My Stepson Took Me Out Dancing and Everything Changed

After dinner, they went to a cocktail bar in the city center, one of those places where people drank, danced, and used all kinds of dubious substances without even trying to hide it. Damián made his way to the bar while Vera, pressed against his back, shouted the order in his ear so he could make himself understood over the music.

—Rum and Coke! —she repeated.

He relayed the order to the waitress, a pretty blonde who winked at him knowingly as she filled the glasses. Vera was overwhelmed by the noise. Despite her youth, she had never been one for crowds or clubs, and all those bodies pressing in on her made her feel swamped. Damián, on the other hand, looked like he was in his element.

He dropped a bill on the bar and wished the woman a good night, and she gave him a dazzling smile in return.

—Thanks, handsome! —she sang out.

They found a little space in that human tide and claimed it for themselves. The neon and ultraviolet spotlights gave the place a psychedelic feel; Vera’s skin darkened under the light while her teeth gleamed with an artificial whiteness.

Damián started moving around her, urging her to copy him. Oddly enough, Vera felt self-conscious, a one-hundred-eighty-degree turn from the ease she showed in the reels and live streams on her social media.

Suddenly, two girls started chanting beside her.

—Vera! Vera! —they shouted to make themselves heard over the din.

And shy Vera rose from the ashes like a phoenix, instantly unfolding her best version of herself.

—Hi! —she exclaimed, opening her arms to them with practiced warmth.

—I can’t believe it. Is it really you? —one of them blurted out, stunned.

—Of course it’s her! —her friend snapped.

—Is he your boyfriend? —the first one asked, before getting an elbow in the ribs.

—Sorry, Vera, she’s so excited she can’t believe we’ve got you right here —the other one apologized.

Damián watched the scene in astonishment. Two fans had spotted her in the most unexpected place, right in the middle of an ecstatic crowd. As if they had planned ahead, they pulled out markers from their bags and asked Vera to sign for them.

—Of course! —she agreed with a charming smile.

They took selfies with her in the center too, and Vera struck her most flattering pose once again. When they finally said goodbye, they hugged her affectionately. Damián was smiling, and she had gone a little pink.

—See? I told you they know me! —she shouted in his ear.

—Of course they do! You were very nice to them —he replied.

—I like being recognized. I can’t refuse to sign something or take a photo, even if sometimes there’s some annoying person —she confessed.

—That’s the price of fame —Damián shouted near her ear.

Soon they spotted Bruno, whom everyone called “the Bear,” and Damián jumped up and down to get his attention. They had just arrived too, so they joined the group and had fun together.

While they were dancing, Bruno moved closer to Vera.

—Sorry, I have to be honest —he said in her ear, raising his voice —. I’d already seen you before, with Damián’s father, walking around the harbor.

Vera froze. She couldn’t understand where he was trying to go with such a confession right now.

—I thought about asking him about his father, but I don’t like poking into things that aren’t my business —he added.

Vera wasn’t frozen: she was petrified. What was she supposed to say to the big guy? There was only one way out.

—It’s nothing, Bruno. Damián’s father is my husband… it’s a long story. I couldn’t exactly introduce myself as his “stepmother” before I knew you all.

The big man nodded slowly.

—Relax. We’re not strangers anymore, you don’t have to hide. His father’s a good guy. If life has taught me anything, it’s not to judge, so that I won’t be judged myself.

That burst of sincerity, unintended though it was, put before her something she had only brushed against until then.

—Thank you, Bruno. I really appreciate it.

She preferred to leave the conversation there, breathing a little easier at not having to pretend in front of Damián’s friends.

The two boys’ happiness was almost contagious. Mei, by contrast, was restrained in her dancing and her gestures; her Eastern background seemed at odds with so much public exuberance. Vera moved closer to her so she wouldn’t feel isolated. She herself wasn’t the type to show her joy openly or to flaunt extroversion either. In that sense, she identified more with Mei than with Bruno.

The contrast in that odd pair shook her, and at the same time she saw herself reflected in them: she thought of when she used to go out with Marcelo and how the stares, when not the whispers, hit them as if people wanted to stone them for breaking rules nobody had ever written down.

Damián moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, swaying slowly. Vera felt uncomfortable and turned to look him in the eye.

—He knows —she whispered, leaning toward his ear.

—Who knows? —Damián asked, not understanding.

—Your friend. The Bear saw Marcelo and me together at the harbor —Vera said, shaken by her stepson’s closeness.

He looked at her without moving even a millimeter away, trying to take in what she had just revealed.

—So what? He’s a friend. Our secret is safe with him —he said, taking a sip from his drink.

—No, Damián, we can’t —she replied, gently pushing him away.

***

Her sad look was interrupted when, nearby, a small stream of boys and girls burst in. They were more friends of Bruno’s and Damián’s. Introductions followed one after another until Vera lost count of names and faces.

They came in like a gust of fresh, exotic air, making their way through with the confidence of people who knew they owned the night. Zaida, her mane of black curls exploding in an unruly ebony mass, melted into an embrace with Damián, while Aldo, ghost-pale under the strobe lights, greeted them with a languid, elegant gesture.

