My gay best friend and my husband fell in love. They’ve been having an affair for a year. They want to all live together and raise the kids. I’m losing my mind. My name is Rachel. I’m 34 years old. And three days ago, my entire life exploded in a way I never could have predicted. Not in a million years.

I need to tell someone this story because I feel like I’m going insane. Like actually losing my grip on reality. So, here’s what happened. Tuesday night, normal Tuesday, I made spaghetti for dinner.

My husband Derrick and I were sitting at the kitchen table with our two kids, Lily, who’s seven, and Mason who’s five. We were talking about Mason’s soccer practice and Lily’s upcoming school play. Just normal family stuff. Dererick’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it and his whole face changed like the color just drained right out of it. He stood up so fast his chair scraped against the floor. “I need to take this,” he said and walked out to the garage. The kids didn’t notice anything weird, but I did because Dererick never does that.

He’s always been super present during family dinner. It’s like his thing. No phones at the table. Full attention on the kids. That’s been our rule since Lily was born. I tried to brush it off. Told myself it was probably work stuff. Derrick’s a project manager at a tech company, so sometimes he gets urgent calls, but something in my gut felt wrong. He came back in about 10 minutes later. His eyes were red, like he’d been crying or was about to cry.

“You okay?” I asked. He nodded but wouldn’t look at me. Yeah, just work drama. After we put the kids to bed, I found him sitting in our bedroom in the dark. Just sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing. Derek, what’s going on? He looked at me and I swear I saw something break in his expression.

We need to talk, but not tonight. This weekend, I promise we’ll talk this weekend. My heart started racing. Those are the words you never want to hear, right? We need to talk. Everyone knows what that means. Just tell me now, I said. Are you having an affair? The question just came out. I don’t even know why I asked it.

Derrick and I had been together for 12 years, married for nine. We were solid. We were the couple that other couples looked at and said, “Relationship goals. We never even really fought. He didn’t answer right away, which was answer enough.” “Oh my god,” I whispered. “You are. You’re cheating on me, Rachel.

It’s not that simple. Not that simple? How is it not that simple? Are you sleeping with someone else? Yes or no? Yes, he said quietly. But it’s not what you think. I felt like the floor was falling out from under me. I sat down hard on the bed next to him. How long? About a year. A year.

An entire year of my life was apparently a lie. Who is she? I asked. My voice sounded far away, like it wasn’t even coming from me. Dererick was quiet for a long time. Too long. It’s not a she, he finally said. My brain couldn’t process that for a second. What? It’s Marcus. Marcus? My best friend Marcus? My gay best friend Marcus, who I’ve known since college. Marcus, who is the best man at our wedding? Marcus who comes over every Sunday for brunch.

Marcus who babysits our kids. Marcus who I tell everything to. That Marcus. I actually laughed. Not because it was funny, but because it was so absurd I didn’t know what else to do. You’re joking. I said this is some kind of sick joke. I’m not joking. Rachel, I’m so sorry. I never meant for this to happen. Neither of us did.

It just Marcus is gay. I interrupted. He’s been openly gay since he was 16. He dated men all through college. He’s gay. I know. I thought I was straight. I’ve always thought I was straight. But Rachel, I’m not. I’m bisexual and I’m in love with him. I stood up. I felt like I was going to throw up or pass out or both. Get out. I said, “Rachel, get out. Get out of this room. Get out of this house. I can’t even look at you right now.

Dererick started crying. Actually crying, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t care. My husband of 9 years and my best friend of 15 years had been lying to me for an entire year. He left. I heard him pack a bag and leave through the front door. I sat on our bedroom floor and I couldn’t even cry.

I was too shocked, too numb. That was Tuesday night. Wednesday morning, I had to get up and make breakfast for the kids like everything was normal. I told them daddy had to go on a work trip. Lily asked why he didn’t say goodbye, and I made up some excuse about it being last minute.

As soon as I dropped them at school, I called Marcus. He answered on the first ring. Rachel, don’t. I said, don’t say my name like that. Don’t say anything, actually. I’m coming over. I drove to his apartment, the same apartment I’d been to a thousand times, where we’d watched movies and drunk wine and talked about everything.

Where he’d supported me through my dad’s passing two years ago, where I’d helped him through his terrible breakup with his ex-boyfriend Kevin. Marcus opened the door before I could even knock. He looked as terrible as Dererick had. Dark circles under his eyes. Hair a mess. We stood there looking at each other.

How could you? I finally said. How could you do this to me? I never wanted to hurt you, he said. His voice was shaking. Rachel, you have to believe me. This is killing me. You’re killing me. I said, you are my best friend, my person. And you’ve been sleeping with my husband behind my back for a year. It wasn’t like that.

It wasn’t some casual thing. Rachel, I’m in love with him. Oh, well, that makes it so much better. I said, “You’re in love with him? Great. Wonderful. That totally justifies destroying my family. That’s not fair.” Not fair.

You want to talk about fair? Was it fair to smile at me every Sunday while you were having an affair with my husband? Was it fair to let me cry on your shoulder about work stress and kid problems while you were probably texting Derek the whole time? Was it fair to act like my best friend while you were the biggest liar in my life? Marcus started crying, too.

