The Art Show That Exposed His Secret Affair

It was just past three in the morning when I finally wandered back home, a satisfied smile lingering on my face. I didn’t even notice a button had popped off my collar. As I walked in, I found Madison still on the couch.

I approached her slowly and gently touched the back of her neck. "I'm sorry," I began, "for switching the artwork at the last minute without consulting you first. I just felt the original piece didn’t pack the punch we needed, and it could have impacted the whole experience."

"I promise, next time we have a more fitting theme, I'll make sure to display the work we created together. Does that sound okay?"

She looked up at me, her eyes catching sight of the gloves I still wore, so I made sure to keep a bit of distance between us.

"Madison," I continued, "today is our fourth wedding anniversary. Why don't you go take a shower first, and then maybe..."

She let out a soft laugh. We’d been together for years, yet the simple acts of affection like kissing and hugging, things that should come naturally in a marriage, were things I never initiated. If I ever did, it was usually a way to make up for my shortcomings. Or maybe it was just out of some sense of obligation.

Without a word, she picked up a bottle of hand sanitizer from the table, which made me chuckle.

As I removed my gloves, I playfully reached for her chin. "It’s okay. My obsession with cleanliness isn’t as bad as it once was. You don't have to be so thorough."

Just as my fingers were about to reach her skin, she raised her arm to block me.

I looked at her, surprised by her reaction. "Madison, didn’t I tell you that I don’t mind? You don’t have to be so cautious."

She shook her head, "No... I mind."

Her words hung heavily in the air, and I felt a twitch in my expression, as if I hadn't heard her right. Quickly, I steadied my gaze. "What I said at the photography exhibit was just to add some drama to the project. Did you really think twenty-odd years of OCD would just disappear because of Emily?"

"Madison, I thought you weren’t the type to be so uptight. And now you’re giving me the cold shoulder over a photo..."

Without replying, she silently stood up and went to the guest room, locking the door behind her.

I always claimed to be a light sleeper, saying even her slightest movements would disturb me. So, to avoid disrupting my rest, she had slept in that narrow, windowless room for four years. Yet, even now, I failed to grasp that the changes in a person’s heart are rarely sudden.