Young

I was nineteen, with a half-finished history assignment, when Rodrigo first stared at my cleavage. I never imagined it would take a decade to collect.

When Sofía lowered herself into the chair and I saw her face twist in pain, I knew the flu was a lie and that what had happened was far worse than I imagined.

I had spent two years working for Adrián without crossing a line. That afternoon in the Mediterranean, amid heat and wine, everything changed.

Nadia and Sofía were on their way home from the biggest event of the year when darkness claimed them. On waking, only chains and another’s will remained.

Eight years of listening to his conquests in silence, pretending everything was fine. Until one night a stranger offered him what he had always wanted.

Every time I crossed my legs in class, his eyes went down on their own. It took me two Tuesdays and one Friday to get him to invite me to the private reading room.

There were five of us in the apartment, it was cold, and someone put on the wrong disc. That afternoon I learned that stupid bets are sometimes the best ones to lose.

She was my mother’s friend, she was fifty, and when she looked at me from the edge of her desk, I knew the papers I’d brought were only an excuse.

He came every night, sat in the same spot, and never bothered anyone. He just watched her. And Sofía, who had already seen it all, began to look back.

No one had ever touched my body like that. When his hands closed around my waist, the textbook ceased to exist and something entirely different began.

She came in with a group, tried to steal a black lingerie set, and ended up giving back a lot more than she took. Her blue eyes told me everything from the first second.

I closed the laptop and could still feel his imaginary hands on my skin, the deep voice giving orders I obeyed without hesitation. A fantasy so real it left me shaking.

I came home from practice with the images still burning in my head: Adrián’s shoulders, Gonzalo’s eyes, and the heat of the gym I couldn’t shake.

I spent months avoiding him. Valentina dragged me into her pickup with no escape. He was in the driver’s seat, serious, not looking at me.

When they stopped us in the dark, all I could think about was getting away. I never imagined that hours later I’d be hoping it wouldn’t end.

We had been trying to have a child for two years without success. When the doctor confirmed what I suspected, I made a decision I still struggle to explain.

It began in the university courtyard, when a punch left me breathless and I felt something beyond pain. After that, I couldn’t stop seeking it.

Romina walked into that party with a confidence few women have. The next day, when she took me to pick up her daughter, I realized the night before had only been the beginning.

He was my best friend’s boyfriend: hot, shy, religious. Too perfect for me not to do something about it.