Chapter 81: That Wasn’t Me!

Chapter 81: That Wasn't Me!

Ivy

“Don’t tell me you’re still mad at me.”

I ignored Poppy and kept flipping through the channels on the television without really seeing any of them.

Yes, I was still mad at her. Why wouldn’t I be?

“This silent treatment thing is childish, Ivy.” She sighed dramatically and slid closer on the sofa. “I’m lost without you, bestie.”

I glanced at her once, rolled my eyes, and looked away again. She had nearly ruined things between Leo and me. That wasn’t something a casual apology could erase in an afternoon.

“You need to learn boundaries, Poppy,” I said quietly. “You can’t see something, assume you understand the entire story, and then run with a narrative that isn’t true. That’s wrong.”

“I said I was sorry, didn’t I?” She hooked her arm through mine and rested her head against my shoulder. “I was just looking out for you. You know I love you. If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t have been so worried.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming over with Julia and Andy?” I turned so I could see her face properly. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing that moment was for me?”

“I didn’t want to warn you ahead of time in case you tried to cover the marks with makeup or something.”

I gave her a flat look. “Really?”

The apologetic expression melted into something mischievous. “Besides, how was I supposed to know you’d be in the middle of… suckling Leo?”

I gasped and yanked my arm free as heat flooded my face. “Poppy!”

She laughed and immediately reattached herself to my side like a persistent vine. “Don’t be such a prude. Did I lie?”

I pressed my lips together, suddenly remembering the part that still made my stomach twist. “Did you… see my boobs?” I asked under my breath.

Her laughter came back louder. “No full boob. Your back was to the door. But I think we all got a solid view of the side. Your jugs are… not exactly subtle.”

I buried my face in my hair and groaned. “Please stop talking. Kill me instead.”

Poppy, of course, had no interest in comforting me.

“Stop being such a goody-goody.” She smacked my thigh lightly. “You’ve already crossed over to the other side with Leo. Give me all the juicy details.”

I stared at her. “Weren’t you just treating me like a potential victim an hour ago?”

She waved the reminder away like it was nothing more than a mild inconvenience. “Forget that. Bygones. You say he doesn’t hurt you, so I believe you—”

“I don’t.” The voice came from behind the sofa.

I didn’t need to turn around to know who it belonged to. Andy stepped into view and stopped directly in front of us, jaw tight.

“You’ve already slept with him?” He sounded almost stunned. “Barely a few days and you’ve reduced yourself to that?”

I exhaled slowly, already exhausted. “Andy, I don’t want to argue with you. Please go back to Maddie. I don’t have the energy for this.”

“Yeah,” Poppy added. “Get out. This is a girls’ conversation. You’re not invited.”

Instead of leaving, Andy reached down, closed his hand around my upper arm, and pulled me up from the sofa in one sharp motion.

“Andy, let me go!” I tried to twist free.

“Andy, stop!” Poppy was on her feet immediately, following as he started dragging me toward the hallway. “What are you doing?!”

He didn’t answer her. He didn’t slow down until we reached the guest room he had been given. Only then did he turn his head toward his sister. “Stop yelling. We’re just going to talk.”

“Are you crazy?” Poppy’s voice rose. “Let her go!”

My heart was slamming against my ribs by the time he shoved the door open and pulled me inside. The lock clicked behind us.

We were alone.

Andy’s face was flushed with anger and something uglier—jealousy, wounded pride, the kind of possessive heat I had spent years wishing he would aim at me and now wanted nothing to do with.

I didn’t trust this version of him. Not when he was this wound up. “Andy, let me out,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Please.”

“You had sex with Leo.” He said it like an accusation. “Why would you do that?”

“How is that any of your business?” I was already tired of repeating myself. “Open the door.”

“Why would you do that?!” Louder this time. “Were you trying to make me jealous by fucking him? Or did you just need to feel wanted because deep down you’re still that same little, timid, awkward girl hoping I’ll finally—”

I slapped him.

The crack of my palm against his cheek surprised both of us. I felt the sting in my hand before I fully registered what I had done. His expression barely changed.

Something inside me that had been held down for years finally snapped.

I shoved him hard with both hands. “You think you have the right to be angry?!” My voice came out raw. “You think you get a say in who I let touch me?”

He looked stunned.

“Who gave you the right to ruin my happiness, Anderson?!” The words tore out of me. “For years I loved you! I treasured every scrap of attention you threw my way. I built an entire altar in my chest waiting for you to climb down from the pedestal I put you on and actually see me. And what did you do?!”

Angry tears blurred my vision. I pointed a shaking finger at him.

“You ignored me. For years. Years, Anderson! How dare you show up now—now—when someone finally loves me the way I always wanted to be loved? How dare you try to tear apart the first good thing I’ve had?”

“Ivy—”

“You want to destroy my relationship?” I kept going, voice rising. “Did I destroy yours? You’re standing here furious that I slept with someone else, but you've been fucking Maddie for years without a second thought. Yet I never made a scene! I swallowed every single piece of pain that came with watching you be happy with someone who wasn’t me. Why can’t you do the same?!”

“Because I can’t look away!” he shouted back. “I can’t look away because I'm in love with you!”

I stared at him for a long second. Then I laughed. It came out humorless. “Finally! After all this time. It took you eleven years to feel even a fraction of what I felt.”

“I know I’m late—”

“No.” I cut him off. “You don’t get to erase everything with one sentence. What about when I was sixteen and I wrote you that letter? Why did you do what you did?”

He took a step closer, shaking his head. “That wasn’t me, Ivy. Trust me.”

I let out another short, disbelieving laugh. “Now you’re going to deny that you were the one who showed that letter to my dad? I always knew you didn’t feel the same way. But you never should have—”

“That wasn’t me!” His voice cracked with frustration. “I cherished that letter. I wrote one back to you.”

The words landed strangely. I felt myself pull back half a step. “What…?”

Andy’s hands settled carefully on my shoulders, as if he was afraid I might bolt.

“Ivy… I wasn’t the one who showed that letter to your parents.”

I stared at him, the old memory rising.

The humiliation of my father finding the letter, the way he had looked at me, the sharp words that followed, the way I had never written anything that vulnerable again.

“Then who did?”