Ivy whipped her head around to stare at him, utterly dumbfounded.
Marriage?
They weren’t even officially together yet, and the guy was already proposing?
“You… Are you kidding me?” After a long pause, Ivy finally blurted out, her disbelief written all over her face. “Marriage isn’t some joke! You’re being way too hasty.”
Jamison, still focused on the road, looked completely serious and sincere.
He glanced over at her, “I’m not joking. I never make decisions lightly. Didn’t you just say I’m old enough? So, what’s so strange about getting married?”
Ivy took a moment to process this. “So, what–you’re feeling pressured because of your age and just want to marry the first woman you find?”
“How could it be just anyone?” Jamison grinned, unruffled. “I already told you, I think things through. I have good taste–and luck, too. If it weren’t for your… unique situation, I might never have had this chance. Honestly, from your point of view, maybe meeting me now is just fate making up for the last three years of bad luck.”
Ivy was speechless.
This guy’s confidence–and backhanded compliments–were really something else.
“I mean it. Think it over.” Seeing her fall silent, Jamison pressed on, sensing she was wavering. “You know my background and my career. I’m financially comfortable. Being with me, you’d never come out on the losing end.”
Ivy gave a cold snort. “Whatever you have is all yours before marriage. What’s that got to do with me?”
Besides, the richer the man, the more he guards his money. They’re the first to whip out a prenup and keep every cent accounted for.
Anyone hoping to marry into money and get a piece of the pie? Good luck. If you walk away with your youth and beauty intact, consider yourself fortunate.
Jamison chuckled, completely undeterred. “If we’re together, my money is yours to spend. Of course it matters to you.”
“Yours to spend?” Ivy shot him a skeptical look. Men always talked a big game.
They’d only known each other a few months. Their foundation was shaky at best. Plenty of couples who’d been together for years still kept their guard up after marriage.
And yet here he was, promising her a blank check.
Chapter 207
Worried she didn’t believe him, Jamison waited until they stopped at a red light, then turned to her with total seriousness. “Absolutely. Spend as much as you like. And if it’s not enough, I’ll just work harder to make more.‘
Ivy was stunned.
“What… what do you even want from me? If I were the Ivy from three years ago, maybe I could understand.”
Back then, she’d been dazzling–talented, magnetic, always surrounded by admirers. There were plenty of wealthy men lining up to shower her with gifts just to see her smile.
But now? Her reputation was in ruins, her health was a mess, she was isolated and burdened by endless troubles.
“And my illness–you’re a doctor, you know better than anyone. I might never have children. If you marry me, you’re risking never having a family of your own.”
Jamison shrugged, completely casual. “Wouldn’t that just make things easier?”
“Easier?” Ivy stared at him, caught off guard. Before she could ask, the light changed and the car started moving again.
Jamison’s handsome profile betrayed a flicker of embarrassment, and his tone grew awkward. “Well… no need to worry about birth control, right? Makes life simpler.”
Ivy suddenly understood.
This guy!
Her face flushed crimson, and she was at a loss for words.
No matter how their conversation twisted and turned, it always seemed to circle back to the raw, unvarnished truth between men and women.
She couldn’t help thinking of what Professor Brown had said–that Jamison was brimming with energy and ought to find a healthy outlet for it. Which, in plain English, meant he didn’t have a girlfriend–at least not recently.
For a healthy, vigorous man like him, that couldn’t be easy.
And yet, he was still single.
That meant he had standards. He wasn’t the type to settle, nor did he let himself be led around by his desires.
But why her?
Was he just attracted to her looks?
Ivy knew her face was considered top–tier among the socialites of Neo Haven.
When she’d first come back, she’d been a shadow of herself: gaunt, sickly, with a terrible
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Chapter 207
haircut and all sorts of nasty rumors swirling around her–people said she had AIDS, that she’d given birth to a deformed child for some old man. Everyone gave her a wide berth.
But after months of careful recovery, she’d bounced back completely. Her transformation was almost unreal–her skin was luminous, her features delicate and striking, her hair gleaming and silky.
She wasn’t bragging, but if there was ever a face that could launch a thousand ships, it might as well be hers.
And thinking back, it seemed like Jamison’s attitude toward her changed right around the time she started looking good again.
So-
When they arrived at the restaurant and got out of the car, Ivy asked him bluntly, “Is it just my face you’re after?”
Jamison had thought her long silence meant she was weighing his proposal. He hadn’t expected that she’d been pondering why he liked her at all.
He couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head. Then he reached out, gently tipping her chin up and turning her face this way and that, inspecting her with an exaggerated air of judgment.
Her eyes sparkled, her features were gentle yet spirited, lips pink, teeth white, her new hair
nce and quiet a dark, glossy cascade framing her delicate face–a picture of inno stubbornness, purity with a hint of defiance.
“This face really is something,” Jamison said with mock seriousness, as if delivering a verdict. “No wonder they say even heroes fall for beauty.”
But Ivy could hear the teasing in his voice. She rolled her eyes, slapped his hand away, and turned to walk ahead.
Jamison laughed, following after her. “Is that really all you think of me? That I’m that -shallow?”