The realization hit Jamison like a bolt of lightning. He shot back instantly, “Just say yes.”

Dale Sullivan hesitated. “Isn’t lying kind of… bad? What if she ever meets you in person–”

“Just do as I said,” Jamison cut in again, his tone brooking no argument.

“…Fine.”

He had no choice. Dale went along with the plan.

In the group chat:

Dale: Yep, Dr. Ludwig is forty.

Ivy stared at the message, doing the math without thinking – forty minus twenty–four – and the number sent a jolt through her system, snapping her wide awake.

She still couldn’t wrap her head around Dr. Handsome being forty.

But then again, to make a real name for yourself in medicine, you had to put in the years, build your experience, climb the ranks. Making it big by forty was actually pretty impressive.

Not everyone had Jamison’s kind of head start, with a family fortune paving a smooth road for him.

Yet the moment she pictured Dr. Handsome as a forty–year–old, all her excitement fizzled out. The urge to chat just vanished.

Had she really been crushing on a guy old enough to be her… uncle? The thought made her shudder.

Yikes.

In the group chat:

Jay: So does that make Dr. Handsome the oldest one among us?

Coach Murphy: Guess he’s our big brother, huh.

Bob: Why don’t we all share our ages? See who’s oldest and who’s the baby of the group.

Jay: [LOL]

Dale: Pass. Nobody wants to be called “the baby.” [Don’t you dare]

Bob: Jeez, it’s just a figure of speech.

Dale: No need. Knowing Dr. Handsome is the oldest is good enough for me.

Dale was desperately trying to avoid more questions – he’d already lied, and the thought of getting caught made him sweat.

Ivy watched their banter quietly, saying nothing.

She was still reeling from the gut punch of realizing Dr. Handsome was just… another middle–aged guy.

Dr. Handsome: @Mrs.Smith So now that you know I’m forty, you’re not talking to me anymore?

Mrs. Smith: Of course not. Everyone knows forty is when men hit their prime.

It was something Jamison had said to her in a private chat – she just threw it back at him.

Dr. Handsome: Pretty sure I heard a hint of sarcasm in that.

Mrs. Smith: Wouldn’t dare.

Dale immediately messaged Dr. Handsome privately: See? You two are totally flirting!

Jamison ignored him.

Back in the group, Mrs. Smith sent another message: It’s getting late. Beauty sleep calls. Goodnight, everyone.

Jamison saw her abrupt change in tone and couldn’t help but brood.

Forty was really that bad?

Bad enough to kill a conversation in its tracks, to make someone recoil with disgust?

He was tempted to call her right then and there, to ask Ivy what the hell was so wrong with being forty.

He could guarantee that when he hit forty, he’d still be in top shape, full of energy, not a bit less than some twenty–year–old kid.

The more Jamison thought about it, the more offended he felt. Fuming, he picked up his phone and scrolled through his recent calls until he found her number.

Meanwhile, Ivy genuinely felt a little wounded.

If she’d known that reconnecting online would end like this, she’d have rather cut things off completely, kept her little daydreams intact.

Now all her illusions were gone. The so–called dream guy was nothing more than a middle–aged man with, frankly, some icky habits. The very thought made her skin crawl.

Trying to shake it off, she reached for her textbook, only for her phone to start ringing.

She glanced at the caller ID, her brows knitting together.

She hadn’t saved the number, but she recognized it now.

Jamison, calling her in the middle of the night – what was that supposed to mean?

Ivy hesitated for a few seconds before finally answering.

“Hello…?”

“It’s me. Jamison.” His voice was cool and clipped.

“I know.”

Her words seemed to drop like a stone. Silence stretched between them, making her even more uneasy. “Did you need something?”

Jamison cleared his throat, gripping the phone awkwardly, suddenly regretting his impulsive decision. Hearing Ivy’s voice had jolted him back to his senses.