My wife has a fear of intimate contact
For ten years of marriage, she has pushed me away time and again. Until our wedding anniversary, when she left me behind and passionately kissed another man, walking hand in hand into a luxury hotel.
Afterward, Taylor said to me matter-of-factly: "Men should be more generous and not so petty."
Generous?
I said: "Then I wish you two all the best together."
A few days later, I handed her the divorce papers with an expressionless face, determined to leave her for good.
But she went crazy because of my disappearance.
*****
"I have intimacy phobia, don't force me." Taylor gently pushed away my hand reaching toward her, turned around, and said nothing more.
Yes, we've been married for exactly ten years, yet we've never had a real married life.
I've always longed to have children, and both sets of parents have urged us many times. But whenever I wanted to take things further with Taylor, she would always coldly refuse, claiming she was "afraid of physical contact." Helplessly, I could only tell others that I was too busy with work and had no energy for family matters, shielding her from relatives' gossip.
I love Taylor. I believe she has some unspeakable difficulty, so I never force her, only retreating to the bathroom alone to take care of myself.
Perhaps she also sensed that her coldness had hurt me. After I returned, she would turn around and hug my waist, nuzzling affectionately in my arms. "Honey, let's go to sleep."
Feeling her shallow breathing, a strong unease slowly welled up in my heart.
To dispel this feeling, the next day I deliberately finished work at the hospital early, booked a high-end restaurant, wanting to surprise her and strengthen our relationship.
But after waiting two hours, she never showed up.
I called her colleague and learned that their company was having a dinner party today.
The colleague said: "This gathering was scheduled by Ms. Larson a week ago."
But Taylor never told me. In the early days of our marriage, she used to share everything in her life with me.
Looking at the messages on WhatsApp that hadn't been replied to for a long time, I drove to the KTV where they were having their dinner party.
The moment I saw what was happening inside, my hand froze on the door handle, and my body instantly felt like it had fallen into an ice cave.
Taylor was being held in the arms of a young man, not struggling, not dodging. Amid the crowd's cheering, she closed her eyes and calmly accepted the man's deep kiss.
After the party ended, I overheard her conversation with her best friend Andrea Evans in the hallway corner.
She said: "Actually, before marriage, I really loved George. Being apart for just a morning would make me miss him so much I'd panic. But after marriage, whenever he gets close to me or wants to touch me, I can always smell blood, making me so nauseous I want to throw up. I lied to him about having intimacy phobia, and I didn't expect him to actually believe it. Ten years of marriage, appearing loving on the surface, but behind closed doors, I haven't done a single thing that married couples should do with him."
"Bottom line, you just don't love him anymore," Andrea said flatly, seeing right through her.
Taylor chuckled softly, neither confirming nor denying.
Andrea asked: "What about today's intern? Jayden Howell, right? Don't tell me you're actually falling for him?"
Taylor casually ran her fingers through her hair. "No, not quite there yet."
Andrea said: "I'm warning you, playing around is fine, but don't go too far. You and George were the most famous couple on campus back then. He treasures you like his life. If you ever go too far and something really happens, no one will be able to save you."
Taylor scoffed. "Thirteen years of feelings - would he really be willing to let go?"
Taylor's words pierced my heart like silver needles.
All these Christmas memories came flooding back, and I realized she never had any phobia at all—she simply didn't love me.
Those two words "want to throw up" wrapped around my throat like iron chains, making it impossible to breathe.
She knew me better than anyone, which is exactly why she could strike at my soft spots with such precision, using them as leverage for her betrayal.
I remembered the name Jayden all too clearly.
He was the new intern who joined Taylor's company at the beginning of this Christmas season.
The first time she mentioned him, her voice was filled with barely concealed admiration.
She told me how Jayden had messed up an important partnership project.
But he refused to give up, blocking the departing business partner and tearfully begging for another chance, nearly fainting from emotional distress.
This kind of unwavering determination was something many college students today lacked.
In the end, Taylor couldn't stand watching anymore. She angrily confronted the aggressive business partner and pulled Jayden out of the conference room.
