Chapter 157

Otherwise, knowing how much Ivy disliked Dr. Handsome, if she ever found out that Jamison was actually Dr. Handsome, she’d hang up on him in a second and cut him out of her life for good.

“Well, I wouldn’t say I really know him. A while back, I broke out in a rash and reached out online for help—a doctor there recommended Professor Brown at St. Aurelia’s Mercy Hospital. I went to see Professor Brown for my skin condition, and honestly, his treatment worked wonders. And now, what a coincidence, you’re recommending Professor Brown to me too…”

Ivy couldn’t help but marvel at how small the world felt.

Somehow, Dr. Handsome and Jamison seemed to have access to the exact same resources.

Jamison smiled. “You asked for advice online? Weren’t you worried you’d run into some quack trying to scam you?”

He was willing to mock himself if it helped obscure his other identity.

“It wasn’t some random doctor on a forum. He’s an online friend of mine—he just happens to be a doctor.”

Jamison looked more surprised. “You chat with people you meet online?”

Ivy pressed her lips together, refusing to answer.

Shifting gears, Jamison got back to the point. “Professor Brown is the best in the field. I really think you should see him for a proper checkup.”

The last time Ivy had gone to St. Aurelia’s Mercy to see Professor Brown, Jamison had been involved in the whole process—just from the background.

He knew Professor Brown had examined Ivy and was aware of her health issues.

At the time, Professor Brown had advised her to come back for follow-ups, especially for her chronic pain.

So now, all Jamison could do was encourage her, hoping she wouldn’t give up on treatment.

Ivy sat there, phone in hand, lost in thought. She remembered Professor Brown’s advice.

“Alright. Once I finish up with work, I’ll check Professor Brown’s schedule.” In the end, she decided to take Jamison’s advice.

After all, it was her own body. She couldn’t stand the thought of going through that kind of monthly agony forever.

“Good. If you have any trouble getting an appointment, just let me know, I can pull some strings,” Jamison said, sounding more considerate than ever.

Ivy couldn’t take any more of his kindness. She dodged, “Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it. I’m busy now, gotta go.”

“Okay. Take care.”

As soon as she set her phone down, Ivy felt a strange sense of unease, as if something was about to surface.

Dr. Handsome and Jamison…

No, impossible.

Dr. Handsome was forty; Jamison was barely thirty, just five years older than Micah.

Dr. Handsome was always dabbling in the stock market—he lost money every year. Jamison, on the other hand, was a capital powerhouse; his wealth was obviously managed by a team of professionals.

Plus, during all those online chats, Dale would always mention Dr. Handsome being on call or off duty, and the timing never matched up with Jamison’s schedule.

Take yesterday, for example. Dale said Dr. Handsome was off work.

But Jamison was clearly at the hospital yesterday.

Although, he was there with his child and partner… which didn’t technically count as work, right? But the night before, when she’d asked Jamison if he was working the next day, he’d said yes.

Maybe he’d just used work as an excuse to run errands during office hours.

Ivy replayed every little detail in her mind and finally realized she was overthinking things.

There was no way they could be the same person—unless he had some kind of split personality. She shook her head, trying to clear away the mess of thoughts, and stepped out of the car, heading into the gallery.

A young man with long hair approached, polite and attentive. “Hello, is there a particular style of painting you’re interested in? I’d be happy to show you around.”

Ivy gave a soft smile. “Sawyer, it’s me—Jasmine. I emailed you last night.”

“Jasmine?” The man, exuding a creative aura, stared at her in surprise, looking her up and down. “You’ve been gone for three years, and you’ve changed so much!”

She offered a self-deprecating shrug. “Yeah, I got some work done.”

“Really? You were already a vision before—don’t ever let the world get you down.”

Ivy smiled and let the compliment pass without comment.

After a bit of small talk, she took out her painting.

The moment Sawyer laid eyes on her work, he was visibly moved.

Once the painting was framed and hung on the wall, the gallery lights shining down, Sawyer stood before it, transfixed, deep in thought.

After a long silence, he finally turned to Ivy, his gaze filled with a sorrowful empathy. “Miss Jasmine, what happened to you over these past three years?”