My name is Marcus, I’m twenty-eight, and I’m still processing what happened last week. I’ve been with Jenna, twenty-six, for three years, engaged for six months. The wedding was planned for next spring. Or, it was.
Last Tuesday, we were having dinner at home. She’d been weird for days—distant, checking her phone constantly. Then she dropped it.
“Marcus, I need to tell you something.”
I put down my fork. That tone never leads anywhere good. “Trevor reached out last week.”
Her ex. The musician wannabe who treated her like garbage for two years before she finally left him. “We’ve been talking.”
My stomach dropped. “Talking?”
“Just catching up. But,” she took a deep breath, “I realized I never got proper closure with him. It ended so abruptly, and there are still… unresolved feelings.”
“Unresolved feelings?” I was echoing her like an idiot, but my brain was trying to catch up.
“Not love!” She grabbed my hand. “I love you. I want to marry you. But I need to close that chapter properly before we start our life together.”
“And how, exactly, do you ‘close’ this chapter?”
She pulled her hand back, looking at her plate. “I need to see him. One more time. Spend time with him. Talk through everything.”
“Spend time?”
“One night. Just to… to get it out of my system. To know for sure that you’re the one I choose.”
The silence stretched. Finally, I said it. “You’re asking for permission to sleep with your ex.”
“It’s not like that! It’s about closure! Understanding why it didn’t work, confirming that what we have is real.”
“By sleeping with him.”
“You’re making it sound so crude. It’s emotional closure. The physical part is just… part of that process.”
I stared at her. Three years. A ring on her finger. Wedding venue booked. And she’s sitting here, dead serious, asking to go bang her ex for closure.
“You know what, Jenna?” I said, a strange calm settling over me. “Take all the closure you need.”
Her face lit up. “Really? You understand?”
“Absolutely. Go right ahead.”
She launched herself at me, covering my face with kisses. “You’re amazing! So mature! This is why I love you! It’s just one night, and then we’ll be stronger than ever!”
“When were you planning this… ‘closure session’?”
“Saturday. He has a show Friday night, so it’s perfect.”
“Perfect. Text me the address.”
She blinked. “Why?”
“Just want to know where you are. For safety.”
More kisses. “You’re the best.”
She practically skipped to bed. I waited until she was asleep. Then I scrolled through her phone. Yeah, I know. But she just asked to screw her ex, so privacy’s out the window. I found Trevor’s address in their text chain. Lots of “can’t wait to see you” and “missed this ❤️”. Classy.
Then I did something that probably makes me an ass, but I have zero regrets. I called her dad.
Richard is a tough dude. Marine veteran, owns a construction company, and thinks his daughter walks on water. He’s already calling me “son.”
“Marcus, it’s late. Everything okay?”
“Hey, Richard. Sorry to call so late. Quick question. Jenna mentioned she’s helping her friend Sarah move on Saturday. Did she tell you guys? Wanted to make sure we’re coordinating stories, right?”
A pause. “She told her mother she’s having a ‘girls’ spa weekend.'”
“Interesting. Ah, must have gotten mixed up. My bad.”
“Marcus… what’s going on?”
I sighed. “I don’t want to get in the middle of this, but… she’s planning to visit Trevor on Saturday.”
The silence was deafening. Then: “Trevor? Her ex, Trevor? The one who—” He didn’t finish, but I knew Trevor had cheated on Jenna multiple times. Richard had threatened to rearrange his face when they broke up.
“Yeah. She says she needs ‘closure.'”
“Closure?” His voice was deadly quiet.
“Look, I just thought you should know. She’s an adult, her choices… but…”
“What’s the address?”
I gave it to him. We hung up without another word.
Saturday came. Jenna spent two hours getting ready. New lingerie—I saw the tags in the trash. She kissed me goodbye like she was going to work. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning! Thank you for being so understanding!”
“Take your time,” I said. “Get all the closure you need.”
She left at 6:00 p.m. At 6:45, Richard texted me: I’m here.
At 7:23, my phone exploded. Jenna, calling. I let it ring. Texts flooded in.
What did you do?? My DAD IS HERE!
Marcus, pick up! This is crazy!
How could you?!
At 8:15, Richard called. “She’s in my truck. We’re having a conversation about honesty and respect.”
“Is she okay?”
“She’s fine. Embarrassed. Trevor nearly wet himself when I knocked. Opened the door in his boxers with candles lit everywhere.” He snorted. “Closure, my ass. What now?”
“Now,” I said, looking at the boxes I’d already started packing, “I’d suggest you drive your daughter home.”
Update One
After Richard dropped Jenna off Saturday night, she came home to find her stuff in boxes by the door. The screaming started immediately. “You humiliated me! You called my dad! What are you, twelve?”
“You asked to sleep with your ex,” I said calmly.
“You said you understood!”
“I understood perfectly. That’s why your stuff’s packed.”