At the time, I didn't understand: "Isn't this just making a scene? He screwed up the company's partnership—the responsibility is entirely his. The business partner has every right to terminate the deal. You can't force them to accept the partnership just because you feel sorry for Jayden."
Taylor rarely got angry with me, but this time her eyes flashed with disappointment: "And you call yourself a doctor? You don't have an ounce of empathy. I'm really disappointed in you."
I didn't doubt my perspective because of her anger and continued trying to correct her thinking.
But she stubbornly sided with Jayden, even suggesting that I'd been too sheltered.
Because of this incident, we didn't speak for several days.
In the end, I was the one who apologized, swallowing my pride to win her back.
From that day on, I remembered Jayden's name.
I just never imagined that Jayden would transform into Taylor's assistant.
It was also from that moment that an invisible barrier formed between Taylor and me.
When you love someone, you can't help but want to share every little detail of your life with them. When you stop sharing, that's when the love is gone.
All the signs had already surfaced.
After work, I went to bed early. I felt subtle movement beside me.
Familiar warmth pressed against me as Taylor's soft body wrapped around mine.
I fought back the urge to vomit, quickly rolling away and saying coldly, "It's too hot."
Her hand froze in mid-air, as if she hadn't expected me to pull away.
I could sense she was in a good mood tonight—initiating physical contact was already the most intimate gesture between us.
She didn't pursue it further, tucking the covers around me before turning away to look at her phone.
I don't know when it started, but Taylor, who never used to stay up late, began scrolling through her phone until the early hours, even clutching it when she went to the bathroom.
Just as I was drifting off to sleep, I suddenly received a text message. My instincts told me it was from Jayden.
I took a deep breath, my fingertips trembling as I opened it.
Jayden had sent me a screenshot of his chat with Taylor from five minutes earlier.
He'd sent Taylor a photo of himself in a bathrobe, along with a room number.
【I don't dare ask you to divorce for me. I just want to stay by your side, to hold you when you're sad.】
【If you don't come tonight, I'll keep waiting.】
And Taylor had softened, replying: 【Wait for me.】
I'd never seen such a shameless man before. For a moment, I was stunned.
Right after reading that chat log, Taylor got up and started getting dressed.
She said, "There's a sudden issue with the project. I need to handle it personally."
Over the past ten years, she'd used this exact line countless times to leave home in the middle of the night. And I, because I loved her deeply, never questioned it, never tried to stop her.
Looking back now, she was probably going to see Jayden all those times.
I said, "I'll come with you."
Taylor's movements paused almost imperceptibly, then she reached up to gently caress my cheek. "It's already so late. Don't trouble yourself—just get some sleep. If you wear yourself out staying up, it'll break my heart. Don't worry, I'll be back early."
With that, she showed no hesitation and turned to leave.
I quietly called a cab and followed her.
Taylor drove extremely fast, nearly losing my driver several times.
It was pouring rain outside, and Jayden was standing there waiting for her.
The two of them embraced like lovers who'd been separated for ages, unable to control themselves the moment they saw each other.
I fought back the sting in my eyes and pulled out my phone, which I'd prepared beforehand, aiming it at them and pressing the shutter.
To completely kill any lingering hope, I even recorded a twenty-second video.
They kissed passionately, reluctant to part, then walked hand in hand through the hotel entrance.
Back in the car, I composed myself and dialed the number I knew by heart.
My former doctoral advisor, Callum Fisher, answered the phone.
He was abroad now, where it was currently morning.
I said, "Prof. Fisher, do you still need people for that medical project?"
He paused for a moment, his voice actually trembling slightly. "George, have you made up your mind? As long as you're willing to come, there's always a place for you on the project team."
When I graduated with my doctorate ten years ago, Callum had tried hard to convince me to stay, inviting me to go abroad with him for further research and continue my academic career.
It would have been a tremendous opportunity for me to advance to the next level.
But Taylor didn't want a long-distance relationship. So I chose to stay.
Deep down, though, I regretted it more than anyone.
Now, I finally had a chance to start over.
I don't regret my choice back then—that young George was willing to give up his dreams for love. And the current George has the courage to set out again for himself.
Every choice has been a decision I made by following my heart.
*****
A day later, Callum and I arranged to meet in a month.
