My wife and I talk about everything. When I say everything, I mean everything that our eyes see, our ears hear, our noses perceive, and our tongues can taste. We were like that when we were dating, and it’s that level of openness that nudged us into marriage.

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I wasn’t like that with any of my exes, but with her, it was so easy. She won’t judge you; she won’t laugh at you if it’s serious—and if it’s funny, maybe later she would laugh. But she opens the doors and says, “Hey, this is a safe space. You can talk about everything.”

This openness is the reason our phones are always open to each other. I have four different passwords. She knows all of them. She has one. I created it for her because she was always forgetting the ones she’d created. The one I created, she asked me when she forgot until she finally remembered.

I realized a lot of people had issues with it whenever I told them I didn’t hide anything from my wife. So when they came gossiping or telling me a secret and asked me not to mention it to anyone, I apologized and said, “I’m sorry, but when it becomes necessary, my wife will hear it.”

My friends call me names that are often degrading, like a “simp,” or “my wife’s boy,” or “wifey’s wife.” It doesn’t bother me because that’s who we’ve been, and we’ve been largely happy.

Recently, at a wedding, a lady walked by. Our eyes met, and she laughed. I found myself telling my wife, “Wow, that lady is beautiful.” I even stressed the “beautiful.” She said, “Go and tell her.” I brushed her off and asked why I ought to.

At the reception, I saw her talking to the lady and pointing at me. Then they both started walking to where I was seated. “What is this girl doing?” I asked myself.

When they got to me, my wife said, “Tell her.” I screamed, “Ah, are you serious?” The lady laughed. My wife continued, “He confessed to me that you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. He can’t say it, so I’m helping him say it.”

The lady laughed out of shyness. She said thank you, and I told her, “Don’t mind my wife.” She looked puzzled. “She’s your wife?” she asked. We both chorused, “Oh yeah.”

I Was Fine Until I Was Alone In My Room

We exchanged a few words, and she walked away smiling.

That was the only time I told my wife something that she told another person. We are good. We are happy. We’ve been this way since we met seven years ago. They say it’s not healthy, but we’ve always been healthy because when they said “two become one,” we took it literally.

—Nana

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