The Germaphobe Husband's Dirty Secret

For two months, Natalie pulled strings to become her husband Colin's biggest corporate client, then arrived unannounced at his Seattle branch's welcome dinner. There, a parlor game exposed the lie at the heart of their fifteen-year marriage: the colleagues describe Colin as a slob whose girlfriend leaves pastry crumbs on his desk and berry lip gloss on his collar. At home in Chicago, Colin had demanded hospital-grade disinfectant, antiseptic gargles and ultraviolet wands before he would touch her—a mysophobia he blamed on the night he saved her from an attack three years earlier.

Then Brianna bursts in, frosting on her fingers, and kisses him. Colin licks the sugar from his lips before he sees Natalie. He fumbles for the hand sanitizer he never carries, calls his wife "Ms. Cooper," and begs her silently to hide their marriage. She agrees: they have never met.

His text arrives beneath the table, asking to explain. She does not reply.