Big ugly tears, but I was done caring about his feelings. How did it even start? I asked. I need to know. I need to understand how two people I trusted more than anyone in the world could betray me like this. He wiped his eyes. Last October. You remember when Dererick helped me move furniture into this place? I did remember. I’d stayed home with the kids while Dererick went to help Marcus move a couch and some shelves. They’d been gone for like six hours.

I remembered thinking it took a really long time, but figured they’d grabbed dinner after. We were just talking, Marcus continued, about everything, about life, and he told me he’d been having these thoughts, these feelings about men that he’d been suppressing his whole life. He was having this identity crisis, and he didn’t know how to talk to you about it. He was scared you’d leave him or think differently of him.

So, you decided to sleep with him instead of telling him to talk to his wife. No, it wasn’t like that. I just listened. I told him it was okay to question things. I told him he should talk to you and we left it at that. But then a few weeks later he texted me said he couldn’t stop thinking about our conversation. We met for coffee.

Then coffee turned into more meetings. We were just talking at first, just friends. But then then what? I demanded. Then one night in December, we kissed and everything changed. I felt sick. December. I tried to think back to December. Christmas with my parents. Mason’s fifth birthday party. Everything had seemed so normal. Where? I asked.

Where have you been doing this? Mostly here. Sometimes in his car. Once or twice at a hotel when we could both get away. Did you do it in my house? In my bed? No. God, no. Rachel, never. We would never. Oh, you have boundaries? How noble. We stood there in his living room.

the same living room where I painted my toenails on his couch just two weeks ago while we watched reality TV. Everything looked the same, but nothing would ever be the same. I should have told you sooner. Marcus said, “We both should have, but we didn’t know how.” And then the longer it went on, the harder it got.

We kept saying we’d tell you next week, next month. We kept saying we needed to figure things out first. And I know that’s not an excuse. I know we’re horrible people, but Rachel, I swear I never stopped caring about you. You’re still my best friend. I’m not your best friend. I said, “Best friends don’t do this.

You’re nothing to me. You’re just another person who lied to my face.” I left before he could say anything else. I drove around for an hour because I couldn’t go home yet. I couldn’t be in that house with all those memories that were now tainted. My phone kept buzzing. Derek, Marcus, Derek, Marcus. I ignored all of it.

Finally, I went home. I had to pick up the kids soon. I had to pretend everything was fine. But that night, after the kids were asleep, Dererick came back. He knocked on the door and I almost didn’t answer. But I knew we had to have this conversation eventually. I let him in. We sat in the living room like strangers. I’m sorry, he said. I’m so so sorry, Rachel. You didn’t deserve this.

You’ve been an amazing wife and an incredible mother, and I’ve ruined everything. Why? I asked. That’s all I want to know. Why was I not enough? Was our life not enough? It has nothing to do with you. You were always enough. more than enough. But I was lying to myself for our entire relationship. I convinced myself I was straight because that’s what I was supposed to be.

That’s what everyone expected. My parents, my friends, society. So, I fell in love with you and I built this life with you and it was real. All of it was real. I do love you, Rachel. I really do. Just not the way you love him. He didn’t answer. Which was an answer. So, what now? I asked.

You want a divorce? You’re leaving me for Marcus. We want to talk to you about something, Dererick said carefully. Both of us together. But I know you’re not ready for that yet. Talk to me about what? He hesitated. About a solution. A way forward where nobody has to lose everything. What does that even mean? Just when you’re ready.

There’s something we want to propose, but only when you’re ready to hear it. That was Wednesday night. Thursday, I took the day off work. I couldn’t function. I just sat in my house in a days while the kids were at school. I kept looking at photos on my phone. Dererick and me on our wedding day.

Marcus giving a speech at our reception about how happy he was that I’d found my soulmate. Family photos from every holiday and birthday and vacation. It was all a lie. Not all of it. Some of it was real. But how was I supposed to know which parts? My sister Jennifer called. She’s 3 years older than me and we’re really close.

I hadn’t told her anything yet because I didn’t know how to explain it. Hey, she said, just checking in. You’ve been quiet lately. Everything okay? I burst into tears. Couldn’t help it. I told her everything. “Are you kidding me?” she said when I finished. Dererick and Marcus together for a year.

I know, Rachel. That’s insane. That’s actually insane. What are you going to do? I don’t know. I can’t think. I can’t process this. Derrick keeps saying they want to talk to me about some kind of solution, but I don’t even know what that means. You should hear them out, Jennifer said. I know you don’t want to.

I know you probably want to never see either of them again. But you have two kids with Derek. You need to figure out custody and finances and all that stuff, so maybe you should hear what they have to say. She was right. As much as I wanted to just run away from all of this, I couldn’t.

I had Lily and Mason to think about. Okay, I said. Okay, I’ll talk to them. Friday morning, I texted Derek, told him I was ready to hear whatever he wanted to say. He responded immediately asking if he and Marcus could come over that evening after the kids were at my mom’s house.

I asked my mom to take Lily and Mason for a sleepover. She was thrilled. She loves having them. She had no idea what was happening. Nobody did. At 7:00, Dererick and Marcus showed up together. Seeing them walk up to my door together made me want to throw up. They looked like a couple. They were standing close to each other.

