There I was, sitting across from Dave at the fancy restaurant he had chosen for our tenth anniversary. Candlelight, soft music, expensive appetizers—it should have felt romantic. Instead, I sensed trouble the moment he said, “Felicity, I’ve been thinking.”
Dave’s “thinking” usually meant chaos. This time, his big idea was that we should open our marriage. He claimed he wanted to date “real women” so I could concentrate on the kids without worrying about him. I was stunned, especially by the way he described it as a favor to me.
I could have exploded, but instead, inspiration struck. I smiled and told him I agreed—as long as I could date other people too. Dave hesitated briefly before confidently accepting. He had no idea how quickly his brilliant plan would backfire.
A week later, Dave was miserable on dating apps. Every evening brought another rejection or awkward conversation. Meanwhile, I mentioned our arrangement to my handsome coworker, Shawn. He was surprised Dave had suggested it, then jokingly admitted he would happily take me out.
Our coffee date went wonderfully, so I invited Shawn to dinner. I dressed up and, feeling unusually confident, texted Dave before Shawn arrived: “Don’t come home tonight. My date might go to the next level.” I expected him to respect the arrangement.