She tried every angle. Tears, anger, seduction. Nothing worked. She finally called an Uber to her parents’ house.
On Sunday, the flying monkeys arrived. Her best friend, Kayla. “You need to hear her side. She has unresolved trauma from that relationship. This was therapy!”
“Therapy happens in an office, not in your ex’s bed.”
On Monday, it was her mother, Linda. All tears and manipulation. “Marcus, sweetie, she’s devastated! You’re throwing away three years over one silly request!”
“Silly? She asked to cheat on me with permission.”
“It’s not cheating if you agreed!”
“I agreed she could do whatever she wanted, as a single woman.”
“But the wedding is in six months! Deposits are paid! What will people think?”
“Ah, there it is,” I said. “The real concern. That’s Jenna’s problem now.”
Tuesday was Mr. Closure himself, Trevor. He showed up at my job. Graphic tee, skinny jeans, guitar pick necklace. “Bro, we need to talk.”
“No, thanks.”
“Look, I didn’t know she was engaged, okay? She said you guys were having problems, that you were controlling.”
“So controlled I let her go to your apartment.”
“You called her dad, man! That’s psycho behavior!”
“And you lit candles for another man’s fiancé. That’s home-wrecker behavior.” I was still am. She’s all yours.”
His face changed. “Wait, what? No, I’m not looking for anything serious.”
“Should have thought of that before offering ‘closure’ appointments.”
Security escorted him out after he started yelling about me ruining everything. Apparently, Jenna had been blowing up his phone, and he wanted his “chill life” back.
But the real entertainment came today. Jenna showed up with her entire family. Richard looked uncomfortable. Linda was in full mama bear mode.
“We’re here to help you two work through this misunderstanding,” Linda started.
“No misunderstanding. Jenna wanted to sleep with her ex. I said okay. She’s single now. Pretty straightforward.”
“She didn’t actually do anything!” her brother piped up.
“Because she got caught,” I said, “not because she changed her mind.”
“That’s not fair!” Jenna wailed. “I was going to tell Trevor we should just talk!”
“In your lingerie?” I asked.
Richard finally spoke. “Jenna, enough. The man’s made his decision.”
“Dad! You’re supposed to be on my side!”
“I am. That’s why I’m telling you to stop embarrassing yourself further.”
Linda turned on him. “How can you say that? She’s your daughter!”
“Who asked her fiancé for permission to cheat,” Richard shot back. “He said no by saying yes. It’s done.”
After they left, Jenna’s texts started. I’ll go to therapy. We can do couples counseling. It was a moment of weakness. Please don’t throw us away.
And my personal favorite: This isn’t fair. I didn’t actually do anything. You’re punishing me for being honest.
The entitlement is staggering. She genuinely believes she deserves credit for telling me she wanted to cheat instead of just doing it secretly. The closure she wanted? She got it. Just not how she planned.
Final Update
The family drama escalated exactly as you’d expect. Linda started a social media campaign with vague quotes about forgiveness, until Richard commented: Our daughter asked her fiancé for permission to cheat. He gave it by ending the relationship. Stop embarrassing our family further. Nuclear war in the comments. Linda deleted everything within hours.
But the grand finale came last weekend. I was at a bar with friends when Trevor walked in with Jenna. They were clearly on a date. He went to the bathroom, and she saw me.
“Marcus,” she said, walking over. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“Great. You got your closure, I see.”
“This isn’t—we’re just talking.”
“In that dress? Sure. I’m single now, thanks to you. I can do what I want.”
“Absolutely. Enjoy.”
Trevor came back, saw me, and tried to steer her away, but she was on a roll. “You threw away our future over nothing!”
“Over you asking to sleep with the guy you’re literally on a date with right now?” The bar was getting quiet. People love free drama.
Trevor looked at Jenna. “What engagement ring?”
Oh, she hadn’t told him we were engaged. Just “having problems.”
“The one I gave her six months ago when I proposed,” I said. “Before she decided she needed your d**k for therapeutic purposes.”
Trevor looked at Jenna. “You said you guys broke up months ago.”
“We were having issues!”
“We had zero issues until you invented one!”
“Jesus Christ, Jenna. Again?” Trevor said. Apparently, this wasn’t her first “closure” request. He walked out. Just left her there.
Jenna turned on me, tears streaming. “Look what you did! You ruined everything!”
“I didn’t ask you to sleep with your ex.”
“I didn’t sleep with him! Because your dad showed up!”
“Not because you changed your mind.”
“I hope you die alone!”
“Rather die alone than live with someone who needs to sample other d**ks for closure.”
She threw her drink at me. Security threw her out. I’m done.
Trevor ghosted her. Her parents are embarrassed. And she’s still posting vague quotes about “mature love” and “small-minded people.” Me? I’m just glad her dad picked up the phone that night. Best decision I ever made. The request itself was the dealbreaker. You don’t ask someone you love to let you cheat. Period.