Marcus’ hand brushed Derrick’s arm. I let them in. We sat in the living room, them on the couch together, me and the armchair across from them. It felt like a setup, like an intervention, but I was the one being intervened on. “Thank you for agreeing to this,” Dererick started. Just tell me what you want, I said.

Do you want a divorce? Custody arrangement? What? We don’t want a divorce, Dererick said. I stared at him. What? We’ve been talking, Marcus said. About everything about what we want, about what’s best for everyone, especially Lily and Mason. And we have a proposal, Dererick continued. We know it’s unconventional.

We know it might sound crazy, but we’re hoping you’ll at least consider it. Consider what? They looked at each other. Some silent communication passed between them. We want to all live together, Dererick said. The four of us? Well, the five of us. You, me, Marcus, and the kids.

I literally could not believe what I was hearing. You want what? Think about it, Marcus said quickly. The kids wouldn’t have to go back and forth between two houses. We’d all be there for them and you wouldn’t have to do everything alone. We’d share responsibilities, share the parenting. It could actually be really good for them.

Are you out of your minds? I said. My voice was louder than I meant it to be. You think I want to live with my husband and his boyfriend? You think I want to watch you two be in love while I’m just what? The roommate? The third wheel in my own marriage? You wouldn’t be a third wheel, Dererick said. You’d be our family.

We’d figure it out together. This is insane. This is actually insane. You’re asking me to just accept that my husband is in love with someone else and live with it. Literally live with it. We’d get a bigger house, Marcus said. Like that was the problem. Somewhere with enough space for everyone to have privacy.

Separate bedrooms. You wouldn’t have to see anything you don’t want to see. I don’t want to see any of it. I said, I don’t want to see you holding hands in the kitchen or kissing good night or whatever couple stuff you do. I don’t want to hear it through the walls. I don’t want to know about it. We understand this is hard, Dererick said.

We know we’re asking a lot, but Rachel, I still care about you. You’re still my family. You’re still the mother of my children. I don’t want to lose you completely. And the kids, they need both of us. They can have both of us in a normal custody arrangement, I said.

Week on, week off, or weekends like normal divorced parents. But why should they have to go through that? Marcus asked. Why should they have to pack bags and switch houses and feel like they’re being torn between two homes? If we all lived together, they’d have stability, consistency, all three of their parents under one roof. You’re not their parent.

I snapped at Marcus. He flinched like I’d slapped him. I know I’m not technically, but I love them like they’re mine. I’ve been in their lives since they were born. I want to keep being in their lives. You should have thought about that before you started sleeping with their father. We all sat in silence.

I was shaking with anger, with disbelief, with about 17 other emotions I couldn’t even name. This is called polyamory, Dererick said quietly. It’s a real thing. People do it. Families do it. It’s just about love and respect and communication. Love and respect. I repeated. You’re talking to me about respect.

After lying to me for a year, “You’re right,” he said. “We don’t deserve your respect. We don’t deserve your consideration, but we’re asking for it anyway for the kids. Don’t use the kids as an excuse for this.” I said, “This isn’t about the kids. This is about you two wanting to have your cake and eat it, too.

You want to be together, but you don’t want to deal with the consequences. You don’t want to explain to Lily and Mason why daddy doesn’t live with mommy anymore. You don’t want to split holidays and birthdays, so you’re asking me to just go along with this nightmare so you don’t have to deal with the hard stuff?” “That’s not true,” Marcus said.

“Isn’t it? Be honest. This arrangement benefits you two way more than it benefits me.” They didn’t have an answer for that. I need you to leave. I said both of you. I can’t do this right now. They left. Dererick tried to hug me on his way out, but I stepped back. I couldn’t let him touch me. I spent the whole weekend alone.

Mom kept the kids until Sunday evening. I didn’t eat, barely slept, just sat with this impossible decision. Because here’s the thing. As insane as their proposal was, there was this tiny part of me that could see it. Could see how it might actually work. Not the romantic part.

I could never ever be okay with watching Derrick and Marcus together. That would kill me. But the practical part, the kids really would benefit from having all of us around. I wouldn’t have to parent alone half the time. We could afford a nicer place with three incomes. Lily and Mason wouldn’t have to shuffle between houses.

And there was this other thing I couldn’t quite admit to myself yet. I didn’t want to be alone. I didn’t want to start over. I didn’t want to be a divorced single mom at 34. I didn’t want to split custody of my babies. I called Jennifer Sunday morning. You’re not seriously considering this? She said when I told her about their proposal. I don’t know.

Maybe, Rachel. No, absolutely not. This is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. You cannot agree to this. But what if it could work? What if it won’t work? How could it possibly work? You’d be living with your cheating husband and the man he cheated with. You’d have to see them together every single day.

That’s torture. That’s actual psychological torture. But the kids, the kids will be fine, Jennifer said firmly. Kids adapt. They’re resilient. You know what they won’t be fine with? Growing up in a house full of tension and resentment and sadness because that’s what this would be.

You think you can just turn off your feelings? You think you won’t be devastated every time you see them look at each other? Every time they touch every time you realize your husband is in the next room with another person. She was right. Of course, she was right. But I was so tired. Tired of crying. Tired of being angry. Tired of having to figure out what came next.

