I’ve been pretending to love coffee for years and I don’t know how to stop now

I feel like a fraud in my own house.
So, when I first started dating my now-husband, I told him I liked coffee because he LOVED it. Obsessed. Black, no sugar, dark roast, espresso machine — the whole deal. He made it such a cute thing in our early relationship, bringing me “my favorite” cold brew, planning coffee dates, even buying me fancy beans for birthdays.

But here’s the thing. I hate coffee. Always have. It tastes like burnt dirt water. But I loved him and didn’t want to be the girl who ordered hot chocolate at a café while he talked about brewing methods.

So I started pretending. I’d sip it, smile, say “Mmm, smooth,” then secretly pour it into the sink or give it to a coworker. When we moved in together, it got harder. So I started adding tons of milk and sugar. He noticed and offered to “adjust the ratios” and now he makes me one every morning before I wake up. It’s the first thing I smell each day. And I drink it.

I’ve trained myself to tolerate it over the years, but not enjoy it. I even have a favorite roast now (a total lie). He bought me a coffee subscription for Christmas. Once he surprised me with a barista class. I smiled so much that day my face hurt.

It’s not even the coffee anymore — it’s the web of lies I’ve built. I don’t know how to come clean after all this time. What do I say? “Babe, you know those 800 cups of coffee you’ve lovingly made for me over the years? Yeah, I’ve been suffering through every one of them.”

Maybe I’ll keep pretending until I die. Or maybe I’ll fake a sudden “change in taste buds” and switch to tea. I don’t know. I’m in too deep. Help.