To give some context, my wife, Evie (28F - Bi), and I have been married for almost four years and together for seven. We met on Bumble in 2017. She’s the kind of person who lights up a room - funny, sharp, and effortlessly cool. I (Alex, 31M - Bi) fell hard for her when we met. One of the things I’ve always admired about Evie is her honesty. Early in our relationship, she told me she was bisexual. I was the first person she confided in, and I helped her through the coming-out process, even sitting beside her when she told her parents. Thankfully, they took it well, and since then, Evie’s been living her truth.

Her openness never bothered me; if anything, it strengthened our bond. We became each other’s safe space, our relationship built on mutual trust and vulnerability. Evie was my best friend.

Over the years, we’d joke about her attraction to women. Sometimes we’d sit in coffee shops, people-watching, and whispering when a cute woman walked by. We even fantasized about a threesome in a light-hearted way, but it was always just that, a fantasy. Our marriage felt solid. Sure, we had the usual ups and downs, but nothing that ever shook my confidence in our relationship.

Then, in mid-2023, Keira (29F - looks quite masc, queer) entered the picture.

Keira started working with Evie at her office. At first, she seemed like a typical new co-worker, friendly, confident, and eager to fit in. But it didn’t take long for her to become a fixture in Evie’s life. They started spending more time together, hanging out after work, texting constantly, and meeting for drinks. I didn’t think much of it at first. I trusted Evie completely, and honestly, I was happy she was building a social life again after we moved in 2022. Her social circle had shrunk, and I knew it had been tough for her.

It wasn’t until Keira came over to our apartment one evening in October 2023 that I noticed the shift.

That night, we were all having drinks. This was my first time properly meeting Keira, as most of what I knew about her came from Evie’s stories. The conversation flowed easily, but as the alcohol loosened us up, the vibe started to change. The topic of threesomes came up, and feeling bold (and stupid), I casually mentioned that Evie was bi and joked that we’d be open to it with the right person. Keira’s eyes lit up. She leaned in, asking Evie playful, pointed questions about her experiences and preferences.

A few days later, I got a text from Keira asking if I’d been serious about the threesome. My judgment took a backseat to my hormones, and I said yes. She told me she felt nervous about being with a man for the first time and wanted to get comfortable with Evie first. That sounded reasonable, so I agreed, thinking it would all come together eventually. Big mistake.

The first red flag hit me like a truck when I came home one evening to find Evie and Keira on our couch, both completely naked. I was blindsided. They insisted this was part of Keira’s “process,” and Evie accused me of rushing things when I expressed my discomfort.

To keep the peace, I reluctantly agreed to stay out of the way whenever Keira came over. But her visits became constant. She’d show up unannounced, and I began to feel like a third wheel in my own home. Anytime I brought up the supposed threesome, Evie would snap, accusing me of being impatient.

The breaking point came when Evie told me to leave the apartment one evening in the Spring of 2024 because Keira was coming over, and they had “plans.” I refused. Evie accused me of being controlling and said I was invading her personal space. She even threatened to leave if I didn’t go.

After that fight:

I tried to talk things out with Evie, but she was defensive, almost like she couldn’t see things from my perspective anymore. She kept insisting that I didn’t understand how lonely she felt when I was away for work. Being in the film industry, I travel a lot for shoots (across the UK in hotels or, sometimes, if I’m lucky, getting a gig abroad), sometimes for weeks or months at a time, and I know that can take a toll on any relationship.

That night, Evie broke down in front of me. She started crying uncontrollably, her tears falling so fast I didn’t know how to comfort her at first, and her voice trembled as she spoke, barely able to hold it together. She said something like “I’m not blaming you, Alex,” while she was wiping her eyes. She always supported my dreams like I did for her, but she’d never opened up about her worries until now. It's a tricky industry not just a normal 9-5 job.

Evie explained how when I was gone, she felt a deep, aching loneliness. Yes, she had a job, and we had pets, but things weren’t the same. We’d moved in 2022, and her social life hadn’t picked up. She mentioned how we were trying to have a child, but it wasn’t going the way we hoped, and it left her feeling isolated. Then she explained - Keira’s been there for her in a way she didn’t realize she needed. Then saying she's so sorry she's been spending so much time with her. It’s just, that Keira makes her feel like she's not alone.

