The Gift That Made Me His Beloved Wife

I continue telling my true story, the one it took me years to dare to say out loud. For a long time I believed that part of me—the part that looked in the mirror and wished to see someone else—had to stay locked away forever. Until Damián appeared and, without asking me for anything, patiently began to dismantle every wall I had built.

That Wednesday, when I finally gave him my answer, there was no need for me to say anything else: I read it on his face before he even opened his mouth. Damián hugged me right there, not caring who might see us, and kissed me with an urgency that left me trembling. We agreed to seal our commitment on Friday, in a hotel, and that he would take care of the booking and prepare every detail.

—Don’t worry about a thing —he whispered in my ear—. Leave it all to me.

That night I barely slept. I tossed and turned in bed, replaying his words, wondering if I truly deserved something like that. Until then, no man had ever promised me a future. Only hiding places, silences, and glances that slipped away as soon as the sun came up.

On Friday I picked him up early, as every day, to go to work together. He got into the car with a suitcase and a wrapped bouquet of calla lilies that caught my attention. I didn’t put two and two together. Two days earlier he had asked me to write down my clothing sizes and shoe size on a piece of paper, and I, distracted, had not even remembered I had given it to him. I never imagined that those boxes in the trunk were gifts he had bought for me.

The drive to the company was forty-five minutes. That morning he drove, one hand on the wheel and the other reaching for mine over the gearshift.

—Do you know something? —he began, without taking his eyes off the road—. From the day you joined my department, you caught my attention. Your manner, the way you moved. Nothing vulgar, nothing forced. You looked like a helpless girl in the middle of those brutes.

I smiled, not knowing where he was going with this.

—I thought you were gay and decided to look after you —he went on—. I know the guys, I know how they get. I wasn’t going to let them make fun of you.

How long it took me myself to understand what he saw in five minutes.

—I was surprised when you started going out with Noelia —he added—. You two became a couple and I kept quiet. But at one of your birthdays you invited me to your house, remember? I met your parents. Your father is a huge man, his arms covered in hair. Your mother, on the other hand, is fragile, delicate, hairless. And I understood that you had taken more after her.

I swallowed hard. No one had ever spoken to me like that, as if he could read me from the inside. I felt my eyes grow moist and looked out the window so he wouldn’t notice.

—You don’t have to be ashamed of anything with me —he added, as if he had guessed my thoughts—. I’ve been watching you for years without your knowing. I know who you are better than you know yourself.

—If I protected you before without any reason —he said, and at last looked at me for a second—, now I’ll do it with far more reason. For the love I feel for you and for the commitment we’re about to make. With me you won’t lack a thing.

I spent the rest of the day as if in a cloud. While I pretended to concentrate on work, I kept his words in my chest and repeated them over and over. And for the first time in my life I did not feel afraid to admit what I had denied for years: that I was a woman, and that at last someone saw me as such.

***

When we left, instead of taking the road to the hotel he had mentioned, Damián turned onto another avenue and brought me to a discreet motel on the outskirts.

—This is just so you can change and get yourself ready like a woman —he explained when he saw my face—. At the hotel I booked in the name of a married couple. I’m going in with my wife.

The word wife went through me completely.

He carried the boxes up to the room, placed them on the bed, and told me:

—This is for you. Open them.

Inside there was clothing, costume jewelry, earrings, necklaces, bracelets. A full makeup case, high-heeled shoes, and lingerie chosen with such care it left me breathless. I stood there looking at it all, conquered, my eyes full of tears I didn’t want to shed so as not to ruin anything.

—You didn’t have to do this —I murmured.

—Yes, I did —he replied—. I’ve wanted to see you like this for too long.

I took a lace set in my hands and pressed it against my chest. It was the first time anyone had given me something like that, designed for the woman I was and not for the disguise the world expected of me.

—I chose each one for you —he said, standing behind me—. Imagining you in every piece.

I changed into the feminine clothes I had packed myself in my suitcase and saved his gifts to wear for the right moment. While I did my makeup in front of the mirror, he unfolded a soft-sided suitcase and arranged the boxes inside it. I watched him in the reflection: the concentration with which he folded each garment, the care with which he treated what was mine. When I finished lining my eyes and painting my lips, I looked at myself and for a moment did not recognize myself. At last the image in the mirror matched the one I carried inside.

This is me. This is who I always was.

When I was ready, we left holding hands.

On the way to the hotel, nerves were eating me alive. It was the first time I would appear in public dressed as a woman, exposed to the gazes of strangers. He noticed it right away.

