Taboo Dance

“Bunny, why weren’t you answering your phone?" said a woman with a vulgar voice when I answered my husband’s cell. I don’t usually do that, but they were calling so insistently that I thought one of my spouse’s patients might be having an emergency.

I suspected Cristian was having affairs with other women, but I wasn’t certain. Hearing that floozy was like a bucket of cold water. I didn’t know whether to answer her with irony or to insult her mercilessly. In the end, I chose to hang up without saying a word. I sat on the bed and waited for my husband to finish his shower.

“ What are you doing here at this hour?" he asked, annoyed.

“Let me remind you that I live in this house, bunny" I replied coldly, keeping calm and trying to hide my urge to kill him.

For a few seconds, I could see his unease, but he quickly returned to his cold, detached demeanor. He had the audacity to scold me for answering his phone. I couldn’t believe how shameless he was. I tried to stay composed, like the lady I am, but in the end, I snapped. I slapped him hard and confronted him about his affair.

He grabbed me forcefully by the arms and pushed me against the wall. Then he told me I had no right to demand fidelity. He reminded me that our marriage had been arranged by our parents. My father owed a massive sum of money to my current father-in-law, and to settle the debt, they agreed that Cristian and I would marry. And that’s how, five years ago, we became husband and wife.

He’s only physically attracted to me. He’s told me so. He likes my blue eyes, my blond hair, and my slim figure, but beyond the physical attraction, he feels nothing for me. He’s cold and distant. He’s never said a kind word to me—nothing that would suggest he cares. I must be the most foolish woman in the world. Despite everything, I’ve learned to care for him, which is basically like loving an ice cube.

I cut him off in the middle of his speech, where he was trying to blame me for finding out. I asked him for a divorce. He laughed, as if I’d just told him the funniest joke. He said our union was forever. That we would never separate.

"My daddy bought me this pretty little doll, and I don’t want to stop playing with her," was one of the silly arguments he used to justify not ending our marriage.

Eventually, he got tired of talking and left. You don’t need to be a mind reader to know he went to meet up with that damn bunny. Even though I didn’t want to suffer over this situation, tears began streaming down my cheeks.

I’m never home at that hour on Tuesdays, since I attend a modern dance class. Today, after waiting half an hour for the instructor, we students were informed that he’d had an incident and that the class would be canceled for the day. While we waited, a young woman dressed in 1950s fashion handed us some flyers inviting us to work as Burlesque dancers at a cabaret.

The audition was that same day at eight in the evening. Several of my classmates were very excited and planned to show up at the scheduled time. I was intrigued as well, but it wasn’t exactly appropriate for the wife of a surgeon to be hanging around places like that.

I was so furious about what had happened with my husband that I decided to go to the audition. I picked out a fitting outfit, a mask, and a pair of very high heels. I painted my lips red and let my blond hair fall loose.

I searched for the cabaret’s location on the GPS. It was literally on the other side of the city. That made me hesitate, but my desire for revenge against my husband was stronger. So I got in my car and drove to the dive. There I found several classmates who were surprised to see me. It was still a while before eight o’clock, but they asked us to get dressed for the audition. I put on my corset and lace panties. I also wore garters, a garter belt, a feathered mask, and ten-centimeter heels. Everything was red—just like my lips.

The girl who had invited us to this talent audition asked us to get up on stage. We all looked stunning. Most of the women were dressed in dark colors, so my red outfit stood out among the rest. Several men arrived, but one of them caught my attention. He was very tall, and even in a suit, it was obvious he had a sculpted body. He had brown hair, fair skin, and dominant, cat-like hazel eyes that I instantly loved. Even though he couldn’t have been older than twenty-five, the others seemed to treat him with reverence, so I assumed he was the owner of the place.

He looked at us one by one. When our eyes met, a power struggle began. I’m not submissive at all. I have a strong character, and maybe that’s the reason my husband keeps his distance from me. After a while, seeing that I didn’t lower my gaze like the rest of the candidates had, he smiled and moved on to look at the others.

When he finished looking at us, he introduced himself as Eduardo. Just that—no last name, no nickname. He added that he was the owner of a chain of cabarets and casinos. He said he only needed five new dancers, so not all of us would get to perform that night. He would start by watching five of us, and if he was satisfied, the rest would be considered for a future opportunity.

The first name he called was mine. Of course, I hadn’t registered with my real name—I used the pseudonym Almendra. I smiled like a little girl, grinning from ear to ear, just because I’d been chosen first. Then he called four more women. We would dance in the order we were selected, so I went first. I chose a very sensual version of the song “Feeling Good” and started moving like a cat trying to catch the attention of the alpha male. I put into practice everything I’d learned in dance class and added a sensuality that had been repressed for far too long.

After all the chosen women had danced, we were informed that we had all been selected. Eduardo thanked the rest of the girls and told them they could apply again next time. Once only the selected ones remained, they explained the contract terms and other details about the cabaret. The place operated all day, and payment depended on the shift you worked.

They asked us what hours we preferred to work. I said I wanted to work Monday through Friday, from three to six in the afternoon. Cristian was rarely home at that time, so he wouldn’t notice my absence or ask what I was up to.

The boss told us he’d be expecting us the next day at our chosen hours and said we could go get dressed. As I was heading toward one of the dressing rooms, Eduardo gently took me by the arm and asked me to follow him. We entered a large, elegant office. He asked what I wanted to drink. I usually don’t drink, but that day I needed something alcoholic to relax. I asked for a glass of champagne. He poured himself some whiskey with plenty of ice. We started drinking and chatting about trivial things. He asked if I had a husband or children, how long I’d been married. I told him I got married at twenty-nine, that I’ve been married for five years, and that I don’t plan on having children.

As he was sipping his second whiskey, he came closer and kissed me. I didn’t resist—in fact, I set down my glass and embraced him passionately. It had been a long time since someone had kissed me like that. We began touching each other, slowly undressing, until we ended up making love.

He wanted us to spend the night together. I couldn’t. No matter how much Cristian had a mistress, I couldn’t do the same. Guilt began to creep in over what I had just done with someone who must be ten years younger than me. I knew it was a mistake for many reasons. The main one being that I am a married woman—and I must not forget that.

Like a true gentleman, Eduardo insisted we go to his apartment. I firmly said no, and he didn’t push further. He handed me a business card, telling me to call him whenever I wanted. His full name left me stunned. Eduardo Marín de la Cruz. He had the same last names as my husband. Cristian had told me he had a brother who was considered the black sheep of the family because he was involved in shady businesses. In short, the first time I cheated on my husband, I did it with my brother-in-law. I was deeply worried about it.

"Beautiful, why did you react that way when you saw my name? Is there a problem?" Eduardo asked with genuine concern.

At first, I stayed silent. I couldn’t snap out of my shock. I had slept with my husband’s brother. In the end, I confessed to him that I had never cheated on my husband before. He quickly tried to calm me down. He also told me that what had happened between us would remain a secret. His words brought me some relief, but the guilt didn’t fade. On top of that, I was afraid he’d find out we were brothers-in-law. As I wiped off my makeup, I tried to become the honest woman I’d always been.

I drove home at full speed because it was already past nine at night. When I got home, Cristian scolded me for getting back so late. I answered sarcastically that I just wanted to give him some time to be with his little bunny. He didn’t say a word. He just gave me an angry look.

I locked myself in the bathroom. There, I saved Eduardo’s number in my phone under the name Estela. I flushed his business card down the toilet. The idea was to make sure Cristian didn’t find out anything. Erasing the evidence that made me feel so guilty didn’t stop me from thinking about only one thing—seeing Eduardo, my brother-in-law, again.

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