Chapter 147
“No, I just got into bed. Thought I’d read for a bit,” Ivy replied.
As soon as she spoke, she realized how gentle her voice sounded—especially in the stillness of night, it almost felt like she was whispering to a lover.
But they weren’t lovers. In fact, they weren’t anything at all.
Friends? Not really.
Family? She’d already cut ties with the Windsors.
Doctor and patient—that was probably the closest description.
Yet what kind of doctor calls their patient so late at night?
Something about the situation felt off, but Ivy couldn’t quite put her finger on it. If she was just overthinking things, how awkward would that be?
“I’m really sorry about Micah bothering you today,” Jamison said. “I gave him an earful afterward, and I spoke to his parents. Told them to keep him in line.”
“Mm.” Ivy guessed this was the real reason for his call. It actually made her feel a little calmer. “His forehead—he’s not badly hurt, is he?”
“It’s nothing, just a scratch. He’ll be fine in a few days,” Jamison replied easily, then asked, “But what about you? Things were a mess earlier, I didn’t get the chance to ask.”
“I’m alright. Just a little disgusted, honestly,” Ivy answered truthfully.
She didn’t dare imagine what would have happened if Micah had actually kissed her. The thought of it made her stomach turn. He’d already kissed Emma—slept with her, even—and now he wanted to come and hug and kiss her? The very idea made her recoil.
Jamison laughed at her bluntness, then asked, curious, “Didn’t you two date for a while? What changed?”
Ivy rolled her eyes. “He wasn’t always like this.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed Micah’s changed a lot over the last couple of years. Bad influences, maybe.”
And bad company could rub off on you. That’s why, as the old saying went, “Marry a good man, find a good wife”—the wrong partner could ruin not just you, but your whole family for generations.
Ivy considered his words. “So… you don’t approve of Micah and Emma being together?”
“No, I don’t. But it’s none of my business, so I stay out of it.”
Ivy remembered something else, her tone puzzled. “If that’s the case, why were you at their engagement party?”
Jamison explained, “Micah’s parents didn’t approve either, but he insisted. They both came up with excuses to skip the party, so Micah begged me to show up—he didn’t want to lose face.”
Ivy raised her brows in surprise, then couldn’t help but laugh. “So that’s what it was. I did wonder…”
It made sense. Jamison wasn’t the type to show up at parties just for the fun of it. And if even Micah’s parents hadn’t attended, there was no reason his uncle would’ve gone—unless he’d been strong-armed into it.
Thinking about it, even if she’d never come back, Emma’s “happily ever after” with the rich and powerful was always going to be a little hollow.
Some people’s fate was sealed the moment they were born.
“Now that Micah knows you’re not sick, his attitude’s changed. I have a feeling… he might keep bothering you. If you don’t want to deal with him, let me know—I’ll set him straight.”
Ivy blinked in realization. “That’s why you called tonight?”
“Yeah.”
Ivy felt a strange restlessness stir inside her.
Hadn’t he just said Micah’s business wasn’t his concern?
So why did it matter to him if Micah kept pestering her?
Why was he getting involved now?
She wanted to ask, but something deep down told her not to. As if asking would be admitting to something she didn’t want to face.
Even though she stayed silent, the pause between them made Jamison realize how his words might have sounded.
He was just about to explain when Ivy broke the silence first. “Um… are you working tomorrow? I have a follow-up at the hospital, so I can bring your jacket.”
A few days ago, when she’d been feeling sick, Jamison had dropped by and tossed his suit jacket on the end of her bed. After her acupuncture session, she’d pulled the blanket over herself, accidentally covering the jacket, so when Jamison left, he’d forgotten it. Ivy only noticed the next morning and texted him about it. He told her to just hold onto it until they saw each other again.
Now was as good a time as any, but she wanted to make sure he wasn’t off duty.
“I’ll be at the hospital tomorrow,” he said.
“Okay, I’ll see you then.”
“Get some rest. Goodnight.”
After hanging up, Ivy stared at her phone, lost in thought.
She got out of bed and glanced at the tailored men’s jacket hanging in her closet.
It was strange, really. Not long ago, she and Jamison had been at each other’s throats—every meeting ended in sarcasm or barely veiled jabs.
Now, his jacket was hanging in her closet.
The feeling was… oddly intimate.
Worried she’d forget it in the morning, Ivy took the jacket down and folded it carefully.
As her fingers brushed the expensive, perfectly cut fabric—so sleek and commanding, just like the man himself—she felt something she couldn’t quite name.
She’d dated before, but she and Micah had never been that close. She’d never really taken care of him, never done his laundry or folded his clothes.
This was the first time she’d ever folded a man’s jacket.
The black fabric was rich and smooth, the stitching impeccable—luxurious, dignified, touchable. The kind of thing that gave off an air of superiority, just like its owner.
As she slipped the jacket into a garment bag, Ivy caught herself. What was she doing? Why was she getting sentimental over a man’s jacket?
Jamison might have a sharp tongue, but behind the frosty exterior he was warm, capable, and came from a distinguished background. Anyone would say he was extraordinary—but he still wasn’t her type.