—Don’t be nervous, love —he said, squeezing my fingers—. You look gorgeous. You’re going to blend right in.

And that certainty of his, so firm, sank into me and held me together. I got out of the car walking the way I had always dreamed of walking: upright, feminine, without apologizing for existing.

***

The room was spacious, with a huge bed and a window overlooking the city lights. Damián left the suitcase in a corner, turned on a dim lamp, and invited me in as if he were welcoming me into his own home.

Once settled in, we got into the shower together. We held each other under the hot water, kissing slowly, without rush, learning each other anew. His hands moved over my back and I rested my forehead against his chest, letting the water wash away the last remnants of fear. He got out first. I stayed behind finishing my makeup and adjusting my wig.

I heard someone knock on the door and him receiving something. When I came out, wrapped only in a short towel robe that covered just enough, I saw him standing by the bed with a huge bouquet in his hands.

—To my beloved and beautiful wife Mariel —he read aloud, and handed me the card.

I felt such overwhelming emotion that my legs nearly gave way. I hugged him, kissed him, and whispered a “thank you” that broke in my throat.

—From now on you’re going to be my wife —he whispered in my ear—. You’re going to make up for everything she can’t give me anymore. Or do you need a piece of paper to believe me?

—No, my love —I answered without hesitation—. I’m completely yours.

And we kissed deeply, with the certainty of a woman loved by her man.

***

He removed the towel carefully, as if unwrapping something precious, and I stood naked before him. He undressed too, never taking his eyes off my body, and lifted me in his arms to carry me to the bed. He laid me down between kisses and stretched out beside me.

For a while we only looked at each other. He brushed the hair from my face and traced with his fingertips my cheekbones, my lips, my neck, as if he wanted to memorize me. I had never felt so desired and so respected at the same time.

—You’re beautiful —he murmured—. And you’re mine.

The brush of his body hair against my skin made my whole body prickle. I felt like his in every inch. I began to slide downward, kissing his chest, his stomach, slowly moving lower until I found him already hard, eager to have him in my mouth and show him everything I felt.

I kissed him first, then licked him, and finally took him between my lips with a devotion I had never given to anything.

—Hummm… like that… —he moaned, burying his fingers in my hair—. I love you. You do it for me like no other woman.

Those words lit me up more than any caress. I kept going, feeling his breathing become uneven, feeling his whole body tense beneath my hands.

Then he took me by the waist and, with gentle authority, turned me over. He put me on all fours, my head resting on the pillow, and began to cover with his mouth every part of me that now belonged to him. He kissed my back, my hips, moved lower. When he reached my intimate place, perfumed and clean, he licked me slowly and I fell apart in moans.

—Yes… I’m yours… —I gasped against the pillow—. More… take me now, I want to feel you inside me.

He turned me again and laid me on my back. He lifted my legs onto his shoulders and began to take me slowly, opening his way in, watching every change in my face so as not to hurt me. It hurt at first, and then it was only pleasure, a wave growing with each thrust.

—Look at me —he asked—. I want to see you while I make you mine.

And I looked at him. We loved each other like that, looking into each other’s eyes, kissing each other with ever-growing hunger, until the two of us climaxed almost at the same time, wrapped around each other, sealing with our bodies the commitment we had already sealed with our souls.

We lay there, sweaty and happy, not letting go of each other. He stroked my hair and I listened to the beating of his heart calming little by little. I didn’t want to move, I didn’t want it to end. For the first time in my life I felt whole, with nothing to hide and nothing to apologize for.

***

After resting for a few minutes, he kissed my forehead and sat up.

—Let’s shower again and get dressed —he said—. I’m taking you to dinner at a place you’re going to love.

—Are we going out? —I asked, and the nerves returned for an instant.

—We’re going out —he confirmed, smiling—. As what you are: my wife.

I obeyed without fear, without worrying about being surrounded by people, because at his side nothing could happen to me. I put on one of the dresses he had given me, the high-heeled shoes, and the earrings I liked best. When he saw me come out of the bathroom, he fell silent for a second and then smiled in that way he reserved only for me.

—My wife —he said, offering me his arm.

That night I walked among strangers on the arm of the man I loved, dressed as a woman, finally feeling whole. No one pointed at me, no one laughed. To the whole world, we were simply a couple going out to dinner.

What happened that weekend deserves its own story. I’ll tell you soon. But that afternoon, in that hotel room, I understood something no mirror had given me in years: that being a woman was not a disguise I put on in secret, but the truth I had always carried inside me, waiting for someone to look at me and tell me I was beautiful.