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THE LATINA SEX AND THE CITY
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Welcome to Love Trips, a weekly column sharing Sujeiry’s relationship stumbles and (hopefully) wins. Subscribe to get full access to her love stories (it’s like a telenovela!), including audio posts. Next week’s story, “Pussy,” is only for paid subscribers, so subscribe today!
We walked in hand in hand. I turned to D and beamed. This was a monumental moment for us as a couple. We knew what it meant to merge our friends and family together under a Midtown, rooftop bar in NYC. D and I were a serious couple. We were the real fucking deal.
I floated up the stairs. Nothing could kill my vibe. I surveyed the room as I entered and didn’t see any familiar faces. D held me by the waist with his right hand and waved at a girl at the bar with his left. “That’s my friend, Grecia,” he said. And he led me to her.
Grecia hugged D first. She smiled from ear to ear and took a swig from her drink. She looked at me, her smile slightly fading, and pulled me in for a kiss on the cheek, like a good Dominican girl. That was my last interaction with Grecia that night. Despite this being our moment, she chose to mingle with D’s friends as they trickled in.
I felt her distance. Her detachment. Her lack of interest in getting to know me or my loved ones. His friends felt her warmth as she laughed alongside them, chugging drinks while sitting across from me at the other end of the long table. D stood by my side most of the night. His eyes on me. His lips kissing me. His arms holding me. We had sex in the girls bathroom. We were the real fucking deal.
And at the end of the night, drunk with liquid courage (I had enough to drink to have sex in a public restroom), I leaned into D and asked, “What’s up with your friend, Grecia?” I couldn’t shake her energy. I couldn’t ignore my woman’s intuition. Read the entire story on the Love Sujeiry E-Zine.