"How to get your husband to love you," Aria questioned, stirring her smoothie with a half-smile.
"That's easy," Maria chimed in, flipping her hair like she was in a shampoo commercial. "Be dominating. Take the lead in your relationship. Men respect power"
"Zip it, girl. You're way off topic," Zane interrupted, rolling his eyes. "It's about love, not a business merger."
These three have been my best friends since birth. We live for each other. Might possibly kill for each other. Not literally, of course—but that's how close we are. Nothing ever felt off-limits until today. Because right now, while they argued about how to get a man to fall in love, I sat there… dumbfounded.
Frozen in my own time, the question still hanging in the air like smoke from a fire I couldn't put out. My throat tightened. I wanted to speak, but the words wouldn't come.
Maria leaned forward, crossing her legs on the couch, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Seriously, Michelle. You brought it up. What's going on? Spill."
I stared at the mug in my hands. The coffee had gone cold, untouched. The steam had died down long ago, but it still felt like I was suffocating in it. My hands trembled slightly, but I tried to act normal.
My silence had nothing to do with their banter, as I was still reeling from what happened just recently.
Aria finally noticed my expression and tilted her head curiously. "Wait… exactly why did you even bring up this topic? Is there something wrong with Kael? Is he being a jerk this early? Does he have a girlfriend? Is he cheating on you already?"
Her questions hit rapid-fire. I kept shaking my head, slow and mechanical, No , because none of those were the reason. Not even close. But that would've been easier. I knew why I asked. But saying it out loud? I wasn't ready. Not yet.
Two Days Ago — Wedding Night
"Michelle, I need to talk to you," Kael said as he gently pulled at the zipper of my white gown. His finger fumbled a few times but I didn't read into it.
"Okay, go on," I replied, half distracted, my fingers smoothing down the veil I just neatly bundled on the bed. I held my lace bodice as the zip had almost reached it's end.
He paused. His eyes, unusually serious, locked on mine. "I just want you to know that… Me and You... Us.... We might never enjoy our marriage."
I blinked. Once. Twice. I thought I misheard him.
My heart didn't flinch. I'd been ready for this sort of statement. It was a marriage of convenience, after all. Arranged. Practical. Loveless by design.
We weren't the perfect kind of childhood sweethearts although we grew up together. We weren't star-crossed lovers either. We were simply two signatures on a paper. A deal. A transaction wrapped in silk and white flowers.
"Then we'll work it out. I don't want that 'I hate you, I have someone I love' or 'I need to kick you out soon to be with my love' Crap. Just so you know, those are utter BULLSHIT. We'll get used to each other. Your job is to be my husband. Day and night. 24/7. 365 days every freaking year for the rest of our lives. Understood?"
He opened his mouth again but I steamrolled him, placing my finger on his lips to shush him, not even letting him begin a sentence. He took deep breaths like he was trying his hardest to be patient.
I couldn't stop. It was like I was fighting a war I didn't even realize had started.
His jaw clenched. "Michelle, I'm serious. It might not work out. it's not that simple—"
"It is simple!" I snapped. "Why do you keep acting negative?" my voice rose. "Marriage isn't always about love. We don't need love for a marriage to work. People stay married for worse things. Just cohabit peacefully. Is that so hard?"
"Yes, it is hard," he snapped back.
"Why?"
His lips parted, but no sound came. He blinked slowly. Painfully. Like someone bracing for the inevitable.
"Because I am—"
The silence that followed was colder than the air in the room.
I couldn't speak. My heartbeat thudded in my ears like a drum.
I think I forgot how to blink.
And then it hit me.
I didn't wait for the rest. I didn't need to.
It was obvious no explanation was needed.
I fell to the ground.
Not fainting. Not collapsing. Just… falling. Like all the weight I have been carrying decided to melt into my knees at once.
The carpet scratched at my skin, but I didn't move. I was surprised. Shocked. Almost confused. Not judging him. Not angry. I was… supportive. That's what I kept telling myself. This was supposed to be just a sham marriage. A façade. A paper-thin promise made for reasons bigger than love.
So why did it feel like my world tilted off its axis?
Why did his eyes, filled with shame, cut deeper than I ever expected?
He looked like he wanted to disappear—curl into himself and vanish. The room felt tight, airless. The silence buzzed louder than any scream.
He didn't try to comfort me. He just stood there. Still in his tux. Still mine, but never mine.
I kept staring, unsure whether to cry or laugh. I mean—this was life, right? Always serving the biggest plot twist when you're not ready for it.
I think I chuckled once. It came out choked.
But there it was.
Not shouted. Not confessed. Just... said.
And that single word kept echoing in my head like a drumbeat in a quiet hall.
I wasn't repulsed. I wasn't mad. But something inside me shifted.
And I didn't understand why.
I stared at him, every piece of my identity—the wife, the newlywed, the woman in love—cracking apart like a porcelain plate. It might be fake but...
I was still on my floor on this "supposed to be special night" , in my wedding dress, staring at the man I had promised forever to, while he told me I'd never be enough for him—not because of something I did, but because I wasn't him.
Then it rang in my head again...
"Because I am gay."