hadn’t seen her in two years when she came to my door broken, feverish, with a name that wasn’t mine on her lips.

When I saw my underwear on the glazier’s nightstand, I knew he’d been watching me for weeks. Instead of exposing him, I decided to give him something better to remember.

When she leaned in to say goodbye at the door, her mouth found mine and everything I’d buried for years came rushing back.

Her message came Tuesday at four: “My boyfriend’s away. I need to get out.” My best friend’s sister was waiting for me, eager.

When I learned I had only a few years left, I decided to live them without rules, starting with the person who slept three meters from my door every night.

I’d spent five years waiting for my husband, and that night, with my sister-in-law’s lover in front of me, I realized my body could no longer bear silence.

I swear that when I got on that plane all I could think about was closing the deal. I never imagined that night would be the one where I lost myself and us.

When I opened that old folder on his computer, I never imagined a photo of her would be the beginning of my own betrayal.

My daughter set down her glass, took off her tights on the sofa, and looked at me with a smile I hadn’t seen in ten years. Outside, the first snowfall of winter settled over the attic.

We talked for weeks without sending each other a single photo, until she told me she wanted to be the first to do it to me, in person, in her bed.

We hadn’t seen each other in nine months. When Renata opened the door and hugged me, I felt something different against my chest—something I wouldn’t understand until that afternoon.

The fireplace was lit, the champagne had gone flat, and I was in my panties in front of the fire. I was waiting for Helena, fresh from the shower, smelling of perfume and promises.

I slipped into the hallway without making a sound. The whispers were coming from the kitchen, and they weren’t from the person I expected. What I saw after that I never told anyone.

I got out of the taxi without looking back. It was eleven at night, my wife was still screaming my name from the landing, and I only wanted to disappear from the world.

Diego was asleep when he felt the mattress dip beside him. It was her, barefoot, whispering that she’d only come down to get her pajamas. His brother was snoring next door.

For days I hid among the bushes, watching her ride another man every night. When he was laid up with a fever, I took his place.

When I leaned out the car window to see if my sister was still awake, I found him in his window, smoking. And I knew he wasn’t going to look away.