What if I’m never going to find anyone else? I said quietly. What if Dererick was it for me and now I’m going to be alone forever? Then you’ll be alone, Jennifer said gently. And that’s okay. That’s better than this. Rachel, you deserve so much more than being someone’s backup plan.

You deserve someone who chooses you first, who loves you the way you deserve to be loved. Dererick did love me, past tense. He loved you, now he loves Marcus, and I’m sorry, but you can’t build a life on past love. After I hung up with her, I made my decision. Monday morning, I texted Derek, told him my answer was no.

I couldn’t do what they were asking. We needed to proceed with the divorce and figure out a real custody arrangement. He called immediately. Rachel, please just think about it a little longer. I have thought about it. The answer is no. What you’re asking is impossible. It’s not impossible. There are whole communities of people who make this work. Well, I’m not those people.

I’m just a regular person who married someone I thought loved me, and now I need to move on with my life. I do love you. Stop saying that. If you loved me, you wouldn’t have done this. If you loved me, you wouldn’t be asking me to accept this. We could try therapy, he said desperately. The three of us with a counselor who specializes in alternative families. There is no three of us, Derek.

There’s you and Marcus, and then there’s me. Separate. That’s how it has to be. I hung up before he could say anything else. The next few days were about logistics, talking to a lawyer, looking at my finances, figuring out how to tell the kids. But then Wednesday afternoon, Marcus showed up at my door.

“I can’t do this,” he said as soon as I opened it. His eyes were wild. “Rachel, I can’t lose you. You’re my best friend. You’re my person. I need you in my life. You should have thought about that before, I said, starting to close the door. He put his hand against it. Wait, please. I need to tell you something.

Something I should have told you a long time ago. What? He took a deep breath. I’ve been in love with you since college. The world tilted. What? I’ve been in love with you for 15 years. Since we met freshman year. That’s why I’ve been in your life all this time.

That’s why I never moved away or drifted apart like other college friends do. Because I couldn’t stand to not see you, but you’re gay. I’m not exactly gay, he said. I mean, I told everyone I was. I dated men exclusively. But the truth is, I’m bisexual or maybe pansexual. I don’t know. Labels are confusing.

But the point is, I’ve always been attracted to you. I’ve just never let myself act on it because I knew you were straight. I knew you saw me as just a friend, so I pushed those feelings down and I accepted being your best friend because that was better than nothing. I couldn’t process this. You’re lying.

You’re just saying this to manipulate me into saying yes to your insane plan. I’m not lying. Ask anyone from college. Ask Jennifer. She knew. I told her sophomore year when I got drunk at that party. I made her promise never to tell you. My mind was racing. Jennifer never told me. All these years. Then why did you sleep with Derek? I asked.

If you love me, why would you hurt me like that? Because I’m a coward, Marcus said. His voice broke. Because Dererick was accessible in a way you never were. because I could have something real with him instead of just dreaming about something I could never have with you. And yes, I know how selfish that sounds.

I know I’m a terrible person, but Rachel, when I’m with Derek, I’m also still close to you. I’m still in your life. If I have to choose between having Dererick or having you, I don’t know if I can choose. That’s not fair. I whispered. You can’t tell me this now. You can’t drop this on me after everything that’s happened.

I know, but I need you to understand this arrangement we’re proposing, it’s not just about Dererick and me wanting to have everything. It’s about me not being able to imagine a life where you’re not in it. And maybe that makes me even more selfish. Maybe that makes this whole thing worse, but it’s the truth.

He left before I could respond. I called Jennifer immediately. Did you know Marcus was in love with me? There was a long pause. He told you. So it’s true. You knew and you never told me. He made me promise. And Rachel, what good would it have done? You were with Derek. You were happy.

Marcus knew nothing could happen. I figured it was better to just let it be. Better for who? For everyone. For you. You had this great friendship with him. Why ruin it by making things weird? Things are already weird, Jennifer. Things are the weirdest they’ve ever been. I hung up and just sat there.

Everything I thought I knew about my life was wrong. Dererick wasn’t straight. Marcus wasn’t just my gay best friend. My entire understanding of my relationships was based on lies. That night, I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about Marcus’ confession, trying to remember if there were signs I’d missed.

Moments that might have meant something different than I thought there were. Now that I was looking for them, there were so many. The way he always remembered my favorite things, my favorite coffee order, my favorite songs, the exact way I liked my birthday cake. The way he looked at me sometimes when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.

The way he always made himself available whenever I needed him, no matter what else was going on in his life. How had I never seen it? Thursday, I asked my mom to watch the kids again. I needed to think. I needed space to process everything.

I drove out to the state park where Dererick and I used to go hiking, found our favorite trail, and just walked. What if I said yes to their arrangement? Not because I was okay with it. I wasn’t okay with it. I would probably never be okay with it. But what if I said yes anyway? The kids would have both their parents, plus Marcus, who they already loved.

We could afford a better life with three incomes. I wouldn’t have to date or try to find someone new. I wouldn’t have to explain to people that I was divorced before I even turned 35. And maybe maybe there was this tiny possibility that having Marcus around would help.

Because if he really had been in love with me all this time and if he was choosing to be with Dererick instead, then maybe seeing me everyday would remind him of what he was giving up. Maybe it would hurt him the way he’d hurt me. Was that petty? Yes, absolutely. But I was entitled to a little pettiness after what they’d done. Or maybe I was just trying to rationalize an insane decision because I was too scared to face being alone. I sat on a rock overlooking the valley and called.

