My husband, Ethan, had severe germaphobia. Even if I just ran downstairs to take out the trash, I ha

My husband, Ethan, had severe germaphobia. Even if I just ran downstairs to take out the trash, I had to shower and change all my clothes before I was allowed to touch him. A month ago, I fractured my right wrist. The doctor told me not to get it wet. I asked Ethan if he could help wash my delicates for a few days. He didn't say a word. That very afternoon, he bought me a hundred-pack of disposable underwear. I didn't blame him. In fact, I turned around and comforted him instead. "It's fine, Ethan. I know it's hard for you." For three years of marriage, that was what I always told myself. Until today. I came home alone from the hospital, only to see him standing on the balcony, hand-washing a woman's lace thong. Soft pink lace soaked in a basin of water. He wasn't even wearing rubber gloves. The woman he had brought home three days ago to "recover from an injury" leaned against the doorframe, her face flushed as she whispered, "I told you, I could do it myself." Ethan kept his head down, scrubbing gently. "Your wound can't get wet." I stood there in the hallway for a long time before I finally asked, "You made me go to my follow-up appointment alone just so you could hand-wash her underwear?" "Don't you find that disgusting?" Ethan finally realized I was home. "Her health is fragile, and she saved my life. We need to take extra care of her." He paused, a slight frown touching his brow. "Besides, I'm already exhausted from work. Don't be jealous over every little thing." Looking at his water-logged, pale fingertips, my hands clenched into tight fists. So Ethan wasn't disgusted by germs. He was only disgusted by me. If that was the case... I didn't want to be Mrs. Miller anymore. I turned around and walked back into our bedroom. A moment later, Ethan followed me inside. "Still mad?"#revengestory #reddit_tiktok #askredditstories #relationship #revengereturns #reddit #drama #revenge #redditstories #redditreadings