My husband asked me to invite my best friend to our house for a week because he said she was going through a difficult time. I agreed because we’ve been best friends since secondary school. On the third night, I woke up around 2 a.m. and noticed my husband wasn’t beside me. I went downstairs to get water, and I heard him talking to someone in the kitchen. Then I heard him say: “She still doesn’t know, and I don’t want her finding out from anybody else.” I froze when I heard my best friend’s voice reply: “Then you need to tell her before I leave this house.” I walked into the kitchen, and both of them went completely silent. I asked what they were talking about. My husband looked at her, and she immediately started crying. Then she held my hand and said: “I’m sorry. I should have told you before you married him.” I looked at my husband and asked what she was talking about. He said something that made my knees weak: “Ask her why she stopped talking to you for six months before your wedding.” The problem is, my best friend was the one who introduced me to my husband. And now I’m beginning to wonder if our entire relationship was planned before I even met him.

A priest and a rabbi are good friends and often have lunch together. One day, the priest says, "Sol, my friend, when are you going to figure out a way to share this absolutely wonderful honey baked ham with me?" Sol smiled and said, "At your wedding."