Derek, “I’ll do it,” I said when he answered. “I’ll try your arrangement, but I have conditions. Anything,” he said immediately. “Whatever you need. First, we find a house with enough space that I can have my own area. My own bedroom, bathroom, and a sitting room or something completely separate from where you and Marcus sleep.” “Done.

” Second, I don’t want to see you two being affectionate. No kissing in common areas. No holding hands at the dinner table. Nothing. What you do in private is your business, but I don’t want to witness it. Agreed. Third, we tell people we’re trying an unconventional living arrangement for the kid’s sake.

We don’t use words like polyamory or throppple or whatever. We just say we’re co-parenting in a modern way. Okay. Fourth, if this doesn’t work, if I can’t handle it, we end it immediately and proceed with a normal divorce. No guilt trips, no begging me to keep trying. Fair. And fifth, I said, my voice shaking.

You both have to accept that I might never forgive you. I might be angry for a long time, and you can’t hold that against me. We won’t, Dererick said. Rachel, thank you. Thank you for even considering this. I know it’s asking everything of you. Yeah, I said. It is. We found a house 2 weeks later. It was bigger than what we’d been looking at before. Five bedrooms, two main living areas, big yard for the kids in a good school district.

It was expensive, but with three incomes, it was actually doable. We moved in early November. Told the kids it was an adventure, that Uncle Marcus was going to live with us now and help take care of them. They were thrilled. They loved Marcus. Lily asked why Daddy and I didn’t share a room anymore. I told her grown-ups sometimes like their own space. She accepted this easily, the way kids do. The first few weeks were harder than I expected, and I’d expected it to be hard.

Seeing Dererick and Marcus together, even when they were trying to be discreet, was agony. The way they looked at each other. The way Dererick touched Marcus’ shoulder when he walked past. The way Marcus made Derrick’s coffee in the morning without being asked, knowing exactly how he liked it.

All the little intimacies that I used to share with Derek that I thought were special, but apparently they weren’t special. They were just habits he could recreate with someone new. I spent a lot of time in my room, my sanctuary. I decorated it exactly how I wanted.

Got nice bedding, set up a reading corner, made it mine, but I couldn’t hide forever. We had to figure out how to be a family or whatever this was. We did family dinners, all five of us. Marcus cooked most nights. He was always the best cook out of all of us. We talked about the kids days at school, helped with homework, played board games.

From the outside, it probably looked almost normal, but it wasn’t normal. Nothing about it was normal. I watched Dererick and Marcus when they didn’t think I was looking. Watched them be in love. watch them be happy together. And something inside me broke a little more each day. Jennifer called me every other day. Are you okay? She’d ask.

How’s it going? It’s fine. I’d lie. We’re making it work. You don’t sound fine. I’m adjusting. Rachel, you don’t have to do this. You can still leave. You can still get divorced and have a normal life. This is my life now. I’d say I’m committed to making it work. But the truth was, I didn’t know how much longer I could actually do this. Then December came. About a month after we’d all moved in together. We were decorating for Christmas. All of us in the living room.

Lily and Mason were putting ornaments on the tree. Dererick and Marcus were stringing lights. I was in the kitchen making hot chocolate. I watched them through the doorway. Dererick said something that made Marcus laugh, a real genuine laugh. Then Dererick kissed his cheek.

They’d been so careful not to be affectionate in front of me. But in that moment, they forgot. They were just happy and I lost it. I dropped the spoon I was holding. It clattered loudly against the counter. Everyone looked over. I can’t do this, I said. My voice was shaking. I can’t. I tried. I really tried, but I can’t.

Rachel, Dererick started. No, I’m done. This was a mistake. All of it. I can’t live like this. I can’t watch you two be happy together while I’m just miserable in my own house. I’m calling a lawyer after Christmas. We’re getting divorced for real this time. I went to my room and locked the door. A few minutes later, there was a soft knock. Rachel, it was Marcus. Can we talk? No, please. Just for a minute. I opened the door. He was alone. I’m leaving.

He said, “What? I’m moving out. This isn’t fair to you.” We asked too much. I asked too much. I thought I could have everything, but I was wrong. Where will you go? I’ll find another apartment. It’s fine. You and Dererick can figure out your marriage or your divorce or whatever you need. But you shouldn’t have to live with me.

That was selfish. Does Dererick know you’re saying this? Not yet. But he’ll understand. He loves you, Rachel. He really does. Maybe not the way he loves me, but he does love you, and you deserve better than this. I thought you said you couldn’t imagine a life where I wasn’t in it, I said. I can’t, he said quietly. But I’ll have to learn. He left my room. I heard him and Dererick talking in low voices downstairs. Heard Dererick’s voice rise in protest.

Then go quiet, I cried. Not because I wanted Marcus to stay, but because I was losing something I didn’t even fully understand. Some version of family that could have existed in another universe where nobody had lied and betrayed and broken everything. Christmas was weird.

We all pretended to be festive for the kids. Marcus was still there because he hadn’t found a place yet. We did presents and Christmas dinner and everything we were supposed to do. But there was this heaviness in the house, this awareness that it was ending. The day after Christmas, Dererick came to my room. We need to talk, he said. Okay.

