I'm the Only Man She's Allergic To

My wife, Jenna Cruise, stepped out of the bathroom after changing. She tossed the designer dress I had just touched into the trash can.

I tried to stop her. "I gave you that for your birthday. You've only worn it once."

Jenna said coolly, "But you just touched the dress. No matter how many times I wash it, it'll still smell like you. I don't want it anymore."

She noticed how upset I was, so she softened her tone. "Tristan, you know I can't have physical contact with any man. You're injured, so you need to rest. Don't get yourself all worked up."

As if trying to comfort me, she put on another pair of plush gloves over her medical-grade ones and gently rested her hand on my head. She patted the back of my hand, as if she were doing me a favor.

But what she did pushed me over the edge.

I yanked my hand away from her, bile rising in my throat. "Jenna, am I really that disgusting to you?"

Jenna froze, then her brows furrowed slightly. "Tristan, I know I'm the reason you got injured, but you have to understand that I'm bending my own rules just to have your baby. Could you stop making a big deal out of this?"

Jenna was the CEO of a publicly listed company, so she was always swamped with work. Even when I was about to undergo surgery yesterday, she showed up late, claiming that she had a meeting.

But after watching the video, I finally understood that she hadn't been busy with work—she was sleeping with another guy.

And she was carrying our baby too. How could she do that to me?

I sneered. "Jenna, where were you while I was in surgery yesterday?"

A flicker of guilt crossed her face. Just as she was about to explain herself, a clear, youthful voice rang out from the door.

It was Jenna's childhood friend of more than ten years, Finn Jebb.

"Jenna, how's Tristan doing?"

Finn opened the door and stepped into the room, carrying two large fruit baskets. He looked well put-together in his hoodie and sneakers.

He went straight to Jenna and instinctively pressed his slightly sweaty palm against her forehead.

"Look at you. Why are you pushing yourself so hard? Don't wear yourself out! Even if you won't look out for yourself, at least think about the baby!"

Jenna didn't pull away. Instead, she lowered her head slightly, as if welcoming his gesture. Her forehead remained perfectly smooth, without a single red mark in sight.

My eyes widened as the video I had watched earlier flashed through my mind. Was Jenna not allergic to other men? Or was it just me?

Or was Finn the man in the video?

Seeing me frozen, Finn flashed me a smile. "Tristan, don't hold it against Jenna. I hurt my hand yesterday and couldn't drive at all, so she had to take me to the hospital.

"That's why she was late yesterday. I know you were in surgery yesterday too, so here I am to make it up to you. You're not upset with me, right?"

Finn held out his palm, wrapped in thick layers of gauze. I could see a faint smear of blood on it.

Those were the same hands I had seen all over Jenna in the video, doing all sorts of things in bed.

He had injured his hand yesterday too. The two of them were so caught up in the throes of passion that he had accidentally hit his hand against the edge of the bed.