"I, uh…" Ivy looked mortified, glancing nervously toward the bathroom. "I need to use the restroom."

Jamison shot her a look, his eyes dark and unreadable.

Sensing his foul mood, Ivy hesitated, then turned to face him. "What’s wrong with you?"

Jamison stepped inside, changing his shoes. Instead of answering, he deflected, "Weren’t you about to go to the bathroom?"

"Um, it’s not that urgent anymore…" Ivy fixed her gaze on him, recalling her earlier suspicions. With genuine concern, she asked, "Did you get into a fight with your family again?"

After Boyd left, his nerves got the best of him and he ended up calling Jamison–confessing that he’d left early and that Ivy had figured out Jamison went back to his parents' house. Boyd might not have known all the details, but after years of working with Jamison, he was sharp enough to pass along the warning.

So now, Jamison knew Ivy was already in on everything.

And thinking about that three-year pact she’d made with his mother–the promise that if she wasn’t pregnant or hadn’t given birth in three years, she’d leave him–made his blood boil all over again.

Ivy, noticing the way Jamison kept staring at her in stony silence, his expression impossible to read, frowned. "I’m talking to you. Are you playing some twisted game of freeze tag? Not allowed to talk or move?"

Jamison pressed his lips together, his expression finally shifting.

He wanted to snap at her, but held himself back, forcing out a cold, "I don’t want to talk to you."

Then he brushed past her, heading the other way.

Ivy stared after him, stunned, her eyes wide in disbelief.

"What’s that supposed to mean? What did I do to you?" All she got was the cold shoulder–he comes home and won’t even speak to her!

Jamison didn’t answer.

He knew his temper could get the better of him, and if he opened his mouth now, he might say something he’d regret. Better to say nothing at all.

But Ivy wasn’t built for silent treatments. She was the type who’d rather hash things out–even if it meant a shouting match–than stew in silence, so she couldn’t stand him ignoring her.

Watching Jamison move to the dining room and sit down to eat, she followed him, snatching the fork out of his hand.

He looked up sharply. "What are you doing?"

"You’re not eating until you tell me what’s going on!"

Jamison gave a cold laugh. "So now you’re being unreasonable? I work all day, come home exhausted, and you won’t even let me eat?"

"I know you work hard, and of course I care about you. But the way you’re acting right now isn’t okay."

"So what kind of attitude do you want from me?"

Finally, he was willing to talk. Ivy took a deep breath, reminding herself to stay calm, and sat down beside him, locking eyes.

"Did you go back to your childhood home to pick a fight? I told you earlier–your mother didn’t give me a hard time. I’m still here, aren’t I? We’re married. The law’s on our side; no one can just break us up. And I’ve never even considered leaving you, so nobody else can force it either."

"If you never thought about leaving, then why did you agree to a three-year deadline? Why put an expiration date on our marriage?" Jamison’s eyes narrowed, irritation brimming beneath the surface.

Ivy blinked. "Is that what you’re mad about?"

Jamison just glared at her, unwilling to dignify her with a response.

At least now she knew what set him off. That made things easier.

"That three-year thing? It’s just a stopgap. If I get pregnant and have a baby within three years, the agreement is meaningless–it’s automatically void. It doesn’t affect us at all."

Jamison’s jaw tightened. "And if you don’t?"

"If I don’t, maybe after three years of living together, we’ll have grown even closer. Maybe your mom will finally accept me, and all her objections will be gone."

Jamison couldn’t help but let out a short, exasperated laugh. "When did you get so shameless?"

Ivy grinned. "I learned from Emma. Whatever it takes to win people over, right?" She wasn’t just making it up–she really had learned a thing or two from Emma.