Then Omar and Liv appeared. The contrast was magnetic: his skin, deep and dark as a moonless night, intertwined with her alabaster complexion and platinum hair, forming a composition Vera watched with fascination and unease. Bringing up the rear were Hana, with her delicacy etched into an impassive face, and Nilo, a guy with Mediterranean features and a wild gaze who seemed to radiate a contagious vitality.

Damián, in the middle of that collective delirium, was introducing his people with shouts that barely pierced the wall of sound, while Vera felt her world of appearances crumbling before the authenticity of those people. They were no longer just names: they were physical proof that life pulsed with a force that, until that night, she had only sensed through the glass of a screen.

The party climbed even higher in frenzy with the new infusion of human capital. While Damián dissolved into the sea of newly arrived friends, Vera felt out of place. She wasn’t used to such a large group, and maybe that was why she felt pushed aside. Damián saw her alone for a moment and came over.

—What’s wrong, famous girl? —he said, trying to coax a smile out of her.

—Nothing. I’m impressed by your popularity. I have thousands of followers, but I don’t see them, I don’t feel them like I do here… like I feel all of you —she confessed, sharing that strange loneliness of having an army of more than a hundred thousand souls on social media.

—Don’t hold back. My friends are your friends —he assured her.

He pulled her back into the group. The girls flocked to her and started bombarding her with questions and insinuations about her relationship with him. Vera kept repeating that he was “a friend,” feeling the lie wasn’t convincing and running into sly smiles. Even so, none of them said anything that made her uncomfortable. Now she could dance without feeling watched like before; everyone danced with everyone else in a kind of social orgy, as exciting as it was exhausting.

The rhythm of the night stretched into the early morning. Vera started yawning and the party began to wind down. Their mutual confessions about each other’s wounds were far behind them now.

She moved closer to Damián. Several friends had already left when she whispered in his ear:

—I’m tired. I’d like to go back —she begged, pressing herself against his chest.

—Of course. Let’s say goodbye —he nodded, taking her toward the group of holdouts that remained.

***

They said their goodbyes and left the club. The early hours greeted them with fresh, renewed air. After leaving behind that damp, stale atmosphere, they were finally able to fill their lungs.

—It was so hot in there! —Vera exclaimed, drawing in a deep breath.

—The air was really stuffy —Damián agreed. —Should we head home now?

—I’d like to take a walk and clear my head —she said, suddenly seeming to have forgotten her tiredness.

Clinging to his arm, they set off along the seafront promenade, quiet at that hour, under a sky that the streetlights dirtied with orange. They walked a couple of kilometers with nothing but the intention of clearing their heads.

At dawn, when the black of night was beginning to give way to the violets and lilacs announcing the birth of the sun, they were sitting in the sand. It had been a while since they’d stopped drinking, so their minds were clear again. Curled up side by side, the sea breeze, heavy with moisture, cooled them and they felt the need to take refuge in each other’s company. Vera clung to his chest because she was starting to shiver.

—Your group of friends surprised me. You’re an incredible bunch —she confessed wistfully.

—Don’t tell me the influencer with thousands of followers was impressed by some random party.

—Strange as it may sound, what I do online is beauty tips and personal care. But… I’d never had so much fun like this. Those crowded places always turned me off.

—Then this isn’t good for you. You’re going down the wrong path, girl —Damián shot back sarcastically.

Vera felt very comfortable beside him. Maybe too comfortable.

—I didn’t think you were such a good guy —she confessed in a burst of honesty.

—Really? I’m a bastard. If you weren’t who you are, I’d have had a go at you tonight already —he replied, playful and bold at once.

Vera laughed, though she felt flattered.

—Oh, yeah? And what would you do to me? —she shot back coquettishly.

—Unmentionable things! —Damián said, making himself sound intriguing.

Then she lifted her face from his chest and looked up into his eyes. It was almost dark, but their gazes could still be made out, deep and penetrating. He brought his lips close to hers. Vera felt the tickle of his thick beard and, even so, kissed him tenderly.

They gave themselves over to a succession of soft, spontaneous kisses, letting the tension held in check all night spill over all at once. Wrapped in each other’s arms under the cool dawn breeze, neither of them could make sense of what they were doing. She was her father’s wife. He was her husband’s son. And yet there they were, drinking each other in as if the world did not exist beyond that strip of sand.

After a long run of kisses, she suddenly pulled away.

—I’m sorry, Damián, I can’t…! —she stammered, stopping dead, feeling the dizziness growing inside her drive her toward an abyss that terrified her.

—It’s okay, it’s nothing… —he said, guilty for having started something they couldn’t finish.

Remorse flooded them for letting themselves be carried away by that crazy night, and they didn’t know what to say next.

Damián got to his feet and silently held out his hand to head back home. When they got near the motorcycle, Vera refused.

—On the bike with you? Not a chance! You said zero alcohol, remember?

—Relax, girl. I stopped drinking ages ago and I’ll go slow, I promise! —he insisted.

She scrutinized him skeptically, the corner of her mouth barely curling.

—Sure?

Damián simply copied her expression and turned his head a little, inviting her to get on with a silent gesture.

—Come on, get on!

Vera looked back at the beach one last time, where the sun was already setting the edge of the sea on fire, and knew that neither of them would go home being quite the same person they had left as. She climbed on behind him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and rested her cheek against his back as the engine roared to life and the empty promenade began to slide beneath the wheels.