we drive to berkley so you can buy molly from my friends friend and of all the things i was expecting from this weekend, sitting in the same space as both of you at the same time was not it.
unwitting cuckold; california standard.
everyone's sleeping with everyone and only half the people know it.
that july afternoon, no wives in sight.
only me. and you, and him, and his friend with the molly and the power tools and the patio we sipped beers on all afternoon and the dog who really was so sweet.
when it's time to go, he squeezes me extra tight and tells me to have fun as he sends me off with you. we head back south across the bay bridge, drugs in your pocket, doordash open in my palm. i reach across the car and touch your neck as you drive and i'll always wonder if that was the moment that was too much.
a month later i'm back in the bay and you're nowhere to be found and i end up at a dinner party with him and his friend with the molly and both of their wives are around this time and both of their wives invite me into their beds that night. but i sleep on the sofa, just like you did. after we ate shitty mediterranean food and had bad sex and you said it wasn't me, you just couldn't sleep next to someone. and so you let me sleep in your bed while you slept on the couch and i felt really fucking weird about it but everything about that summer felt really fucking weird so maybe this was just what people do. maybe some people sleep on the couch after having sex and maybe some people sleep on the couch instead of having sex and maybe some people spend their weekends fucking each other husbands and maybe i can only fuck your husband when you aren't around and here i am in the middle of all of it so maybe i am some people too.
and maybe i'm not cut out for california or maybe i'd been living in my head too long or maybe nothing could have felt normal that year even if it had been. and even though you faded with time, the doors you helped open stayed flung wide for years. and even though it had nothing to do with you or him or the friend with the molly or either of their wives, the crossroads had finally come. and even though you slept on the couch and were kind of an asshole, i'm so grateful to you.
and he still loves me in a way that is truly so rare. and his wife still texts me asking me to come play. and that, i think, is the difference. because, yes, both of us slept on the couch.
but they still welcomed me in.
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