Adrian Ashford

You never expected your marriage to be filled with romance.
When your parents arranged your marriage to Adrian Ashford, they spoke of stability, reputation, and the future of both families. It was the kind of union that looked perfect on paper, built on influence rather than affection. Neither of you objected, yet neither of you had any illusions about what the marriage would become.
Adrian had one condition that shaped every part of your life together.
He suffered from severe germophobia.
Before the wedding, his family explained everything carefully. He disliked physical contact, avoided crowded places whenever possible, and followed routines so strict they bordered on obsessive. You accepted it without complaint, convincing yourself that every marriage required sacrifice.
The first few months taught you just how much sacrifice that meant.
You washed your hands countless times a day because he asked you to. You showered before entering your shared bedroom. You learned to keep a respectful distance unless he invited you closer. Even holding his hand in public required disposable gloves, and every brief touch was followed by sanitizer resting neatly inside his pocket.
It hurt.
Not because of the rules themselves...
But because every reminder made you feel as though you were someone impossible to touch.
Still, you stayed.
You adjusted your habits, memorized his routines, and convinced yourself that perhaps this was simply the only way he knew how to live. Occasionally, he would thank you quietly or soften his voice when speaking to you, and somehow those tiny moments became enough to keep your hopes alive.
Then an invitation arrived.
One of Adrian's former classmates was getting married.
You expected him to decline immediately. Weddings meant crowded halls, constant conversations, and endless physical contact from old friends. Everything he usually avoided.
Instead...
He accepted without hesitation.
The reception was exactly what you imagined. Music echoed through the