The Man She Wouldn’t Touch Is Never Coming Back Chapter 01

Kian Voss was the last virgin in his social circle.

That line had made the rounds in high society for six years.

Because after three years of marriage to Iris Hale, the untouchable queen of the legal world, he was still untouched.

Iris had a pathological aversion to contact, severe to the point of absurdity.

They had dated for three years, then married for three, and she refused all physical closeness. No hugs, no kisses, and certainly no intimacy.

He had once refused to accept it. He had tried to draw her close a thousand times, and failed a thousand times.

He had believed this was simply who Iris was: cool, poised, untarnished by the world.

But today, he finally learned the truth.

The untouchable idol could step down from her pedestal, and her aversion to touch could make exceptions.

…

Inside the upscale restaurant, the fingers wrapped around Kian’s glass trembled faintly.

Through the plate glass window, he saw it clearly. Iris knelt on one knee, gently working the swelling ankle of the man across from her.

Her slender fingers curled around that pale ankle, her touch tender as if she held something irreplaceable. There was no trace of revulsion or discomfort on her face.

Could this truly be the same Iris who would sanitize her hands three times over if they accidentally brushed his?

Kian’s shaking hand snapped a photo, and he sent it to Elowen, Iris’s closest friend. [Who is he?]

Elowen replied quickly. [How do you know about Silas Moore?]

Silas Moore…

Kian stared hard at the name on the screen. [So, who is he?]

Elowen hesitated for a long moment before she finally confessed. [He was Iris’s first love.]

[She gave up her family’s inheritance to become a lawyer for him. She raced cars for him, betting her life, and nearly died from the crash. She spent two years trapped in despair after they broke up before she pulled herself back together…]

Kian absorbed the words in silence, his mind going completely blank.

Elowen tried to soothe him. [That’s all in the past. She married you now. She must love you.]

Must she?

Kian laughed until tears spilled.

He remembered the day he first saw Iris at Northfield University, back in their sophomore year. She stood at the entrance of the law building, her white dress lifting in the wind, cold and ethereal like a brushstroke on ink paper.

He was a Voss, proud and unrestrained, granted everything he had ever wanted since childhood. When he walked over to ask for her contact information and was turned down, he understood for the first time that there were things in this world he could not possess.

So he began two years of relentless pursuit.

He showed up each morning with breakfast, and she tossed it straight into a waste bin.

He prepared thoughtful gifts, and she passed them to stray dogs on the sidewalk without a single glance.

Even the fabric of his sleeve that she brushed against would be stripped off and discarded on the spot.

Yet he only grew more determined, unwilling to back down.

Then one rainy night, soaked to the bone outside the library doors, something unprecedented happened. Iris held out an umbrella to him.

“Give it a try,” she said, her voice cold as frost.

He’d thought he’d won.

After all, she’d finally become his girlfriend, and later, his wife.

But three years of dating, three years of marriage, and she still washed her hands three times with sanitizer after accidentally brushing his skin.

When he reached to embrace her, she stepped away. When he leaned in to kiss her, she turned her head. On their wedding night, she slept in the study.

Everyone said, “That is just how Iris is. She has this severe aversion to touch.”

Slowly, Kian had accepted that explanation. She treated everyone this way, didn’t she?

Yet today, he watched her kneel to tend to another man’s ankle, her gaze soft beyond belief.

Today he understood, with brutal clarity, that there was someone who stood as the exception buried deep in her heart.

How ridiculous it all was.

Kian Voss had the looks, the lineage. Women lined up for miles, eager to marry him.

And for eight years, he had humbled himself for a woman who did not love him.

If she would not let him touch her, there were plenty of others who would.

If she did not love him, there were plenty of others who would.

He would file for divorce. He would set her free to be with the one that got away.

Once his resolve settled, Kian wiped his tears, rose, and strode quickly out of the restaurant.

He moved too fast, and collided with Silas Moore as the man prepared to leave.

The second their eyes met, the overhead storefront sign loosened, crashing down toward them.

On instinct, Kian shoved Silas aside. The heavy slab struck his back, and blood bloomed instantly across his shirt.

Agony buckled him to the ground. Through blurred vision, he watched Iris sprint from the parking lot.

She caught Silas first, steadying him and checking his injuries with urgent care, uncaring that her couture gown was smudged with dust.

Only after confirming Silas was unharmed did she spot Kian crumpled in a pool of his own blood.

“What are you doing here?” Iris pulled Silas behind her, her gaze sharp and icy. “I came to meet a friend. Have you been following me?”

Pain robbed Kian of speech, and the ache in his chest burned far worse than his wound.

“No, it was the sign,” Silas finally regained his wits and spoke. “This man pushed me out of the way. He saved me.”

Iris froze, then turned to look at Kian.

“Do you two know each other?” Silas asked cautiously.

Kian could not speak. He could only watch the shifting expressions cross Iris’s face.

“Yes,” Iris said flatly, her eyes sweeping over Kian’s pale face. “He is an admirer of mine. He has pursued me for a very long time.”

The words drove a blade straight through Kian’s heart.

He laughed then, tears mixing with the blood sliding down his skin.

Eight years of devotion, and to her, he was merely an admirer?

Silas saw the blood spreading across the floor and spoke with concern.”Iris, you should take him to the hospital. His injuries are serious.”

Iris stayed rooted where she stood, her tone cool.”He is covered in blood. It is filthy.”

“I cannot touch him, not with my aversion.”

“Just call an ambulance.”

Kian lay on the cold pavement, blood seeping from his forehead, draining the color from his face.

He listened to Iris’s words, and an invisible hand squeezed his heart tight, choking him.

The wail of ambulance sirens drew closer.

Paramedics rushed over and prepared to lift Kian onto the stretcher, when Silas swayed suddenly, his face draining of all color.”Iris, I—”

His vision darkened, and he collapsed.

“Silas!” Iris darted forward and caught him securely.

Her usual frigid tone cracked with panic for the first time. She snapped her head toward the paramedics, her voice cutting.”Set him down. Take Silas first.”

A nurse hesitated.

“But Mr. Voss has lost a great deal of blood. He is slipping out of consciousness. Waiting for a second ambulance could cost him his life…”

“I called this ambulance,” Iris cut her off sharply, settling Silas carefully onto the stretcher. Her tone brooked no argument. “I decide who rides it.”

She climbed aboard without another glance at Kian, and the ambulance pulled away.

Kian stared after the vanishing lights, his heart numb with agony, before darkness swallowed him.

…

When Kian woke, harsh white light stung his eyes, and he squinted.

“You’re awake at last,” the nurse exhaled in relief. “A stranger brought you in. You should notify family to stay with you.”

Kian shook his head weakly.”There is no need. I’m single.”

The nurse looked surprised.”Your records state you’ve been married for three years, with no children.”

“The divorce will be finalized soon.” His voice was soft, yet unyielding.

The hospital door swung open as he finished speaking.

“Divorce?” Iris stepped inside, her face cold. “Who is filing for divorce?”