Last spring, after eight years of a stable partnership, my husband and I opened our marriage. In truth, I was the one to push for this change in the first place. For many, this disclosure would have been an absolute curveball. But fortunately Sam and I had been fleshing out the parameters of ethical nonmonogamy for some time, theoretically musing about the drawbacks of long-term partnership since our third date.
Years later, when we did begin concretely discussing what an open marriage would look like, we were curious about how exactly to transition from theory to practice. This was perhaps a tall order, but I was in no rush. The beauty of our new arrangement, in my eyes, was that we had the freedom to be open to these natural, desire-based encounters. When I got to campus, I noticed that my friends were sitting next to a friendly-looking guy who was laughing and loudly teasing them.
He was handsome and tall and also smart and funny. He was tall and brunet and cute β with a capital C. That night, we barely spoke beyond the innocuous exchanges required to order a cocktail, but there was a palpable energy between us.
Some may call it a vibe. I went home with my husband that night happily. Although apprehensive at first, Sam was overwhelmingly supportive.
After all, beyond a few smiles and winks, nothing untoward had occurred. But my flirtation with the bartender was an opening β a beginning. A week later, after a negroni or two at the Capri Club, I found the courage to return to Figueroa Street.
