She Wouldn't Do "It"

My wife, Lindsey Kelsey, suffers from an aversion to intimacy. For ten years of marriage, she pushed me away again and again.

Then, on our anniversary, she abandoned me and, in front of the crowd, kissed another man with reckless passion before the two of them walked hand in hand into a luxury hotel.

Afterward, Lindsey brazenly declared that a real man should be magnanimous, not petty.

Magnanimous?

Then I wish them both eternal bliss—may they be bound so tightly they can never break free from one another.

Later, I handed Lindsey the divorce papers with a blank expression. I was determined to walk away from her.

But Lindsey went mad when she realized she couldn't find me anymore.

"I have a fear of physical intimacy. Don't force me."

Lindsey Kelsey pushed away the hand I had reached out to hold, then turned her back on me without another word.

Yes, we've been married for ten years—yet not once have we shared a night as husband and wife.

I've always loved children. Both of our families have urged us time and again to start one. But whenever I tried to get closer, Lindsey would panic and stop me, claiming her phobia of intimacy.

Helpless, I shielded her by telling relatives that my work at the hospital left me too exhausted.

I loved Lindsey. I thought she must have her own secret pain, so I never forced her. Instead, I retreated to the bathroom to deal with my needs in silence.

Perhaps she sensed how much her rejection hurt me. That night, when I returned, she wrapped her arms around my waist and nuzzled against me.

"Darling, let's just sleep." Her soft breath brushed my chest, yet a wave of unease stirred deep inside me.

The next day, determined to chase away my doubts, I rushed through my hospital work, left early, and booked a French restaurant. I wanted to surprise Lindsey, to rekindle our bond.

But two hours later, she still hadn't shown up. When I called one of her company's staff, I learned the truth.

"There's a company gathering tonight. Ms. Kelsey scheduled it a week ago."

A week ago—and she hadn't told me. Back when we first married, she shared everything with me, no matter how trivial.

Staring at her unread messages on WhatsApp, I finally drove to the clubhouse where her company was having its gathering.

The moment I looked through the doorway, my hand froze on the knob. My body turned to ice.

Lindsey was in another man's arms. She didn't struggle, didn't resist. Instead, with a look of pure enjoyment, she kissed him deeply while the others cheered.

Later, after the gathering ended, I overheard her talking with her close friend, Destiny Carmine.

"Before marriage, I really did love George. Even a morning apart felt unbearable. But every time he tried to sleep with me after we wed, I swear I could smell blood on him. It made me… nauseous. So I lied, told him