Chapter 9

Ivy swallowed the bitterness clawing at her throat, forcing a look of quiet vulnerability. She lowered her gaze, her voice soft and laced with concern. "Atlas," she murmured, "I'm worried about you. You haven't eaten or slept in days. This isn't good. I believe Celeste will return—she just needs time."

The mention of her name darkened the shadows in Atlas Whitmore's eyes. His jaw clenched. "Ivy," he said quietly but firmly, "from now on, let's not see each other. I don't want any more misunderstandings."

Ivy's breath hitched. Her head snapped up, disbelief evident in her eyes. "Atlas, we've known each other for years. How can you just cut me off?"

But he wasn't looking at her. His gaze remained fixed on the wedding portrait before him—the image of Celeste and him, forever frozen in time. "This should have ended long ago," he continued, his tone devoid of warmth. "You're married. And I'm married. I can't keep hurting Celeste."

He exhaled slowly, as if finally ceasing to lie to himself. "I love her. I can't lose her again."

The words struck Ivy like a slap. Something inside her snapped. "No!" she shrieked, her voice raw with desperation. "Atlas, I'm the one you love! It's always been me! For over a decade, it's always been me!"

Her breathing was ragged, her composure crumbling. "You don't love Celeste," she spat, her voice trembling. "You just pity her! Don't you see? She doesn't love you either! You know who she truly loves—"

She stopped abruptly, her chest heaving.

Atlas stared at her, his brows furrowing slightly. For the first time, he saw Ivy not as the unattainable woman he had once pursued, not as someone he had placed on a pedestal, but as someone desperate—desperate to hold onto him.

Does Ivy love him? The thought struck him as odd. Because if she truly did, why had she married someone else? For years, he had followed her like a shadow, always waiting, always hoping. And Ivy had never stopped him—because she had loved his devotion, his attention, the way he worshipped her. But now, looking at her, Atlas no longer understood her at all.