I’ve never claimed to be lucky in matters of the heart. As for smart? That’s a judgment others have been eager to withhold from me. Some might call this piece a confession, others a cautionary tale. However, I’m not seeking absolution, and you can choose to digest and interpret my story as you will. Regardless, here’s how it all unfolded, to the best of my recollection.
I had been dating Kate for some time. Although far from the type of relationship that flowed like a gentle breeze, by late summer of 2023, all the turmoil and trepidation of early romance had cemented into what seemed to be a strong, resilient bond. By that point, we had been together for about two years, I believe. We had moved in earlier that summer, and everything was progressing as one would expect in a successful relationship. We cooked together, talked together, bickered (but not too much), and the intimacy was just infrequent enough to keep me longing. Everything was going according to plan.
And then I met her.
It was a Friday night, and Kate had gone to visit her parents in New Hampshire (believe it or not, people actually hail from there). I decided to go out with my friends Alex and Justin. There’s a bar at the end of my street, so I chose to meet them there. I arrived a bit early, having nothing pressing at home, and figured I might as well get a head start on the night. I settled into a corner seat at the bar near the entrance and ordered my first beer (of many) that evening. That’s when I saw Marianna.
I recognized her instantly – Marianna, from my Industrial Economics class. She had caught my eye from the first day of the semester which had started just a few days prior, not just because of her damn near hypnotizing beauty, but also because of the way she effortlessly commanded attention during class discussions. Marianna had just moved here, studying abroad for the semester from Colombia. A fact that, coincidentally, connected us in a near visceral way – my grandmother was also from Colombia. As I watched her make her way to the bar, I felt a strange mix of excitement and guilt. The excitement was easy to understand; the guilt, I chose to ignore. Marianna’s eyes scanned the room, and when they landed on me, a flash of recognition crossed her face. She smiled, and I felt my heart skip a beat. Before I could second-guess myself, I raised my hand in a small wave, silently inviting her over.
Marianna glided towards me with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly in the dim, dank bar. As she approached, I caught a whiff of her perfume – a scent that was more intoxicating than anything I would be drinking that night. “Ah hello,” she said, her accent wrapping around the word like silk. “Leandro, right?” The way she said my name made me want to melt. Her gigantic brown eyes beamed down at me, lighting up my minuscule corner of the world. I gestured to the empty stool beside me, my throat suddenly dry. As she sat down, I became acutely aware of how close we were, her knee barely brushing against mine. The longer her knee rested against mine, the more it filled space in my mind. I signaled the bartender, desperate for a distraction from the electricity I felt coursing between us. “So what are you doing here? I mean…what brings you out tonight?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. Marianna’s shining brown eyes gleamed as she leaned in, conspiratorially. “I’m celebrating,” she said. “I survived my first week in America! I did not get mugged and I do not the diabetes.” She had a prideful grin that was infectious, and I found myself smirking back at her. “That calls for a toast,” I declared, damn near forgetting the life that I had already built for myself just up the street with the woman that had quickly vacated herself from my mind.
I flagged down the bartender, ordering two shots of mezcal – a nod to our shared heritage that I hoped would impress her. As we clinked our glasses together, Marianna’s fingers brushed against mine, sending a jolt through my body that had nothing to do with the alcohol. “To survival,” I toasted, my eyes locked on hers. She threw her head back as she downed the shot, exposing the elegant curve of her neck. I found myself staring, mesmerized, as she set the glass down and licked a stray drop from her lips. “So, Leandro,” she purred, leaning in close enough that I could feel her breath on my ear. “Tell me about yourself. What does an American boy do for fun around here?” The question hung in the air between us, loaded with possibility. In that moment, I knew I was standing on a precipice, teetering on the edge of a decision that could change everything. The smart thing would be to mention Kate, to establish boundaries. But as Marianna’s knee pressed more firmly against mine, I realized that ‘smart’ was the last thing on my mind.
“Well,” I began, my voice hoarse with a mixture of mezcal and desire, “what isn’t there to do! I’d really love to show you around, actually. I know all of the best spots. All of the best kept secrets, you know?” I leaned in closer, mirroring her posture, our faces now mere inches apart. “But first, maybe we could start with another drink, and then… who knows?” The words left my mouth before I could fully even process what I was saying. I felt myself move in closer. My hand found it’s way on to the top of her thigh. I was flirting, blatantly, shamelessly. The bar was packed and we were alone.
Marianna’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “I like the sound of that,” she replied, her accent thicker now, dripping. Was she nervous too? “But first, tell me about this program. I might have survived this week but you do it all so differently. Americans are so weird.”
The mention of the the Brooklyn College Economics Program should have been a splash of cold water, a reminder of the future, of responsibilities, of commitments. Instead, it felt like another thread connecting me to the intoxicating woman beside me. I launched into the ins and outs of the program, the tips and tricks to living in Brooklyn, which professors to avoid and which one’s to kiss up to. As I spoke, Marianna listened intently, her hand occasionally brushing my arm, each touch sending shivers down my spine.
Time seemed to blur, the bar around us fading into a hazy background. We ordered more drinks, our conversations flowing seamlessly from English to Spanish and back again. I found myself captivated by every word, every laugh, every subtle movement of her body. The guilt I’d felt earlier, if I ever truly felt it, was now a distant memory, overshadowed by the intoxicating present.
It wasn’t until I felt a hand on my shoulder that I realized how much time had passed. I turned, half-annoyed at the interruption, to find Alex standing there, a knowing smirk on his face. “Hey man, we’ve been trying to get your attention for the last ten minutes. You gonna introduce us to your friend?”
My face felt hot as it turned a crimson red. “Oh hey, this is Marianna. She’s in one of my Econ classes”, I unconsciously untangled myself from Marianna. “Marianna, this is Alex.”
