“Maybe,” I admit.
“You go for it. I’m an open book.”
“Um, well, how does this all work for you?” I ask, trying to sound as chill as possible.
Pete starts, calm but upbeat. “Basically, we decided a few years back that love isn’t this finite resource, you know? You don’t stopcaring about one person just because you care about another. So, we opened things up. Carefully. Intentionally. And just decided to see where it would take us.”
“And what’s he like?” I have to ask.
“Well,” he explains, chipper but not flippant. “We’ve been married three years, together for nearly six. He’s brilliant—better cook than me, better taste in music, absolutely useless at parallel parking.”
“Right,” I say carefully. “And he’s… okay with you being here?”
“Oh yeah,” Pete says brightly. “We’re open about everything, without going into the lurid details. But we will talk openly about who we’re seeing and how we feel.”
“But it’s not just about sex?”
“No, we’re polyamorous. Open, but more about actually making space for other connections. It’s not about replacing what we have, more like… expanding the cast list.”
He says it so cheerfully I almost forget to panic. Almost.
“So, James is also seeing people?”
“He has a boyfriend,” Pete says with the same tone you’d use to say “he has a dog.” “Sam. They’ve been together about two years. Lovely guy. Bit obsessed with Lady Gaga, but you can’t have everything.”
I raise an eyebrow. “So, you’ve got a husband and he’s got a boyfriend. Very modern. I feel like I need a flowchart.”
Pete chuckles. “It’s not as complicated as it sounds.”
“Speak for yourself. I once got confused by the relationships onLove Island.”
We laugh, but I’m watching him closely now. His expression softens when he talks about James, but when Sam’s name comes up? Nothing. Flat. Indifferent. He describes him like someone describing a colleague’s desk plant.
“And how do you feel about Sam?” I ask carefully.
Pete hesitates. “He makes James happy. That’s what matters.”
Which is technically an answer, but it feels a little hollow. I file it underred flags to obsess over at 2am.
I take a gulp of beer to buy time. “And this works? I mean… no jealousy? No chaos?”
“Oh, plenty of chaos,” Pete says cheerfully. “But also, plenty of honesty. That’s the trade-off. It’s like…trying to build Ikea furniture without instructions. That’s monogamy — you just wing it because it’s what everyone else does. Polyamory? That’s the version where you actually sit down, read the manual, and have seventeen conversations about where the Allen key is.”
I choke on my chips. “That is the gayest analogy I’ve ever heard.”
“You’re welcome.”
He leans closer, eyes warm. “Seriously though — it’s not about being greedy. It’s about being honest about who we are and what we need. There are things that James gets from Sam that he doesn’t get from me and vice versa. We’re just upfront about that, about what we want.”
I’m, of course, desperate to know what these “things” are, but just nod like we’re casually discussing the weather.
“For us, that’s about connection with more than one person. Doesn’t mean James and I aren’t committed. He’s my anchor, my person. But we don’t want to lock each other in a box either.”
I nod, trying to absorb it all. My inner voice is screaming:I struggle to manage one man, let alone a polycule.
Pete must sense the heaviness, because he grins. “Okay, new topic. Tell me about your dad. You mentioned he passed away last time.”
It knocks me sideways. I wasn’t expecting that.
