When my husband, Orson, demanded an open marriage or divorce, I agreed out of love. Six months later, I started dating his best friend, Ben, who later confessed he’d loved me for years, hidden to preserve his friendship with Orson. Orson raged, claiming the open marriage wasn’t meant to be emotional, but I reminded him it was his idea. He left, and I comforted Ben. Orson later admitted he suggested the open marriage to ease his guilt
over prior affairs, fearing I was bored. Torn between Ben’s tenderness and my history with Orson, I attended therapy with Orson, where he revealed his infidelity predated our agreement. At a cabin getaway, a message from another woman shattered our fragile reconciliation. I left, stayed with Orson’s sister, and moved in with Ben after he offered his apartment key. Orson entered rehab for sex addiction, and I forgave but didn’t return. A year later, with Ben, I found honest love, learning lies destroy relationships, but truth opens new beginnings.