“Nice to meet you. So sorry to interrupt. I can let you guys get back to your…conversation”, Alex said with a smile that was one part amusement, two parts embarrassment.
As Alex retreated back to his table, I felt a sudden, sobering awareness wash over me. The spell that Marianna had cast was momentarily broken, and reality came rushing back in. I glanced at my watch – it was well a little past 9:30. Kate would probably be calling. The thought of her name now felt like a bucket of ice water down my back. For the first time in our relationship, I resented even the idea of talking to her.
“Everything okay?” Marianna’s voice was soft, concerned. Her hand was still on my arm, and I realized with a start that I hadn’t moved away from her.
“Yeah, I just…” I trailed off, unsure how to finish that sentence. Just remembered I have a girlfriend? Just realized I’m on the brink of making a massive mistake? Just discovered I’m apparently the kind of person who could do this?
Marianna’s eyes searched mine, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of understanding. But then she smiled, that dazzling, intoxicating smile, and leaned in close again. “Another drink?” she suggested, her lips nearly brushing my ear.
I knew I should say no. I knew I should make an excuse, say goodnight, go home to my empty apartment and call Kate. I knew all of this, and yet…
“I…uh,” I heard myself say, signaling the bartender. “I think I should head home.”
As I paid for our drinks, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. Kate’s smiling face lit up the screen. I stared at it for a long moment, my thumb hovering over the ‘answer’ button. Then, with a mixture of shame and exhilaration that made my stomach churn, I silenced the call and slipped the phone back into my pocket.
Marianna now placing her hand on my knee, looked deep in my eyes. “Let me walk you,” she said quietly.
My heart raced in a way that I never knew it could. “Okay,” I said so softly I’m not completely sure any sound came out, knowing full well that whatever happened next, there would be no going back.
I did my best to avoid Alex and Justin and we stumbled out of the bar into the cool night air, the sudden quiet a stark contrast to the noisy interior we’d left behind. Marianna’s hand found it’s way to my bicep as we started walking, her fingers dancing gently up and down my bicep as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The streets were still busy, filled with the typical Friday night crowd, but I barely noticed them. My entire world had shrunk to the space between Marianna and me, to the warmth of her hand in mine, to the soft sound of her breathing.
“So, where do you live?” she asked, her voice playful. I pointed vaguely down the street, suddenly aware of how close my apartment was. How easy it would be to invite her up. How disastrous that would be.
We walked in silence for a while, the tension between us building with each step. I could feel Marianna stealing glances at me, could sense the question forming on her lips. When we reached the stoop of my building, she turned to face me, her eyes searching mine.
“Leandro,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper. “I..listen. Back in my country. I have a boyfriend.”
My brain felt like it was filled with cotton as I was flattened by a monsoon of emotions. I swallowed hard, my mouth dry. “Marianna, I…” I trailed off, the words sticking in my throat. I should tell her about Kate. That would make everything right. That would bring some balance to the night. Then I could just say goodnight. But I knew there was something there. My mind and my body were at war with each other. I suspected her’s were as well.
The time for thinking had passed with the second shot of mezcal.
She leaned in and kissed me.
The world exploded into technicolor. Her lips were soft, urgent against mine, her body pressing closer. I felt her hands in my hair, on my back, pulling me in. I was drowning, burning, flying all at once. It was everything I’d imagined and more.
When we finally broke apart, both breathless, I saw my own desire mirrored in her eyes. “I…but…” I explored the totality of my lexicon but felt short.
So I kissed her.
When we parted again, she rested her hands on my shoulders and stared at me for not nearly long enough. I wanted nothing more than to invite her up. To throw her on my (and Kate’s) bed and rip off every piece of her clothing. But the words just wouldn’t form themselves in my mouth. I think she must have grown tired of waiting because she finally said “Thank you for celebrating with me, Leandro. I will see you Monday, no?”
All I could do was earnestly smile and nod. As she walked away I wanted to call back to her. Chase her down the street. Do anything. But I did nothing. And maybe that was for the best.
I slumped down on the stoop and sat for a moment. I felt my phone buzzed again in my pocket. Kate. I hesitated for a moment, the weight of my decision pressing down on me.
With a deep sigh, I pulled out my phone and stared at Kate’s name on the screen. The guilt I had been suppressing all night came rushing back, mingling with the lingering desire and confusion from my encounter with Marianna. I answered the call.
“Hey, babe,” Kate’s voice came through, warm and familiar. “I was getting worried. Everything okay?”
I cleared my throat, trying to steady my voice. “Yeah, sorry. I, uh, I went out with Alex and Justin. Lost track of time.”
“Oh, that’s nice! Did you have fun?”
The question hung in the air, loaded with an innocence that made my stomach churn. “Yeah,” I managed. “It was… interesting.”
As Kate launched into a recap of her day with her parents, I found my mind wandering back to Marianna. The taste of her lips, the feel of her body against mine, the look in her eyes as she walked away. I was only half-listening to Kate, offering the occasional “mm-hmm” and “oh, really?” when appropriate.
“Leandro? Are you sure you’re okay?” Kate’s voice cut through my thoughts, concern evident in her tone.
“I’m fine,” I lied, rubbing my face with my free hand. “Just tired. Had a few drinks.”
“Alright, well, get some sleep. I love you.”
Those three words hit me like a punch to the gut. “I love you too,” I replied automatically, the words feeling hollow in my mouth.
I hung up.
Those words sit bitter in the bottom of my palate – rotting. I had always taken pride in being a certain kind of person and in the matter of three hours I had fully deconstructed that vision of myself. If he ever actually existed at all.
But like I said – I do not seek absolution with this story and unfortunately it is far from over.
-Leandro Colon
Kate reading this 👁️👄👁️