I’ve been bi-curious for a long time but have never shared this part of myself with anyone. I'm married, and this story takes place during a recent Halloween gathering.

We (my wife, our child, and I) were spending the weekend at a cottage with friends for a Halloween party. Among the group were a former couple, one of whom brought his current boyfriend. He was new to the group, and I’d only met him once before. He had recently come out as gay after ending a long-term relationship with a girlfriend he almost married. The rest of the group were long-time friends, and while we often meet up, I’d never talked about my bi-curiosity with them.

Unexpectedly, my wife’s friend joined us with her family, including her husband, whom I'll refer to as Tom, and their child. I spent most of the evening talking and drinking shots with Tom. For context, we’d met a few times before since our kids are classmates, and we also work at the same company.

As the night went on and it got late, we decided to walk Tom’s family back to their rental place, which was about a 10-minute walk away. Out of nowhere, Tom and I found ourselves holding hands, playfully and seemingly as a joke since we were both quite drunk. After leaving his family at their place, I convinced Tom to come back to the party, and on the way back, we held hands again.

When we returned to the cottage, we continued drinking and talking. At one point, one of my gay friends approached me and mentioned that he thought Tom might be gay, pointing out subtle behaviors he’d noticed. Initially, I laughed it off but found myself noticing things too. Later, a smaller group of us, including the new boyfriend, gathered on the terrace. He began teasing Tom and me, saying he could see something between us, commenting on our body language and the way we looked at each other. He even said, “You both look like you want to kiss. Don’t let being married hold you back—just be yourselves.”

Tom, who rarely smokes, asked for a cigarette and took a few puffs. Suddenly, he looked lightheaded and reached for my hands for support. We ended up standing there, holding hands, while the others looked on, almost as if confirming their suspicions. Tom took a few deep breaths, and we decided to leave the cottage together.

As we walked down the path, Tom asked, “So, they think we’re gay?” I replied, “Mmm, yes, kind of.” That was the end of that conversation. We walked back to his place, holding hands again. I can’t remember who initiated it, but I was guiding him as he was drunk, had smoked, and it was dark. Secretly, I wondered if anything more might happen, but our conversation stayed light, mostly about work and other random topics.

When we reached his place, neither of us seemed ready to say goodbye, so Tom insisted on walking me back to the cottage. It felt like a repeat—holding hands, quiet moments, and small talk. What should have been a short 10-minute walk stretched into nearly two hours, but in the end, nothing happened.

When I finally returned, everyone was asleep. I messaged Tom to check if he was okay and then went to bed. The next morning, he replied with a selfie of his hangover. We exchanged a few messages, and I asked what he remembered. He called, and we talked briefly. I brought up the conversation on the terrace, and he said he vaguely remembered but didn’t say much else. We saw each other over the next couple of days, talked as usual, and kept things light without drinking as much.

One last detail: the morning after Halloween, the new boyfriend mentioned that my wife had asked him about my behavior that night. He told her he thought I was interested in men. I don’t know the full details of that conversation, but that’s a story for another day.

Looking back, the entire night feels surreal, and now I’m left wondering what to think about it—about Tom and me.