Five Years, One Text

A three-year affair. Fiery, dizzying, painful. Sunrise runs, seaside hikes, heartbreaks in parked cars; countless I love yous exchanged in secret. Year Four: drunk, he watched his husband kiss me from another room. Voices raised, explanations demanded, a truth revealed: “I have feelings for him, too.” A throuple formed. We made love, I learned cribbage, future plans forged. Puzzled, our children raised questions, neighbors got wind, rumors swirled. Bitter words exchanged, longtime friendships ended, a house sold. Impaired, we hung on for two years, bleeding hope into the ashes. It ended with a text: “You’re right, this isn’t gonna work.”

The view from our room at Cavallo Point in Sausalito, where they took me for my birthday last year.