Dragging my exhausted body home, I pulled out a bottle of wine I'd been saving for years and poured glass after glass down my throat.
Just over a month left, and everything would truly be over.
My phone suddenly buzzed with a message from my good friend Tate Foster.
【How'd it go? That restaurant I recommended was great, right?】
【What woman could resist that kind of romantic gesture? Taylor must be head over heels for you now, right?】
All our friends thought Taylor was madly in love with me. I used to think so too.
Only now do I realize that love really can be faked.
Looking down at my watch, I let out a self-mocking laugh.
This watch—she and I bought it during our most difficult years.
She had just started her business then, and I'd given her all my savings to support her.
During the worst period, we often went hungry.
To buy me this watch, she secretly took on part-time jobs, sleeping less than four hours a night.
It wasn't until she collapsed on the street one day and was rushed to the hospital that I learned the truth.
I rushed into the hospital room, and her first reaction upon seeing me was to hide her scraped palm under the bed.
I blamed myself for not taking better care of her and asked through tears why she'd taken those jobs.
But she just smiled and wiped away my tears. "Silly, it was for your birthday present, of course. But there's a condition—you have to promise to marry me."
Later, her business grew bigger and bigger. We moved into a larger house, and life gradually became comfortable.
But I kept wearing this inexpensive watch.
She once suggested I get a more expensive one, but I refused without hesitation.
Because in my heart, it had earned an irreplaceable place.
Remembering how she looked at me with such love in her eyes during my birthday celebration, I took off the watch and placed it on the nightstand.
Her words from the past seemed to still echo in my ears.
But everything had changed.
This watch—I didn't want to keep it anymore either.
?
In the early morning hours, Taylor called: "There are still issues with the project that haven't been resolved. I won't be coming home tonight. Don't wait up for me—get some rest."
Before I could respond, she hung up.
With alcohol still coursing through my veins, I simply collapsed onto the living room carpet and fell into a deep sleep.
In my dreams, time rewound to that summer when Taylor and I first met.
Under the blazing sun, her roommate pushed her toward me, and she stammered, "You look like my boyfriend."
That straightforward yet clumsy pickup line became the beginning of our story.
Because of that line, her roommates crowned me the "love guru."
After that, she kept finding excuses to ask me out for spaghetti.
Even though we weren't in the same college, I somehow kept running into her everywhere.
Not long after the semester started, many people confessed their feelings to me, but initially I had no interest in Taylor.
But she was like a little sun, slowly winning me over.
We went through undergrad and graduate school together.
The day I graduated with my PhD, she pulled out a pair of rings and asked if I would marry her.
I didn't answer—I just dropped to one knee and pulled out the ring I'd been carrying in my pocket.
She said yes without hesitation.
She threw herself into my arms, tears in her eyes, saying, "George, I want to love you forever. We'll never be apart, okay?"
Now, she's the one pushing me away.
Lies have become the sword that's splitting us apart.
*****
The next morning, a colleague's call woke me up. The throw pillow was soaked with tears.
Taylor never came home.
I told myself: this is the last time I'll cry over her.
After a quick wash in the bathroom, I drove to the hospital.
Even though I'd decided to leave, I couldn't abandon the work that needed to be handed over, and I had several patients with appointments to see.
That's how brutal life is after entering the workforce—no matter how you're feeling today, work still has to get done.
While waiting at a red light, I opened my phone and texted my lawyer friend, asking about divorce procedures.
There was no hysteria between us, no fighting.
I didn't need another woman to suddenly appear and rescue me from my pain.
I had loved Taylor deeply, but I could still live a fulfilling life without her.
In my world, there's always been only one protagonist—myself.
This marriage had reached its end.
After submitting my resignation letter to the director, I threw myself into work.
Patient after patient kept me dizzy with busyness, temporarily pushing thoughts of Taylor to the back of my mind.
But I never expected that before I could confront Taylor, she would show up on her own.
I was holding post-operative reports, about to find the family to discuss post-care instructions, when I spotted that familiar figure around a corner in the hallway.
Taylor was clutching Jayden's arm as they rushed into the emergency department.
The room they entered was exactly the one I was heading to.
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