After I Turned My Gay Best Friend into My Husband

I've had a friend for three years. He's handsome, rich, and gentle, but I've never seen him date anyone.

My best friend said he was probably gay, and I believed her.

The night my ex-boyfriend betrayed me, I got drunk and asked him, “You're gay, right? Why don't we just get together?”

He didn't deny it. “You're drunk. Let's talk tomorrow.”

The next day, he handed me a glass of honey water and asked, “Does what you said last night still stand?”

Thinking we wouldn't share a room, wouldn't interfere in each other's lives, and could split up whenever we wanted, I blurted out, “Yes.”

Two hours later, I had a marriage certificate in my hands.

It wasn't until I found the photos he'd secretly taken of me over the past three years that I asked him:

“Weren't you gay?!”

He pinned me against the wall and murmured, “When did I ever say that? For three years, you made all of that up in your own head.”

I was so angry I wanted a divorce, but he pulled me into his arms, his eyes red-rimmed. “I waited three years for you. I didn't do it to be your roommate.”