Every time I tell this story, I change it a little. There are a few reasons why. One, stories change as you tell them. The more time you have to mull over an event, the easier it is to remember and interpret it differently. Two, stories change depending on who you're talking to. And how you want them to see you. So, when I tell my ex-partner that X's husband Y asked me for a threesome, I tell him that no, nothing happened. And that's one version of this tale. But when I tell a girlfriend the threesome story over dinner in a busy restaurant, I do it like I do stand-up for a living. I make her cry with exaggerated dirty details until we're screaming with laughter into our duck curry and eavesdroppers listen in. Both versions are true. Both are false by way of omission.
Here's the real story. All of it. (Well, most of it if I'm being honest.)
It was a perfect night on the coast. X and Y had invited me and my two children over to their bach for dinner. We turned up to a lavish spread. Y had roasted two butterflied chickens to golden perfection. He served up sides of fresh salad with avocado and the crunchiest roast potatoes. The wine flowed. After dinner, the kids went to the sleep-out to watch movies. We continued to sit and talk at the large, wooden dining table in the backyard under the moon, the stars, and the apricot tree. The wine was delicious. The conversation? Intoxicating. We spoke about everything from my new job, literature, and music, to my latest Tinder experiences. I told them about this musician I had recently been out with and how it went terribly wrong on the first date when said to me, "You're so confident in yourself; in your body." This could be interpreted as a compliment if he hadn't said it with such incredulity. We laughed at his stupidity, his gall.
As the night went on, we talked about my recent separation, sex and love, and how X and Y first met. They told me things they don't normally share with other people. Personal things about their love life. I didn't think this was weird. Where I come from, we talk openly about sex, religion, and politics, often with raised voices and flailing arms. If anything, I felt lucky to be seen as a confidant. To be privy to such beautiful intimacies is a rare thing. I savoured every word. Then it got late. I invited X and Y over to my rental bach the next day. I wanted to keep these heady conversations going and return their hospitality. That night, alone in a strange bed, in the light of the full moon, I looked at a website X and Y had mentioned. It was so interesting to see a menu of women presented in such a way. I sent X a message telling her that I had looked it up. I said I was impressed, but that I could do a better job with the web copy. Then I fell asleep, my phone warm in my hand.
The next day, X, Y and their kids showed up at 5pm. We started drinking and eating. It was hot and the kids were feral, so we sent them out to explore the woods nearby. X disappeared to get changed into her togs so she could use the hot tub. This is when Y brought up the fact that I had looked at the escort site. He asked me if I had ever been with a woman before. I never have and I told him so. While this banter wove well with the previous night's thread, I didn't feel drunk enough to be having this conversation. I didn't see any of this coming.
