Page 79 of The All-Inclusive

I spare no detail on what we’ve been doing with Logan, how naturally the three of us fit together. Camille nods along, asking intelligent questions and probing gently for details when I try to gloss over my feelings.

“I’m so proud of you, honey.” She squeezes my hand with a smile. “It takes an incredible amount of courage to break free from societal norms and what your family of origin taught you to believe. I just want to say that before giving you anything else to think about.”

“Thank you.” I’m proud of myself, to be honest. “I neverimagined this is where the Jilted Brides Honeymoon Club journey would take me.”

She searches my eyes with her hand still on mine. “You still love Trent, I’m assuming?”

“Yeah.” Warm honey fills up my chest as I say it. “Is it weird if I say I love him even more now? That exploring this new stuff together has brought us even closer.”

“That’s not weird at all. It makes perfect sense and just proves you’re a highly emotionally evolved human.”

My ego sits up and preens, even as I prepare to say what I’m pretty sure sounds even weirder. “Okay, but here’s something else.” There’s no way she’ll think this is normal. “I love Logan, too.” I squeeze my eyes shut, afraid to see judgment in her face. “I know it’s wrong and you’ll probably say it’s just hormones talking. That I’ve known him less than a week and I’m just inexperienced and it’s bad to confuse lust and love, but Camille?—”

“Hey.” She squeezes my hand and I open my eyes. “Look at me when I say this, Sara.”

“Okay.” I’m starting to tremble and I’m tempted to pull back my hand, but I order myself to stay calm. “What?”

“You need to let go of this notion ofwrongandbad. That’s your upbringing talking again.”

Easy for her to say. “I’m not sure I can let go of it.”

“Try.” Her eyes are so kind that I almost forget the filmstrip I’ve played in my mind all week. The one where I go home and tell my parents that I’m wildly in love with two men.

“You’ve come so far,” Camille continues. “I’m so proud of how you’ve been able to identify what you want and go after it like the badass, sexually empowered woman you are.”

“That’s true.” Maybe thisisthe next step.

“You’re consenting adults,” she continues. “You and Trent and Logan live in a free country where you’re allowed to do whatever you want behind closed doors, as long as it doesn’t harm anyoneelse.” Her smile turns a little salacious. “For that matter, there’s plenty you can do without the door closed.”

“But that’shere,” I say weakly. “This isn’t the real world.”

Some deep, secret part of me hopes that she’ll argue. That she’ll tell me I’m wrong and there’s a solution I just haven’t found yet.

My friend doesn’t disappoint. “Do you want me to call up the throuple I counsel and tell them the chore list they fight about isn’treal? That the children they raise together aren’treal? That the human emotions they deal with like anyone else in committed relationships—those aren’treal?”

“Throuple?” I know that’s not what she intended for me to take from her beautiful monologue, but it’s a word I don’t know. “I—don’t have my notebook.”

She smiles and squeezes my hand again. “Committed, romantic partnerships between three people can be categorized under the heading of polyamory, which is a type of relationship where members of the romantic union have multiple, intimate connections with the consent of everyone involved.”

Thatwas a mouthful. “I feel like I need to take notes here.” But I don’t have a pen, plus I’d rather just listen. “You really counsel a throuple?”

“Several of them, actually. Honey, do you have any idea how many polyamorous relationships there are in the United States alone?”

“Um, well—since I just learned the wordsthroupleandpolyamorous, I’m gonna say no.”

My friend gives me a patient smile. “Estimates range from 1.2 million to 2.4 million, but if you expand that definition to include relationships that allow satellite lovers—a partner with physical and emotional distance from the central nest—the estimate shoots up to 9.8 million.”

“You’re kidding.” This isn’t the first time my sex therapist palhas blown my mind, but it’s the first time it’s really hit home. “You mean it’s athing?”

“Athingthat’s growing by leaps and bounds as more and more people recognize that traditional, heteronormative, monogamous partnerships aren’t for everyone. There are plenty of studies showing monogamy isn’t evennormalin a biological sense—and I’m cringing here that I just used that word, but I need you to hear what I’m saying, Sar.”

“I do.” There’s that goddamn wedding phrase again. It’s getting to be a bad habit. “So like, this throuple you counsel…” I don’t know why I’m so hung up on them, except that knowing they exist makes this whole thing feel human and real. “Are they married or what?”

“Sadly,” she says, “throuple marriage isn’t legal in the U.S. Don’t get me started on that one. But for people who want to be married, they find ways to work around it. Maybe two members marry each other on paper while seeking legal protections for all of them. My sister, Cecelia, handles cases like that all the time.”

“Cecelia?” I’m not sure which sister she is.

“The attorney. And I’m no expert on the law, so please don’t take anything I’m telling you as legal advice.”

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