We sat on my bed, the same bed that used to be in our master bedroom when we were just a married couple with a normal life. “I don’t want a divorce,” Dererick said. Derek, we can’t keep doing this, not this arrangement. I agree this isn’t working, but I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to split our family. I don’t understand what you’re saying.

Marcus is moving out. He found a place. He’s leaving next week. And I think he should go. This three-person thing was a mistake. But Rachel, what if it was just us again? You and me and the kids? You and me? What about Marcus? I’d still see him, but not here. Not in your home. We’d figure something out.

Maybe he visits sometimes when you’re not around. Or I meet him elsewhere. I don’t know. We haven’t worked out the details. But the point is, you wouldn’t have to see it. Wouldn’t have to live with it. I stared at him.

So, you want to keep having an affair with Marcus, just not under my roof? I wouldn’t call it an affair if you know about it. What would you call it then? An open marriage? You have got to be kidding me. Rachel, please just think about it. You’d have your husband back, your family back. Everything would go back to normal. I’d just also have Marcus in my life separately. That’s not normal, Derek. That’s you having a boyfriend while staying married to me? Yes, that’s exactly what it is.

But would that be worse than getting divorced? Worse than the kids going back and forth between two houses? I couldn’t believe we were having this conversation. I need time, I said. I need to think. Take all the time you need. But here’s what I realized over the next few days. I’d already made my decision back when I agreed to the threeperson household.

I’d already decided that keeping my family together, or some version of it, was more important than my pride or my dignity or what I thought marriage was supposed to be. So, what was the difference between having Marcus live with us and having Derrick see him elsewhere? At least if Dererick was seeing him elsewhere, I wouldn’t have to watch.

Wouldn’t have to know the details. Maybe that was pathetic. Maybe I was being a doormat. Maybe I was accepting crumbs when I deserved the whole meal. But I was tired of fighting, tired of being angry, tired of imagining what my life would look like as a divorced single mom. So, I said yes. Marcus moved out right after New Year’s.

He took his furniture and his clothes and disappeared from my daily life. Dererick and I settled into a new routine. He slept in the master bedroom. I kept my separate room. We co-parented the kids, had family dinners, went to school events together, and once a week, sometimes twice, Dererick would say he was going to the gym or meeting friends. And I knew he was with Marcus. I didn’t ask questions, didn’t want details, just pretended those hours didn’t exist.

We were like roommates who happened to be married, who happened to share children, who happened to have this secret arrangement that nobody else knew about. We told everyone Marcus moved out because the threeperson household was too crowded. People accepted this. Nobody suspected anything else. From the outside, Dererick and I looked like a normal married couple going through a rough patch, but trying to make it work. And in a way, I guess we were. Months passed. February, March, April.

Lily’s 8th birthday came. We threw her a party. Marcus came. It was the first time I’d seen him since he moved out. He brought her a beautiful gift, a necklace with her birthstone. She loved it. He and I barely spoke. Just polite small talk. How’s work? How’s your new place? Fine. Fine. Everything’s fine.

Dererick and Marcus didn’t show any affection at the party. They stayed on opposite sides of the yard most of the time, playing their parts. After all the guests left and Marcus was leaving, too, he pulled me aside. I miss you, he said. Don’t, I replied. I know I don’t have the right to miss you.

I know I ruined everything, but it’s true. I miss my best friend. That person doesn’t exist anymore. Rachel, I need to go help clean up. I walked away before he could say anything else. That night, after the kids were in bed, Dererick came to my room. This isn’t working either, is it? He said, I looked at him, really looked at him.

This man I’d loved for 12 years, who I’d built a life with, who I thought I’d grow old with. No, I said it’s not. What do we do? I don’t know. We sat there in silence. Two people who used to be everything to each other, now just sitting in a room trying to figure out how we ended up here.

“Do you hate me?” Dererick asked. Sometimes, I admitted, but mostly I just feel sad. Sad about what we used to be. Sad about what we could have been. I’m sorry for all of it. For not being honest with myself sooner. For bringing you into this mess. Me too, I said. I’m sorry, too.

For what? For not being enough to make you happy. Rachel, you were enough. You are enough. This has nothing to do with you being enough. Then what does it have to do with? It has to do with me figuring out who I am. And I know that’s not your burden to carry. I know you didn’t sign up for this, but I don’t regret loving you. I don’t regret our life together.

Even if it ends up being temporary, it feels like it already ended. I said like we’ve been living in the ghost of our marriage for months. He didn’t disagree. Maybe we should tell the kids, he said, about separating for real. About moving forward with a divorce, maybe. But we didn’t. Not that week.

Not the next week. We just kept existing in this weird limbo. Then in May, something happened that changed everything. I met someone. His name was Nathan. He was a parent at Lily’s school, a single dad with a daughter in her class. We’d been on a few PTA committees together, but never really talked much beyond logistics. Then one evening at a school fundraiser, we ended up sitting next to each other.

Started chatting, really chatting about our kids, about work, about life. He made me laugh, actually laugh. Something I hadn’t done in what felt like forever. At the end of the night, he asked if I wanted to get coffee sometime. I said yes. We got coffee that weekend while the kids were at activities. Talked for 3 hours.

