Strangers

That night I lost my money, my underwear, and the idea I had of myself. What happened afterward in that empty park is something I had never told anyone.

When the elevator door opened and I saw the apartment door ajar, I knew there would be no rules this time. And part of me had wanted that for days.

He slipped a scrap of paper into my hand as he cleared the plate. I read it in the room: it was his number. And I knew I wouldn’t be alone that night.

I’ve never done it, but I know every detail: the café, the elevator, his hands. This is the fantasy that repeats and that I never dare say out loud.

I thought the picnic area would be empty in that rain. Then she appeared, asked for a light, and two hours later let her dress slide to the floor.

I was furious, trembling, with an almost empty bottle beside me. I dialed his number at three in the morning just to hear him breathe on the other end.

At six in the morning, with a plate of tacos in my hand, I decided to sit at the table of two strangers who had been watching me for a while.

He shut the room door with all my clothes in his hands and left me on my knees, naked, with one order: “I’ll wait for you in the car.”

I said I had heartbreak just so someone would look at me. I didn’t expect two strangers to take my cure so seriously… or for me to let them.

She was fifteen years older than me, drove a red convertible, and knew exactly what she wanted that night. All I had to do was obey and enjoy it.

At four in the morning, locked under the sheets with my mother’s phone, I started opening folder after folder, unaware that nothing would ever be the same.

That afternoon the massage left me burning. I never imagined I’d end up on my knees in front of a stranger in my own living room, or who would catch me there.

I was sweaty and breathless when his voice reached me from behind. He didn’t want to take me to dinner: he wanted to buy my whole night, and I wanted to be bought.

I agreed to my boyfriend’s fantasy believing we’d both come out ahead. That night, while I was screaming in one room, he heard everything from the other side of the door.

We thought it was a twenty-block ride. Neither Lucía nor I imagined we’d get off that bus as two completely different women.

She slipped into bed naked except for her thong and whispered in my ear: don’t turn around, don’t say anything, just listen. Then she started telling me about that night.

I went out alone to explore the northern area and a blow to the back of my head changed everything. I woke up surrounded by strangers, naked and with no escape.

What we had was the secret we carried everywhere, but that night, far from the city, we decided to share it with someone else.

I agreed to go up to a room with twelve mattresses on the floor, never imagining that by morning I’d leave with more than one man marked on my skin.

Every week we stared at the photos by the entrance without daring to go in. The night we crossed that door, I discovered how far I could go with him watching me.