Think about it. The most gripping scenes in Trigonometry involve a character feeling left out of an inside joke. The most painful moment in the polyamorous storyline of Easy (Season 3, Episode 1) is when a husband realizes his wife is enjoying sex with another man in a way she never did with him—not because of betrayal, but because of comparison .
For centuries, the architecture of the romantic storyline has been remarkably rigid. The blueprint is almost sacred: two people meet, obstacles arise, they overcome them, they commit exclusively, and they live “happily ever after.” From Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice to the latest Netflix holiday special, the monogamous couple is the default unit of happiness.
Successful storylines must address this. The brilliant (and canceled-too-soon) show You Me Her started as a comedic take on a "throuple" but eventually had to confront the reality that the married couple (the "primary dyad") often made decisions without the third partner. When fiction glosses over this, it feels like propaganda. When it leans in, it feels like art.
This is dramatically rich territory. Traditional romance asks: Will they stay faithful? Open relationship romance asks: Will they stay honest?