He told me about his divorce two years ago, how hard it was to rebuild his life, how he was still figuring out single parenting. I told him a carefully edited version of my story, that Dererick and I were separated, that we were living together for the kids, but figuring out next steps. That must be really hard, Nathan said.

It is, but you seem like you’re handling it well. I laughed. I’m really not. I’m kind of a mess, aren’t we all? He said, smiling. We got coffee again the next week. And the week after that, I didn’t tell Derek. Didn’t tell anyone except Jennifer, who was thrilled. Finally, she said, “You’re putting yourself first. It’s just coffee. It’s not a big deal. It’s a huge deal. You’re taking a step toward having your own life again, toward finding someone who will choose you first.

I wanted to believe that was possible. Nathan and I kept seeing each other. Coffee turned into lunch. Lunch turned into dinner. Always when the kids were busy, always in this separate world from my real life. One night in June after dinner at this Italian place, Nathan walked me to my car.

I really like you, Rachel. He said, “I like you, too. Can I kiss you?” I hadn’t kissed anyone except Derrick in over a decade. Hadn’t even thought about kissing someone else, but I said yes. And when Nathan kissed me, it felt like coming up for air after being underwater for too long.

We stood there in the parking lot kissing like teenagers until we both started laughing at how ridiculous we probably looked. I should go, I said. When can I see you again? Soon. I drove home feeling lighter than I had in months, maybe years. Dererick was in the kitchen when I got home making tea. You’re home late, he said. I had dinner with a friend.

Which friend? Jennifer, I lied. He looked at me for a long moment. You seemed different. Different how? I don’t know. Happier. I didn’t know what to say to that. Over the next few weeks, Nathan and I kept seeing each other. It was getting harder to hide, harder to keep making excuses for where I was.

Jennifer told me I needed to just tell Derrick that I had every right to date other people, that we were essentially separated anyway. She was right, but I was scared. Scared of the confrontation. Scared of what it would mean. Finally, in early July, Dererick found out.

One of his co-workers saw me with Nathan at a restaurant. Mentioned it casually. Asked if that was my brother or something. Dererick came home that night and came straight to my room. Who is he? He asked. My heart sank. Who is who? The guy you’ve been seeing. Michael from work saw you two together. So, don’t lie to me. His name is Nathan.

He’s a parent from Lily’s school. How long? Since May. Just coffee and dinner. Nothing serious. Are you sleeping with him? No, we’ve just been talking getting to know each other. Dererick sat down on my bed. He looked devastated. You’re leaving me? He said, Derek, you left me a year and a half ago when you started seeing Marcus.

I’ve just been trying to hold on to something that was already gone. But I thought we were trying to make this work. We were. We are. But what does making it work even mean? You have Marcus. Why shouldn’t I have someone, too? That’s different. How is it different? Because you’re my wife. I laughed. Actually laughed.

I’m your wife on paper. But Derek, I haven’t felt like your wife in a long time. You made a choice. Now I’m making one, too. Do you love him? I barely know him. But I like him. And he makes me feel like maybe I’m worth something. Like maybe I’m not just someone who gets left behind while the people I love choose each other.

Dererick started crying. I never wanted to lose you. You already lost me. We sat there for a while. Both of us finally understanding that this was really the end. We should tell the kids. I said for real this time we should separate properly. Get the divorce. Figure out a real custody arrangement.

What about Nathan? Is he going to be around them? Not yet. Maybe never. I don’t know. But Derek, you don’t get to decide that. You lost that right when you decided Marcus was more important. He nodded. He knew I was right. We told Lily and Mason the next day. Sat them down together in the living room.

We have something to tell you guys. Dererick started. They both looked worried immediately. Kids can sense when something’s wrong. Daddy and I are getting divorced. I said gently. We’re going to live in separate houses. You’ll spend time with both of us, just in different places. Lily’s eyes filled with tears.

But I don’t want you to get divorced. I know, sweetie. We don’t want this either, but sometimes grown-ups realize they’re better as friends than as married people. Is it because of Uncle Marcus? Mason asked. Dererick and I looked at each other in shock. What do you mean, buddy? Dererick asked.

I heard you and mommy fighting about Uncle Marcus. A long time ago before he moved in with us, I heard mommy say his name, and you were both crying. Kids hear everything. Of course, he’d heard something. Uncle Marcus and I are really good friends, Dererick said carefully. And sometimes that was confusing for mommy and me. But this isn’t about him.

This is about your mom and me realizing we want different things in life. It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was enough truth for an 8-year-old and a six-year-old. They asked questions. We answered them as honestly as we could. Told them they’d have two homes but would always have both their parents. That we love them more than anything. That none of this was their fault. By the end of the conversation, they weren’t happy, but they understood.

Dererick moved out 2 weeks later, found a nice apartment nearby. We set up a week-on-week off schedule for the kids. The house felt empty without him. But it also felt like mine again. Jennifer helped me pack up all of Derrick’s remaining things. All the photos of us that were still on walls and shelves.

How are you feeling? She asked. I don’t know. Sad, relieved, scared, everything. That’s normal, is it? I feel like I should be more upset, like I should be devastated, but mostly I just feel free. That’s okay, too. Nathan and I kept seeing each other slowly, carefully. He met the kids in August at a park play date with his daughter. They got along well. Lily especially liked him.

