Allergic to Me

When my husband, Julian Carver, came out after changing, he casually tossed the clothes I had just touched into the trash.

I tried to stop him. "That was my birthday present to you. You've only worn it once."

Julian answered flatly, "You touched it. No matter how many times it's washed, your scent will still be there. I don't want it anymore."

Noticing how crushed I looked, Julian softened his tone. "Liv, you know I can't touch women. You just got pregnant. Don't upset yourself. It isn't good for the baby."

As though he were comforting me, he pulled a pair of plush winter gloves over his medical gloves and gently rested his hand on my head, rubbing my hair like he was granting me a favor.

That small gesture only made me fall apart even more.

I jerked away, my throat burning. "Julian, am I filthy to you?"

Julian froze, then frowned. "Olivia, I try to be understanding about how hard the pregnancy has been. You need to understand how hard I work too. Stop making a scene over nothing."

Julian was the CEO of a publicly traded company. He was always busy. Yesterday, he had even arrived two hours late while I was undergoing the embryo-transfer procedure, claiming he had been trapped in a meeting.

But after watching that video, I finally knew what he had really been busy doing. He had been busy in another woman's bed.

I let out a cold laugh. "Julian, what were you doing while I was in surgery yesterday?"

Guilt flashed across his face. He was about to answer when a bright female voice came from the doorway. It belonged to Tessa Brooks, Julian's childhood friend of more than a decade.

"Julian, how is Liv feeling?"

Tessa pushed the door open carrying two enormous fruit baskets. Her makeup was flawless, and her smile was radiant.

She walked straight to Julian and naturally pressed her slightly damp palm to his forehead.

"Look at you, working nonstop. You're going to run yourself into the ground."

Julian did not recoil. Instead, he lowered his head so she could touch him more easily. The skin on his forehead remained perfectly smooth, without the slightest redness.

My stomach dropped as the video replayed in my mind. Was Julian not allergic to other women at all? Was he only allergic to me?

Or was the woman in the video standing right in front of me?

When Tessa saw me staring, she smiled. "Liv, don't blame Julian. I hurt my hand yesterday, so I asked him to drive me to the hospital. That's why he was delayed. The moment I heard you had a procedure too, I came over to apologize. You're not mad at me, are you?"

She opened her palm. Thick gauze covered her hand, and the small stain of blood in the center made my eyes ache.

Those were the same hands I had watched all over Julian's body in the video, guiding him through one intimate position after another.

She had injured that hand only because the two of them had slammed it against the bedframe while they were lost in each other.