She apologized for how that had affected us, how the time with Keira had come between us, but also for not communicating her loneliness before. She said Keira had helped her with her mental health and made her feel seen in a way she didn’t expect. It was a soft spot in my heart hearing her say it, even though it stung. Evie continued with something like, “I know it’s been too much, but I don’t want to lose you. I still love you. I want us to be okay and I will cut her out of my life to make you happy".

After a long silence, I pulled her into a tight hug, holding her until her sobs subsided. I never meant to make her feel isolated. But I realized that if I truly loved Evie, I had to respect her space and her feelings, even if they involved Keira. It wasn’t what I envisioned for us, but I had to give her the room to figure things out.

It was an uneasy peace. But we agreed to try, to see where things went, and to keep the lines of communication open. I didn’t know where this was leading, but I promised myself that I would give her the time she needed to explore her feelings for Keira and me.

Cut to Summer 2024:

At first, it was small things. Keira would come over after work, casually join us for dinner, and hang out for hours. Sometimes, she’d bring wine, and the two of them would sit out in the garden, laughing and talking late into the night while I worked on emails or prepared for my next gig. On more than one occasion, I’d walk into the kitchen to find her cooking us breakfast. Keira put an effort into getting to know me and even offered to pay some expenses as she’d been here a lot.

I’d return from trips, exhausted from work, and Evie would often be out with Keira. I’d come home to an empty apartment or find them curled up together on the couch watching a film. But her stays became more frequent. I found Keira’s clothes mixed in with Evie’s in the laundry, her toothbrush in the bathroom, and even her favourite tea in our pantry.

October 2024:

Then one evening, Evie sat me down, her tone gentle but her words deliberate. She explained that Keira’s lease was ending soon and that she had nowhere else to go. The idea of Keira moving in felt like crossing a line that couldn’t be uncrossed, but Evie’s face was a mix of guilt and hope, her vulnerability tugging at my resolve. I'm such an idiot but Keira hasn't been horrible these past months ugh. She framed it as temporary. Evie reassured me it wouldn’t change anything between us, that our marriage would always come first.

October 2024 to January 2025:

Once Keira officially moved in, her bond with Evie seemed to deepen even further. On nights when I travelled, Keira didn’t just stay in the spare room. I knew, without having to ask, that she and Evie were sharing our bed.

By December, Keira had become fully entrenched in our lives. It was no surprise when Evie asked if she could spend Christmas with us, framing it as a kind gesture since Keira didn’t have family nearby. I agreed, wanting to keep the peace and make the holidays special for Evie. She seemed happier than I’d seen her in months.

Despite everything, Evie and I still had our moments. We went on dates, shared quiet evenings together, and kept trying to rekindle the connection that felt increasingly fragile. Then, in mid-December, we got news that should’ve been the happiest moment of our lives: Evie was finally pregnant. After months of trying, it felt like a miracle, a chance to start fresh and rebuild what we’d lost.

For a while, it felt like we were finding our way back to each other, that maybe this new chapter could heal the fractures in our marriage. But Keira’s presence was always there, an unspoken tension that neither of us could fully ignore.

That evening, after dinner, Evie asked to talk. She seemed nervous, her hands trembling slightly as she took a seat beside me. Keira sat next to her, silent but resolute, her presence adding an undeniable weight to the moment. Evie finally admitted what I had long suspected: in Evie’s words, her girlfriend. My heart sank, but a part of me wasn’t surprised. The part that hurt the most was when Evie admitted that she had fallen in love with Keira.

She broke down completely, sobbing as she begged me to understand. I held her as she cried, whispering that I just wanted her to be happy, even though my own heart was breaking. I told myself I could find a way to make it work, for her, for our baby.

In a strange turn of events, Evie suggested that we try to make this work, for the sake of our relationship and the baby on the way. She was willing to go slowly, to make sure I felt comfortable and heard in all of this. She even suggested that maybe we could revisit the idea of a threesome, but this time, it wouldn’t just be about the fantasy, it would be about exploring something real together.

I’m not sure where this is going. But I love Evie, and I want her to be happy. I want our marriage to survive, even if it means confronting things I never thought I would. It’s a huge shift in everything I thought I knew about love, trust, and boundaries. For now, I’m trying to take it one day at a time, even as I wrestle with my emotions and the uncertainty of what comes next.