Chapter 4

Half-jokingly, Marión has kept saying she could blackmail me. Now she doesn’t just say it when we’re alone—she says it in front of classmates and coworkers too. She even said it in front of Eduardo, who scolded her, invoking team loyalty. That only made Marión laugh like a maniac

After Marión’s threat in front of Eduardo, he and I had a long conversation to figure out how we would continue seeing each other. I tried to take the opportunity to tell him who my husband was, but he insisted he didn’t want to know anything about my married life. We then talked about how to handle our relationship. We agreed to meet only at his apartment—never in public places. And at the cabaret, he would treat me like just another dancer. The plan was to keep our affair hidden from everyone—especially Marión and my husband.

After that agreement, we started seeing each other almost every day. We would meet for lunch at his apartment from Monday to Friday, except when he had a business meeting. I had no problem being away from home at lunchtime—my husband never eats at home. Besides, he thinks I’m out in the afternoons for dance classes and rehearsal. So along with lunch, I give myself over to pleasure with my lover.

Eduardo is very playful in bed. I’ve discovered that I am too. My husband is very traditional and rarely changes things when it comes to sex. In contrast, my lover is incredibly creative and extremely passionate. I love learning and experimenting with new sexual games with him. He makes me feel younger and freer. He helps me forget that I’m the wife of a doctor who doesn’t love me and cheats on me shamelessly.

I can’t really blame Cristian for not loving me. Our marriage was one of convenience—arranged by our parents. When I married him, the million-dollar debt my father owed my now father-in-law was considered paid. My husband has only ever been physically attracted to me and has never made the slightest effort to love me. I, on the other hand, learned to care for him, even though he treats me coldly and harshly. I’ve never understood why he insists we stay married, especially when he seems so attached to his current mistress.

Eduardo treats me very differently than Cristian does. He’s kind and warm. I’d even dare to say he’s affectionate with me, even though we’ve only known each other for a short time. I love being alone with him—not just for the sex, but also for the way he treats me. He makes me feel like a valuable and desired woman. Sometimes I feel guilty for being his lover—both because I’m a married woman and because he’s much younger than I am. But those guilty thoughts don’t last long, because he always brings me back to a present that I absolutely love.

My lover is a very attractive man. He has dominant, cat-like eyes that kill me every time he looks at me. He’s very tall, with a body that looks like it was sculpted by an artist. He dresses elegantly in designer clothes and knows exactly how to make the most of what genetics gave him. If it weren’t for the last names and the story of the family’s “black sheep,” I never would’ve guessed that Cristian and Eduardo are brothers. They have absolutely nothing in common.

As I danced at the cabaret, I kept thinking about all of this. And I felt genuinely glad that those two brothers were nothing alike. Eduardo is my safe place—a refuge from the shitty life Cristian gives me. My husband only provides me with material things, but he forgets that I have feelings and emotions. My lover, through his attentiveness and the way he treats me, fills every void my husband fails to.

After finishing my work hours, I went to the academy—only to be met with the unpleasant news that my husband had been there. He spoke with the director, asking her to convince me to quit my studies. In exchange, he offered her a large sum of money, which she refused. When I found out, I burst into tears from sheer rage. I couldn’t understand how Cristian could go to such lengths just to control me. Catalina, the director, suggested I take a hard look at my marriage—and, if necessary, consider getting a divorce. She’s a feminist, so backward, macho types make her break out in hives.

When I got home, as usual, Cristian was drinking whiskey. He cynically asked how my day had gone. I exploded. I confronted him harshly about what he’d done. I told him that being his wife didn’t make me his property, and that he had no right to try to bribe the academy director into convincing me to quit.

"I’m not going to keep funding your whims, Ángela," Cristian said, cutting off my rant.

I told him I didn’t need his money—that I had savings and could pay for my studies and everything else I needed. He threatened to close the joint bank accounts we shared. But I had already taken the precaution of opening a separate debit account where I kept my savings. I opened it at a bank where he isn’t a client, so only I could manage or close it.

He stood up and came toward me. He grabbed me by the neck and pushed me against the wall. I was struggling to breathe—and I was done listening to his threats. I told him to let me go. He didn’t. So I kneed him in the groin. He let go and doubled over in pain. I told him this was the first and last time he would ever lay a hand on me like that. I warned him that next time I’d go to the police and contact a lawyer to start divorce proceedings. I know he doesn’t want either of those things, so I believe he won’t try to hurt me physically again.

Then I went to take a shower. When I came out of the bathroom, he was gone. He had probably gone to see his mistress and would spend the night with her. I didn’t eat dinner—just had a fruit salad that Ana prepared for me. Then I went to bed, but I couldn’t sleep. I spent the entire night awake and alone, replaying everything that had happened the day before.

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