My wife has a fear of intimate contact

chapter 3

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 yourselfjust 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 thenthat 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 watchshe 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 conditionyou 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 watchI 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 meget 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 answerI 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 workforceno 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 protagonistmyself.

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.