He was not particularly obsessive, except when it came to the refrigerator door. Maybe it was because when the compressor of the built-in refrigerator failed resulting in four visits by an incompetent technician over a five month period including waiting for parts and in the end costing twice as much as a new refrigerator (an option that wasn’t feasible because in his custom kitchen with the six-burner double oven Viking stove installed by the previous owners who were food professionals the fridge was a built-in overhead compressor restaurant model) he wanted the new compressor to last forever. Maybe it was because he had a latent controlling personality that was now being directed towards his wife. Whatever the cause, he became obsessed with the idea that the refrigerator door, when opened, allowed all the cold air to escape triggering a new compressor cycle if it remained open too long.
At first he simply mentioned this fact to his wife, expecting that she would take note and cease her habit of opening the door to take the milk out of the fridge, pour some into her coffee, take her sweet time to put it back in the fridge and only then close the door. Or stand in front of the fridge, door wide open for minutes on end, surveying the contents while deciding what to cook for dinner. At that point in their marriage he should have known that his expectation was unrealistic. A one-time conversation was not sufficient, so he began to repeatedly remind her of the importance of minimizing the escape of refrigerated air. That didn’t work either.
It was only when he closed the door himself or called out “Door!” from his reading chair nearby that there was a glimmer of change. But the change was inconsistent and who knew how often her behavior persisted when he wasn’t around?
One Saturday, he came home from Home Depot with a surveillance camera and a door switch connected to a timer with an internet connection that sent a message to his phone whenever the door remained open for more than ten seconds. He spent all day Sunday installing it.
Well into his next day while at work, there were no alarms from the timer. He remotely turned on the remote camera and saw no activity then or for the rest of the day. He arrived home that evening to find a letter attached to a magnet on the refrigerator door: “I am at my mother’s. I’m not coming back. I wish you and your fridge a long, happy life together.”