A cheated marriage

As indicated by a statistical report, the proportion of homosexuals in the total population of our nation was approximately 5%. However, nearly 90% of these people concealed their true sexual orientation and, under the pressure of public opinion and family, chose to marry people of the opposite sex. And those who married homosexuals were called gay husbands or lesbian wives.

Previously, I knew more or less something about this aspect, but I didn't expect that it would actually happen to me one day.

My husband, Terry Reid, was handsome, tall, of excellent character, came from a wealthy family, and was gentle and loving towards me.

After I got together with Terry, I had no idea how many women were envious of me. Terry treated me really well at that time.

He was nothing less than the ideal husband that all women dreamed of. It was by no means an exaggeration to describe him as a dream lover.

But I never expected that my seemingly perfect husband was actually gay. And I became a gay's wife.

I met Terry at a friend's birthday party. The moment I saw him, I was completely captivated.

At that time, he was seated all by himself in a corner. He neither played with his cellphone nor engaged in any conversation. Nor did he smoke or drink. There was a gentle smile lingering on his face as he quietly watched the others having fun.

His handsome and well-behaved appearance instantly captured my heart.

After the party, I got his contact information from a friend and began my relentless pursuit.

Initially, he was calm and directly rejected me, saying he didn't want to date and wanted to focus on his work.

I knew Terry was the deputy general manager of a listed company and was indeed busy.

However, his using such a reason to reject me was an insult to me, a downright insult.

In a girl's heart, if a boy rejected you on the grounds of work, it indicated that he didn't fancy you at all.

But I was someone who wouldn't give up easily. The more Terry turned me down, the more patient and determined I became.

After pestering him relentlessly for three months, at noon on June 18th, right after getting off work, Terry called me.

I remember it clearly. He said, "Where are you? Let's meet."

Getting invited by the person you like on their own initiative was much more exciting than hitting the jackpot in a lottery.

When we met, Terry, with a hint of apology, said, "Sorry to interrupt your lunch break, but I want to discuss something with you."

I thought it was not something serious, but what he said next left me stunned. Terry said, "Let's get married!"

Marriage!

Those word struck me like a bolt of lightning. I was stunned for two seconds, afraid he might change his mind, and immediately agreed.

That afternoon, I didn't go to work. I didn't even bother to ask for leave. I went straight home, grabbed my ID, and met Terry at City Hall.

My parents knew I liked Terry. During the three months I pursued him, I talked about him every day. They had seen his photo and knew about him.

So, being able to marry Terry made my parents even happier than me.

After getting married, Terry was still occupied with his work, and I resigned from my job to be a full-time housewife.

Terry said, "You don't need to work. I can fully support you."

To prove this point, Terry purchased a house for my parents and had it registered under my name. Moreover, he gave me a supplementary credit card which had no spending limit.

That evening, when he came home from work, looking exhausted, he said, "I'm back!"

I immediately went to greet him, asking, "You're back! Have you eaten? What would you like me to cook?"

"No need, I ate outside. I'm a bit tired, so I'll take a shower first."

As he spoke, he took off his clothes and headed to the bathroom. But when he removed his pants, I noticed a wet patch on his underwear, similar to the kind of stain that might appear during a woman's period.

I frowned instinctively, wondering if he had soiled his pants.

While I was feeling disgusted, Terry's phone, which had been placed aside, vibrated a few times.

I glanced at it and saw a message from someone saved as "Client Daddy".

I thought it must be work-related, but then I wondered why someone as capable as Terry, a deputy general manager of a listed company, would save the contact as "Client Daddy" so humbly.

Driven by curiosity, I peeked at his Whatsapp messages. What I saw shocked me.

The message from "Client Daddy" read, "Baby, today wasn't much fun. Let's meet again next time."

The profile picture was of a muscular man who was almost naked except for wearing only a pair of underwear.

I immediately clicked on the profile picture, attempting to check out his social media, yet discovered that Terry had left detailed descriptions as remarks for this contact.

His note read," 27 years old, fitness coach, dominant, into S&M, prefers sex without a condom!"

Upon seeing these words, I was literally petrified. There was no doubt that any adult would grasp the implications of these words.

Terry categorized this contact under "HB," which I didn't understand at first, but then it hit me. HB meant "Hookup buddy."

I took a look at the contact list under the category of "HB" and discovered that there were thirty-seven people in it, and each of them had different remarks as notes.

"Big Cannon," "Delivery Guy," "Courier at the Door," "Soldier Buddy," "One-time Encounter"...

Seeing these notes made me feel sick. Terry had detailed descriptions for each person, just like "Client Daddy".

From this, I concluded that Terry wasn't interested in women!