His Illness Was A Weapon

For six years, my marriage was a clinical trial. I was the doctor for my husband Jackson' s severe contamination OCD, enduring endless cleaning rituals just for a touch.

Then I found a used condom wrapper in his car. I soon learned he was breaking every single one of his pathological rules for his mistress-kissing her feet, sharing greasy pizza. His "illness" was a lie, a weapon used only against me.

When I confronted him, he chose her. To protect his reputation, he threatened to cut off my mother's life-saving cancer treatment.