CHAPTER 76: CHAPTER 76: YOUR WIFE IS PREGNANT, SHE CAN’T HAVE THE ANTIPYRETIC INJECTION

Jenson’s eyes darkened. "Explain yourself."

"I just received a call from the Fifth Young Master. Your wife has a high fever and was taken to the hospital."

Before Timothy Cohen could finish, Jenson was already striding away.

Timothy Cohen hurriedly followed. Crystal Sutton hadn’t even processed what was happening before Jenson was already in the elevator.

She rushed over in a panic but missed the elevator.

She stamped her foot in frustration. Luckily, the waiter she had contacted earlier sent her the photos just then.

Crystal Sutton’s expression softened as she looked at the photos. She immediately forwarded them to Zinnia Lawrence.

Winston Forrest found Zinnia Lawrence’s current address after asking Yara Fairchild.

He hurried over, but after knocking for a long time with no response, he had to ask Yara Fairchild for the passcode to get inside.

Inside the apartment, Zinnia was indeed lost in a feverish daze.

Winston carried her to his car, wrapping an ice pack in a towel to cool her down on the way. She only regained consciousness as they neared the hospital.

When Jenson Forrest arrived at the hospital, Zinnia had just been settled into a ward.

The man strode to the door and was about to pull it open when he saw something through the small window: Winston was helping Zinnia drink water.

Winston’s arm was around her shoulders, and he held the cup carefully.

Zinnia leaned contentedly against his arm, tilting her head back slightly to drink. She looked so compliant.

The ward was a double room, and an old lady in the neighboring bed was watching them with a cheerful smile.

"My dear, your husband is so handsome and considerate."

Jenson’s handsome face turned cold. He couldn’t bear to watch or listen any longer and shoved the door open.

He seemed to bring a gust of cold wind with him. His powerful presence instantly captured the attention of everyone in the room.

Zinnia glanced at him, her brow furrowed, then she calmly looked away.

"Third Brother," Winston greeted him.

Before he could say more, Jenson walked over, took the cup from his hand, and said, "I’ll take care of her. Thanks for your help tonight. It’s late; you should go home."

Winston saw his cold expression and hesitated, a flicker of worry on his face.

Zinnia was obviously separated from Third Brother, and she still had a high fever. With the atmosphere being so tense, of course Winston was concerned.

But Jenson’s eyes grew even colder. "You’re not leaving?"

"Alright, then," Winston nodded.

But just as he took a step, Zinnia leaned over and tugged at the corner of his shirt.

"Third Brother has been drinking. He should go back and rest. Once I’m done with this IV, Winston can take me home. There’s no need to trouble him."

Zinnia looked at Jenson with a cold expression. The lingering smell of alcohol on him made her think of the photo she had seen before passing out—the decadent, intimate scene—and she was filled with revulsion.

"Zinnia, I am your husband!" Jenson’s expression tightened, his gaze locking onto the small hand clutching Winston’s shirt.

He remembered how Zinnia would get clingy when she was sick as a child. The normally well-behaved little girl would rely on him completely, tugging at his clothes just like this, refusing to let him leave and insisting that he be the one to take care of her and stay by her side.

Jenson’s gaze felt sharp enough to slice her hand away.

Zinnia’s face paled, but she didn’t let go. "We’ve already signed the divorce agreement," she said coldly. "So that doesn’t count anymore."

"Zinnia!" Jenson’s face turned ashen.

Winston was stunned, his expression a mixture of surprise and concern. "A divorce agreement? Third Brother, you’re divorcing Zinnia?"

Jenson was in no mood to answer Winston’s questions. He ordered in a low voice, "Timothy, please escort the Fifth Young Master out."

Timothy Cohen stepped forward and advised softly, "Fifth Young Master, the President and Mrs. Forrest are just having a spat. Now that she’s sick, if the President takes care of her, it might help them patch things up. It’s best if you don’t get involved."

Winston frowned but didn’t insist. He turned to Zinnia. "Zinnia, you and Third Brother should talk things out."

"Still not letting go?" Jenson stared at Zinnia, his tone mocking.

Zinnia felt a flush of embarrassment, but after what Winston had said, she had no choice but to release her grip.

Once Winston left, Zinnia lay back down and turned away from Jenson, her entire posture radiating rejection.

Jenson’s expression darkened further. The prying, gossipy stare from the old lady in the next bed made him inexplicably irritable.

He raised a hand and sharply pulled the curtain shut between the two beds.

The old lady muttered, "What a foul temper. What’s the use of being handsome? No wonder his wife wants a divorce. He’s nothing compared to that young man from before."

The chill emanating from Jenson intensified, but she was just a sick old woman. He wouldn’t stoop to arguing with her.

When Timothy returned, Jenson commanded, "Arrange for a VIP ward."

Before Timothy could move, Zinnia propped herself up slightly. "I don’t need it. I’m only here for one night. I’ll be discharged tomorrow."

It’s nothing serious. The IV will bring the fever down, and I’ll most likely be fine by tomorrow. Winston isn’t one for details, but when he went to get my test results, I managed to tell the doctor to be careful with the medication because I’m pregnant. Jenson, however, is observant and not easily fooled. I’m worried he’ll transfer me to another ward, bring in another doctor, and my secret will be exposed.

"You can’t rest properly here," Jenson disagreed, glancing at Timothy again.

Zinnia grew agitated. "Are you worried I can’t rest, or are you just disgusted by this place? If you can’t stand it, then you should leave! I don’t need anyone to take care of me. I can manage on my own!"

She was clearly emotional. Timothy looked at Jenson. "President?"

"You may go."

So, he was giving in to Zinnia and not changing the ward, Timothy thought. Only Mrs. Forrest would dare to defy the President like this and make him compromise so easily. The President clearly cares for her, so why can’t they ever seem to reconcile?

After Timothy left, Jenson bent down to feel Zinnia’s forehead. She tried to turn away, but his large hand settled dominantly on her skin.

"Burning up like this, and you think you can manage? Stop pretending to be strong."

As his large hand rested on her forehead, a wave of vulnerability washed over her. An instinctual part of her craved that small bit of gentleness, and her heart gave a pathetic little flutter.

But then she heard him continue, "You get sick and don’t call me. Are you trying to burn your brain to a crisp so you can cling to me for the rest of your life?"

She had a fever, and instead of calling him, she called Winston. And that last time, with the Duan incident—such a huge mess—she contacted Winston for that, too, hiding it all from him completely.

A flicker of irritation crossed Jenson’s eyes as his emotions churned within him.

The brief warmth Zinnia had felt vanished at his sarcastic words.

She raised her hand to push his away. "If I burned my brain to a crisp, I’d hang myself before I’d ever be a burden to you."

Jenson scoffed. "I’ve never heard of an idiot who knew how to hang themselves. Relying on me is a much more plausible plan."

Zinnia choked, feeling that if the fever didn’t kill her, his infuriating words would.

Just then, a nurse came in to set up her IV drip. As Zinnia cooperated, the nurse explained, "I didn’t add a fever reducer to the drip. A family member should focus on physical cooling and monitor her temperature. If it doesn’t drop within an hour, call for a nurse immediately."

Jenson narrowed his eyes at the nurse. "Why no fever reducer?"

Of course, it was because she was pregnant. They had to avoid fever-reducing medication if at all possible, Zinnia thought, her heart skipping a beat. She stared at the nurse, her anxiety skyrocketing.

The nurse gave Jenson a puzzled look. This man is handsome, but how can he be so clueless? Doesn’t he know you can’t just give a pregnant woman a shot for a fever?

"Your wife..."