I didn’t introduce him as my boyfriend, just as a friend. But Lily smart. She figured it out eventually. Do you love Nathan? She asked me one night at bedtime. I don’t know yet, but I like him a lot. More than you love daddy? I love daddy very much, but sometimes love isn’t enough. Sometimes people need different things.

Does daddy love Uncle Marcus more than he loved you? I wasn’t expecting that question. I thought for a minute about how to answer. I think daddy loves Uncle Marcus in a different way than he loved me. Not more or less, just different. Oh, she said then. I think Uncle Marcus was sad when he moved out.

Why do you think that? Because he looked at you like he was sad. At my birthday party, my sweet observant daughter, missing nothing. The divorce was final in October. Almost two full years after that first night when everything fell apart. Dererick and I split everything as fairly as possible. He kept his car. I kept mine. We sold the big house we’d gotten for the three-person arrangement. Split the proceeds. He got his own place. I got my own place.

Different neighborhoods, but still close enough for the kids. Marcus came to the final mediation meeting. I’d asked him to. There were some things I needed to say. We met at a coffee shop, just the two of us. Thank you for coming, I said. Of course. What did you want to talk about? I wanted to tell you that I forgive you. He looked shocked.

What? I forgive you. Both of you for all of it. The lying, the affair, the impossible situation you put me in. I forgive it, Rachel. I don’t understand. I spent two years being angry, being hurt, feeling betrayed. And I had every right to feel those things. But I’m tired of carrying it around.

I’m tired of letting what you did define my whole life. So, I’m choosing to forgive you. Not because you deserve it, but because I deserve peace. Marcus started crying. I don’t know what to say. You don’t have to say anything. I’m not asking for an apology or explanation.

I just wanted you to know I miss being your friend, he said. Is that something we could ever have again? Maybe not now, but maybe someday. I need more time. I understand. Are you happy? I asked. With Derek, he nodded. Yeah, I am. I wish it hadn’t happened this way. I wish I hadn’t hurt you, but yes, I’m happy. Good. I’m glad. I really am, and I meant it.

Somewhere along the way, I’d stopped wishing they’d be miserable. Stopped hoping karma would punish them. I just wanted everyone to be okay, including me. Are you happy? He asked. With Nathan getting there, I said, taking it slow. But yeah, I think I could be. We sat there for a while longer.

Two people who used to be best friends, finding our way to something new, something neither of us could quite name yet. When I got home that night, Nathan was waiting on my front porch. I’d given him a key a few weeks earlier. Hi, he said standing up when he saw me. I hope it’s okay I came by. I know you said you were meeting Marcus and might need space after.

It’s more than okay, I said. He hugged me. Just held me there on my front porch while the sun set. How did it go? He asked. Better than expected. I told him I forgave him. That must have been hard. It was. But it also felt right, like I was releasing something I’d been holding on to for too long.

We went inside, made dinner together, talked about our days. This was my life now. Smaller than it had been, different than I’d planned, but mine. The kids adapted better than I expected. They liked having two homes, two sets of toys, two different routines. Derrick was a good dad when it was his week.

Present and attentive in a way he hadn’t always been during our marriage. He and Marcus were living together now. had been since right after the divorce was final. The kids visited them sometimes during Dererick’s weeks. They still loved Uncle Marcus, still treated him like family. I made peace with that with them having a relationship with him. It wasn’t their fault what happened between us adults. Nathan met Dererick eventually at a school event we all attended.

They were cordial, polite, two men with nothing in common except caring about the same woman. Dererick pulled me aside at one point. He seems nice. He said he is. Are you in love with him? I thought about that question about what love even meant anymore after everything I’d been through. I think I might be, I said.

But I’m being careful, taking my time. I’m not rushing into anything. That’s smart, Dererick said. Then I’m happy for you, Rachel. I know that sounds hollow coming from me, but it’s true. You deserve to be happy. So do you. And that was the truth.

Despite everything, despite all the pain and betrayal and complications, I wanted Dererick to be happy. I wanted Marcus to be happy. I wanted my kids to be happy. And for the first time in 2 years, I wanted me to be happy, too. Not someday. Not eventually, but now. That night, after the kids were asleep at Dererick’s place for his week, Nathan and I sat on my couch watching a movie.

Can I ask you something? He said, “Sure. Do you think you’ll ever trust someone completely again?” After what happened? I thought about it. I don’t know. Maybe not the way I trusted Derek before, but I think I can trust differently. Trust while also keeping a part of myself separate.

Trust while knowing that people can still surprise you. Does that make sense? Perfect sense. What about you after your divorce? Same. I think my ex broke something in me, but maybe broken things can be put back together. They’ll never be exactly the same, but they can still be whole. We kissed then, slowly, sweetly.

And I felt something I hadn’t felt in a very long time. Hope, not hope that everything would be perfect. Not hope that I’d found my soulmate or my forever person or any of those fairy tale concepts. Just hope that tomorrow would be a little better than today. That I was building something new on the ruins of what I’d lost. That my story wasn’t over.

It was just a different story than the one I’d planned. And maybe possibly it could still have a happy ending.