Chapter 115
“You still care about your arch–nemesis? And you sent her to see me for treatment?”
At Professor Brown’s age, there was little he couldn’t see through.
Jamison hadn’t spelled it out, but anyone piecing together the last few events could easily figure it out.
Clearly, Jamison had referred that young woman to his clinic, which explained why he’d shown up early, lurking around, waiting for her appointment.
Jamison’s handsome face grew even more uncomfortable as he tried to protest. “I don’t care about her. I just wanted to confirm her identity. Besides, she has no idea who I am.”
Professor Brown frowned, puzzled. “What do you mean? You’ve seen each other, haven’t you? And yet you don’t recognize each other?”
Jamison hesitated, searching for an explanation, when his phone chimed.
He glanced down. Another WhatsApp message from Mrs. Smith.
“Professor Brown, I’ll let you get back to your work. I have something to take care of. I’ll visit you another time,” he said quickly, turning to leave before Professor Brown could reply.
“Wait!” Professor Brown called after him, brows furrowed in thought. His tone turned serious. “That young woman has plenty of health issues. Her circulation is poor, she’s got a chill deep in her system, and she’s dealing with severe endometriosis. She may have trouble conceiving in the future, and her periods will be agony. If you truly want a future with her, you’d better help her get proper treatment. Use the acupuncture technique I taught you–give her a few more sessions. It should help ease her symptoms.”
Jamison turned back, face burning with embarrassment. “Professor Brown, you’ve got it all wrong.”
Professor Brown just smiled, full of confidence. “I know what I see.”
Jamison had no answer for that. He simply turned and slipped out through the side corridor.
A knowing smile tugged at Professor Brown’s lips. “Ha! He’s clearly smitten and won’t admit it.”
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He found it all rather amusing–after all, the famously stoic Professor Ludwig was finally showing a hint of human weakness.
Inside the elevator, Jamison pulled out his phone and opened WhatsApp.
Mrs. Smith: Thank you, Dr. Handsome. I saw the doctor you
recommended–Professor Brown is amazing! He took one look at me and figured out everything that was wrong.
Now that her little deception had been exposed, Mrs. Smith was far more candid, no longer hiding her laundry list of ailments.
Jamison stared at the message, unsure whether he should reply.
Professor Brown was right–his concern for Ivy had crossed a line.
But in truth, whether Mrs. Smith was Ivy or not, it had nothing to do with him.
He had no idea why he’d insisted on coming here, or why he needed to know for
sure.
And what would it change, even if he did?
He didn’t like women like Ivy–she was too much, pricklier than a rose, a live wire who flared up at the slightest spark.
Even knowing now that she was talented and sharp with numbers couldn’t erase the bad impression she’d left before.
And thinking back to her dinner invitation earlier, Jamison realized her attitude
toward him had shifted.
Maybe she’d mistaken his simple kindness for something more.
That wouldn’t do. He needed to set clear boundaries.
Having made up his mind, Jamison got into his car, pulled out his phone, and typed a brief reply: No problem.
Just two words–no follow–up questions, no hint of concern.
Back to his usual self: quiet, aloof, impossible to approach.
Ivy was still in line at the pharmacy.
When her phone buzzed with Dr. Handsome’s reply, she glanced down eagerly–only for her heart to sink, her expression turning somber.
Honestly, she’d sent that message just to smooth things over after her awkward
dinner invitation.
If he hadn’t misunderstood her intentions, he would have at least asked how the appointment went, or whether the diagnosis was serious.
But he hadn’t.
Just those two cold, distant words.
Ivy put her phone away, a wave of disappointment washing over her.
She regretted it–she never should have sent that message asking to meet up.
He must think she was one of those women, and so he’d immediately started distancing himself.
The frustration was overwhelming, but there was nothing she could say to explain–any explanation would only sound like a cover–up.
That day, the “Stonks Only Go Up” WhatsApp group was buzzing as usual, but Dr. Handsome didn’t make another appearance.
Even when Dale tagged him several times, he ignored it.
Everyone assumed Dr. Handsome was just caught up at work, probably battling to save lives again.
But only Ivy knew the real reason–he was avoiding her, shutting her out completely. For the rest of the day, she felt as if she’d lost a friend, maybe even something
more.
But Ivy was nothing if not resilient.
These days, it was hard enough to trust people face–to–face, let alone over the internet.
So what if it ended? Nothing worth dwelling on.
At least the new medication was working wonders.
With the internal and topical treatments, plus herbal baths, her itchiness eased that very night, and she was finally able to sleep soundly.
The next morning, Ivy returned to the Windsor estate for the first time since her accident.
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Chapter 115
Surprisingly, the house was empty.
Edna, the housekeeper, told her the master was at work, and the lady of the house had taken the young master to the hospital.
Emma was being discharged today.
Ivy couldn’t help but smile at the thought–Emma had been shuttling back and forth from the hospital for weeks. It was a classic case of someone setting a trap for herself.
Emma had schemed endlessly to get at her, but every plan had blown up in her face.
With time to kill before everyone returned, Ivy headed to the staff quarters to pack up her belongings and load them into her car.
No sooner had she finished than two cars pulled into the drive.
Emma was back.
The Windsors had come to escort her, and Micah was with them.
Watching Micah fuss over Emma, carefully helping her into the house and settling her gently on the sofa, Ivy found herself more confused than ever.
She just couldn’t figure out what it was about Emma that Micah liked.
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