After a while, Martina realizes she has barely touched her food. Her body is tense, her shoulder muscles stiff, her jaw clenched… Her mind wanders. Desire pulses inside her with an intensity she’s starting to find hard to hide: a damp heat that settles between her legs every time Rebeca unconsciously runs her tongue over her lower lip, or when she crosses her arms and her T-shirt tightens across her chest.
She needs air. She needs to get out of this atmosphere thick with laughter and the constant presence of the woman she shouldn’t desire.
“I need to breathe,” she tells herself.
No one seems to hear her as she sets her glass down on the table and heads toward the balcony.
The night air greets her with a breeze that brushes against her warm skin. She rests her hands on the iron railing, feeling the cold of the metal against her palms. The street is quiet at this hour, lit by streetlights that cast golden circles on the asphalt. From inside the apartment come the muffled voices of the party, like a distant echo.
Martina closes her eyes for a moment. She takes a breath and tries to calm the whirlwind inside her.
But then she hears Julia’s voice through her bedroom window, which is wide open.
“Honey, I already explained it to you the other day, I can’t keep making excuses all the time, I’m at Martina’s birthday party right now,” Julia says in a low voice.
Martina frowns and freezes, her heart racing.
“I had such a great time with you here the other day…” Julia continues, letting out an intimate laugh that pierces Martina’s chest. “Yeah… I’m dying to see you too and devour those lips I love so much…”
Martina trips over something and a noise is heard. A sudden silence falls over the bedroom.
Martina can barely breathe, and the blood is pounding in her ears.
Then she hears Julia’s voice, quieter and more hurried.
“…I have to go. I’ll call you later.”
Martina’s mind goes blank. For a few seconds, she can’t think clearly. The pieces don’t quite fit together. Her heartpounds hard in her chest, and finally she moves, stepping back into the living room with trembling legs.
The music is still playing. The conversations continue. But everything seems distant, as if it were happening behind a glass wall.
Cora is the first to notice her. Her eyes widen slightly as she notices how pale Martina looks.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, approaching quickly. “Martina, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Martina doesn’t answer. She walks past her without stopping, almost pushing her unintentionally. She crosses the living room, feeling all eyes fixed on her back. She opens the front door.
And she goes out.
The stairs seem endless as she descends, and the steps blur beneath her feet. Her breathing becomes irregular, ragged. When she finally reaches the street, the cold night air hits her face like a slap. She brings her hands to her head, tangling her fingers in her hair.
Tears begin to well up in her eyes, hot and treacherous. She doesn’t understand why it hurts so much, especially since she, too, has crossed that line. Because she, too, has cheated on Julia with Rebeca. But even so… the feeling that settles into her chest is devastating, as if someone had ripped something vital from her.
The building’s door opens behind her, and Martina doesn’t turn around until she hears footsteps behind her.
“Why did you leave like that?” Rebeca asks, surprised by Martina’s state. “What’s wrong?”
Martina looks at her. And suddenly, all the restraint she’s held onto all night breaks at once. She takes a step toward her and hugs her tightly, burying her face in her neck. The connection is immediate. Necessary. Rebeca’s body is warm, solid, and the refuge she’s needed all these years.
“I think… I think Julia has been cheating on me too…”
The words come out in broken gasps.
Rebeca stands still for a second, her arms wrapping around her even tighter.
For a moment she says nothing, just breathes close to her ear, and then she answers.
“I know…”
