Ivy couldn’t help but laugh out loud at that, her amusement bubbling over. Carla stared at her, baffled. “What’s so funny? Did I say something hilarious?”

“Oh yes, you really did. I haven’t laughed this hard in ages.”

Carla fell silent, visibly fuming.

Ivy tossed aside the towel she’d been using to dry her hair and settled into the armchair on the balcony, setting her phone to speaker and tossing it onto the side table. She squeezed a bit of lotion into her palm and began to massage it into her legs.

“Why so quiet now?” she teased, drawing out the silence. “I was hoping you’d keep the jokes coming.”

“Ivy!” Carla’s voice was tight with anger, as if her fury could travel down the phone line. “You’re completely out of line! I’m your elder, and you can’t even show me a shred of respect?”

Ivy barely paused in her motions. “Elder? Respect? If even my own parents haven’t earned it, what makes you think you’re entitled to it?”

“You–”

“I’ve said what I needed to say. Instead of wasting your energy hassling me, maybe you should talk to your son–tell him to stop humiliating himself chasing after me.”

“Ivy, you’re impossible! I honestly don’t understand what Jamison ever saw in you!”

She smiled, unbothered. “Maybe he’s just drawn to how rebellious I am.”

Truthfully, Ivy knew she and Jamison were cut from the same cloth. That was why they understood each other so well.

Carla must have been thinking of her son’s threats to their parents the other night, because her tone turned icy. “At least you’re self-aware. You really are two of a kind.”

“Why, thank you.”

Silence crackled on the other end.

Ivy figured Carla’s blood pressure must be through the roof by now. Deciding she'd done enough damage, she didn’t bother with another retort and simply hung up.

She kept rubbing the lotion into her skin, replaying their conversation in her mind. The more she thought about it, the more it made her laugh.

How did a family like the Ludwigs, with all their old money and supposed breeding, end up raising such clueless daughters? Or maybe it was just that every woman, the moment she was about to become a mother-in-law, instinctively believed no woman on earth could ever be good enough for her precious son. Otherwise, how else could Carla say something so ridiculous?

Finished with her lotion, Ivy picked up her phone, debating whether to tell Jamison about the call. After all, she’d been pretty blunt, and if Carla decided to run home and complain, the fallout would probably land on Jamison. Maybe it was better to give him a heads up. But since they were seeing each other that evening anyway, she couldn’t be bothered to call just to “rat out” his mother. Let him have a peaceful day at work.

Her hair was still damp. As she stood up to dry it, she suddenly felt a warm rush between her legs. Her expression changed at once; she knew exactly what was happening. Grabbing some sanitary supplies, she hurried back to the bathroom.

How strange. This time, it had come out of nowhere, without the usual warning cramps. No excruciating pain two days beforehand. A wave of relief washed over her. Maybe the medication was finally working. Was her chronic problem really getting better?

But…

Her optimism was short-lived. Before lunchtime, the familiar pain returned, right on schedule. While she could still bear it, Ivy quickly heated up some lunch and ate, then retreated to her bedroom with a hot water bottle clutched to her stomach.

Outside, the sky had turned gloomy again. It was only early afternoon, but the world looked dim and colorless, as if the apocalypse were about to descend. Curled under the covers, Ivy stared at the clouds pressing down over the city, feeling the pain in her abdomen intensify. She rummaged through the nightstand, finding just two painkillers left. They’d probably do little good, but she had no other choice. She swallowed them and checked the time on her phone: just after one o’clock.