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Infidelity is one of my greatest fears. According to Oprah, "what you focus on expands." My interpretation: If I keep obsessing about something, then it is bound to happen. So instead, I attempt to ruminate on positive things-like cute puppies, mint chocolate chip ice cream and winning the lottery.

But when Dorian entered my young marriage of roughly five months, I was petrified. No matter how hard I tried to avert my attention elsewhere, I kept thinking: "This is it. She's the one who will break us."

Dorian was intense, unpredictable and originated in the Bahamas. This made her appealing and sexy in a tropical sort of way, and my husband paid more attention to her over a two-week period than he had to me during our two-year courtship. He followed her every move-morning, noon and night. And, although I hate to throw him under the bus entirely, I'm fairly certain he secretly watched her on a webcam feed when he was in the bathroom.

He acted like this was all perfectly normal behavior.

I acted as though it was the end of our marriage.

"Why are you so preoccupied with Dorian?" I asked one morning over coffee.

Part of me didn't want to know the answer, because I was afraid of what he might say. Then I would focus on his answer, and according to Oprah's powerful omniscience, the problem would grow even more. Then I'd be totally screwed.

"Why wouldn't I be preoccupied with Dorian?

"You can't answer a valid question with a rhetorical one," I said, visibly annoyed.

He shook his head and chuckled. This was part of his charm: never fully giving me the satisfaction of what I wanted to hear; but insinuating that I was adorable for being dramatic and crazy.

"I'm serious. You've been talking about her non-stop for a week. I'm sick of it! Just because she's on television and is extremely powerful doesn't mean she's all that."

"You're right," he said.

A wave of relief shot through me. He was validating me, and I really needed that right now.

But then he kept going.

"I have been talking about Dorian non-stop for a week. I love it. I love the suspense she brings to my life. The knowledge she gives me. And I intend on following her every move until her winds die down and she disappears over the ocean."

Now he was being dramatic and crazy. I shook my head and let out a chuckle, wanting to give him a taste of his own medicine.

"You people," I said. "You're all alike. You cling to the weather report like it's the second coming of Christ. You want to know what the weather's like? GO OUTSIDE. It's the only weather that matters."

As the words tumbled out of my mouth I wanted desperately to take them back. I knew it wasn't true. I knew that to millions of people, hurricane Dorian mattered; that weather in other locations mattered; and that tracking storms and understanding weather patterns brought my husband joy and a small thrill. Why was I threatened? Just because it wasn't what I chose to focus on, didn't mean he wasn't allowed.

"I would go outside," he said. "But it's raining. Part of the Dorian effect, you know?"

I didn't know. Perhaps I should pay more attention-then I could grow in areas that mattered to him.

-Rebekah Iliff

Rebekah Iliff is a business and humor writer based in Nashville, Tennessee. Her work has appeared in Inc, Entrepreneur, Forbes, The Satirist, Little Old Lady Comedy, HuffPost Comedy, and the Weekly Humorist. For more information visit: www.rebekahiliiff.com