Chapter 3

To keep Cristian from getting suspicious about me going out every weekday, I requested a schedule change at the modern dance academy. I started taking classes Monday through Friday, from nine to eight. If my husband ever asks why I leave the house so early, I already have the perfect excuse. I’ll tell him that some classmates and I are rehearsing a choreography for an upcoming exam.

At my first class with the new dance group, I ran into a student who also danced during the same shift as me at the cabaret. While we waited for class to start, I tried to talk to her. She was very curt and answered reluctantly. Apparently, she can’t stand me.

When I got home, Cristian was already there, sipping a whiskey with lots of ice. He asked where I’d been at that hour. I explained the schedule change in my dance classes and told him we were rehearsing a choreography earlier in the day. In a harsh tone, he said I had no need to waste time on “little dances.” That my duty was to be at home. That’s why he covered all my expenses—which, according to him, weren’t few. Then he went on with a cliché, sexist rant. When he finally stopped, I told him I would die if I had to stay locked up at home all day. Sarcastically, he replied that that was all the more reason I should obey him and remain in our home. After dinner, I went to bed, trying not to think about my husband’s sarcasm.

When I woke up the next day, I found a message from Eduardo on my phone. In a very charming way, he invited me to lunch. I told him I couldn’t be seen in public. I reminded him that I was a respectable wife and homemaker. I expected him to mock that, but he didn’t. He acted like a perfect gentleman. He replied that we could have lunch discreetly at his apartment. At first, I turned down the offer—but eventually, I accepted.

He sent me the address via direct message. His apartment was in a neighborhood close to mine, which made the risk of being discovered by my husband even greater. I didn’t care. I drew on my inner strength and began getting ready for the encounter.

After showering with my rose-scented soap, I dressed for the occasion. I put on pink lingerie, a lovely white pin-up dress with tiny pink flowers, and white high heels. I wore a floral perfume and did my makeup playfully, using soft colors. The idea was to look completely different from the showgirl who danced at his cabaret.

When I arrived, he greeted me warmly and then kissed me passionately. He told me I looked beautiful in that outfit. Then he offered me something to drink. I accepted a glass of champagne, and he poured himself a glass of white wine. We paired the drinks with a platter of cheeses covered in chocolate. I placed a piece in my mouth and leaned toward my lover. He took it from my lips—and bit them in the process. That little game quickly set us on fire. We ended up having sex before even getting to lunch.

I put on one of Eduardo’s robes and sat down for lunch. The main course was salmon with rosemary potatoes, and for dessert, we had a glass of ice cream with chocolate sauce and nuts. Everything was paired with an exquisite, sweet white wine. We finished with a strong Colombian coffee, which had a very intense flavor. Then we took a shower together—and ended up having sex again.

We headed to the cabaret in our own cars. We agreed that Eduardo would leave his apartment twenty minutes after me so we wouldn’t arrive together. The idea was to avoid suspicion and gossip. When I got to the cabaret, I touched up my makeup and took off my dress. My pink lingerie would be my outfit for the night—along with a matching pink mask.

After dancing three times, I took a short break to have a coffee. Marión sat down next to me. She was the classmate from the dance academy I had tried to talk to before. Without any filter, she asked what a doctor’s wife was doing in a dive like that. I tried to smile to soften the intensity of her question. Looking her in the eyes, I told her I worked at the cabaret to practice what we learned in dance class. She asked if my husband knew. I replied that he was the one paying for my dance studies. I knew she was referring to the job, not the classes, but I wanted to dodge the question. It didn’t work. She kept pressing until I finally told her my husband didn’t know about the cabaret.

"You do realize I could blackmail you, right?" she said, staring coldly into my eyes

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"I know you won’t," I replied, trying to hide my nervousness

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"You don’t know me. You have no idea what I’m capable of doing for money," she answered confidently.

As Marión finished saying those words, Antonella told me I had to go back on stage. While I danced, I couldn’t stop thinking about my classmate’s threat. Was she joking, or was she serious? Her body language suggested she meant every word. If she actually tried to blackmail me, I’d have no way to pay her. Yes, I’m the wife of a doctor who gives me a monthly allowance, but it’s not enough to afford hush money. And the cabaret pays very little. It would be a complete disaster.

After dancing, I went to Eduardo’s office and told him what had happened with Marión. At first, he thought about firing her, but I pointed out that doing so would only give her more reason to blackmail me. He suggested I try to become friends with her. I told him I had already tried, with poor results. In the end, we agreed that the best approach was to act as if I were ignoring her threats and stay alert to her every move.

After finishing my shift at the cabaret, I went to modern dance class. One of my classmates warned me that Marión had been spreading gossip—that I, a doctor’s wife, was dancing in a cabaret like a cheap showgirl. I thought about confronting her, but I realized it wouldn’t do any good. So I chose to ignore her, even though I felt a strong urge to slap her across the face.

I decided to go home wearing the clothes I used for class—a short-sleeved T-shirt, leggings, and sneakers. That way, my husband would see I was really coming from the academy. When I got home, he asked—without even greeting me—how long I planned to keep playing ballerina. I told him, “Until I get tired of it.” Then I took a shower, we had dinner together, and went to bed. Ever since I found out about Joselyn, his mistress, he hasn’t asked to have sex with me again. It’s better that way. It lets me give myself completely to my lover.

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