After 16 years, my partner and I weren’t expecting any major surprises. Despite a few hiccups, we managed our open relationship well. We’d both had lovers, but always tried to put each other’s needs first. We were a couple, but also independent.
What happened next surprised us both: we fell in love with the same beautiful young man. He lived abroad, so it was a relationship of shared holidays, WhatsApp groups and lots of Skype. One day, we’d joke, we’ll all live together as a “thrupple”. That day came with a phone call: “I’m moving to the UK.” Could this really work?
We never looked back. Despite my fears, this was no threat to our long-term relationship; it was an enhancement. In fact, there were four relationships: he and my partner; he and I; my partner and I, and the three of us: all uniquely and independently gratifying.
Four years later, he left the UK and we had to make adjustments, but after a year it became unsustainable, especially for him.
Eighteen months later, he told us he’d started seeing someone new. It was clear that our chapter together was well and truly over. My other partner and I supported each other: for me, the finality of this change was quite devastating.
Our six years as a thrupple had changed everything. We hadn’t been two plus one: we’d been three. Now we’re two again: but not the same two that we were. We find ourselves in the unusual position of being a couple again, trying to make sense of the space left behind.
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