“Ivy…” Micah’s eyes locked onto hers, and he couldn’t stop himself from stepping closer. “I–I still can’t let you go. As long as you’re healthy, I don’t care about your past, not even if you’ve had a child. Emma is nothing compared to you, and the worst part is she lied to me—”

“How pathetic.” Ivy cut him off with a biting laugh. “So you don’t care about my history, and that means I’m supposed to take you back? Emma was pregnant with your kid, right? You’re a sleaze, Micah—just looking at you makes me sick.”

Micah tried to defend himself. “She came on to me! It was all her idea, right from the start! I’m just a normal guy—”

He kept coming closer, and Ivy’s face grew colder, her whole body tensing as she snapped, “Micah, back off! Stay away from me!”

But with his so-called true love standing right in front of him, there was no way Micah was letting go. He reached out, but before he could touch her, Katrina stormed over and smacked his hand away.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? You need to leave—now! Or I’m calling the police.” Katrina whipped out her phone, her voice sharp.

“Ivy, we can start over!” Micah blurted, grabbing Ivy’s arm and trying to pull her toward him.

“You creep! Let her go! Micah, you’re disgusting—let go of her!” Katrina yanked at his sleeve, but Micah clamped down on Ivy’s wrist, refusing to let go.

Ivy was still weak from the past few days and barely had the strength to struggle, but she tried anyway, shoving at him as best she could. The scene was spiraling out of control when suddenly the doorbell rang.

“Katrina, get the door!” Ivy gasped, pushing back against Micah and calling out to her friend.

Katrina, already guessing who it was, spun around and hurried to answer. Jamison stepped inside, barely through the door before he took in the chaos in the living room. His voice boomed, “Let her go!”

But it was already too late. Ivy snatched a heavy ornament off the dresser without hesitation and slammed it down on Micah’s head. With a howl of pain, Micah staggered back, clutching his head and doubling over.

Jamison strode forward, grabbed his nephew by the collar, and yanked him upright to check the wound, his brow furrowed in anger. Ivy leaned against the dresser, catching her breath, still shaken by what had just happened. Katrina looked terrified by the scene but, seeing the state her friend was in, rushed over to steady her. “Ivy, are you alright? Did he hurt you?”

“No…” Ivy shot a disgusted glare at Micah, not a trace of guilt on her face. If she hadn’t hit him just now, that creep would’ve tried to kiss her by force. Absolutely revolting.

“First-aid kit. Where is it?” Jamison sat Micah down on the sofa, glancing at the two women.

Katrina wanted nothing to do with it, but seeing the blood running down Micah’s face, she worried he’d accuse Ivy of assault and pressed her lips together, going to fetch the kit.

Jamison straightened up and turned to Ivy, looking her over. “Are you hurt? Did he lay a hand on you?”

Ivy’s voice was icy. “Almost.”

Jamison didn’t reply to her, but instead turned to his nephew and, with no hesitation, smacked him on the back of the head, sending Micah lurching forward.