Everyone knew my wife, Isla Monroe, was born allergic to men, even to me. On our wedding day, when I nervously leaned in to kiss the corner of her lips, she kicked me off the bed.
Her face went pale, and she started throwing up nonstop. That same night, she moved into the study.
We had been married for five years, yet we had never shared a bed. I was treated like something contagious.
Whenever we went out, I had to stay at least two meters away from her. Even at home, I wore raincoats and gloves, afraid that touching her might cause harm.
One day, while I was helping a deaf-mute client go bungee jumping, Isla slipped near the cliff and almost fell. Without thinking, I reached out to grab her. But she raised her hand and pushed me off the edge instead.
I clung to the cliff, my hands shaking as I looked up at her. She turned away, wrapped her arms around the terrified man beside her, and said softly, “Don’t be scared, I’m here.”
So that was it, when she was with the one she truly loved, she could face anything. And at that moment, I decided to give them what they wanted.
——
The cold wind roared across the cliff as the client clung to my hand in panic, his grip slipping little by little. I could feel his strength fading fast.
Desperate, I looked up at Isla and shouted, my voice breaking, “Isla, help me! The client can’t hold on much longer!”
She slowly released the man in her arms and looked down at me. Her gaze dropped to my bleeding arm and trembling fingers. Then, with a faint frown, she said in a calm, cold voice, “There’s water below. From this height, you won’t die. Wait for the rescue team.”
Those were the last words I heard before I fell.
The client, too weak to keep holding on, finally lost his grip. The freezing lake hit me hard, stealing the air from my lungs as everything went dark.
The dirty water filled my chest and stomach, burning as I choked, but none of it hurt as much as her words echoing in my head.
When I woke up, the doctor told me I had swallowed too much water and developed a serious lung infection that needed quick treatment. But the person who came to sign the consent papers wasn’t Isla; it was her assistant.
He looked at me, his face blank, and said in a cold tone, “Sir, do you know your reckless behavior almost made President Monroe miss her international meeting tonight?”
In that moment, it felt like I had fallen into the frozen lake all over again. My heart turned completely cold.
Three days after I was hospitalized, Isla finally showed up, as if she were doing me a favor. She sat cross-legged on the chair, calm and distant, her first words carrying blame.
“Why weren’t you wearing gloves that day? You know I’m allergic to men. Good intentions don’t matter if they cause trouble; that’s just foolish.”
The bedsheet in my hands wrinkled as I gripped it tightly. Swallowing the bitterness in my throat, I asked softly, “Then why did you hug that interpreter? Weren’t you worried about your allergy?”
Her face froze for a moment. For the first time, her usually calm eyes flickered with hesitation.
“He was terrified then, and I forgot.”
“The young man has a weak stomach and can’t stand the cold. He was helping me with work, I couldn’t let him fall, too.”
A bitter laugh rose in my chest.
I couldn’t help but think back to our second year of marriage, when I was burning with a severe gastric fever, barely conscious.
The housekeeper had told Isla to cool me down with a wet towel. But when my finger accidentally brushed against hers, she dumped the entire basin of cold water over me.
Her first reaction wasn’t to worry; she ran straight to the bathroom, washed her hands again and again, and threw up.
“But Isla,” I finally said, unable to hold it in any longer, “you knew I couldn’t swim. Weren’t you scared I’d drown?”
“I calculated it,” she answered calmly. “The rescue team at the base would be there in ten minutes. You’d suffer a little, but you wouldn’t die.”
“Landon Raye, I told you from the start about my condition. You’re the one who insisted on marrying me. So what are you complaining about now?”
Her eyes carried nothing but annoyance, as if I were the one causing trouble. And the truth was, maybe she was right. I had chosen this for myself.
