Chapter 234
Ivy opened her eyes and looked at him, a sudden thought flashing through her mind. "What about you... Don't tell me you haven't eaten again?"
Jamison’s lips curved into a faint smile, and he let out a quiet sigh. "After I finished the surgery and got back to my office, my assistant brought up dinner. But as soon as I pulled out my phone, I saw your call..."
Ivy pressed her lips together. She understood immediately.
So, he’d rushed straight over without stopping to eat.
She felt a little guilty and hesitated before speaking. "There’s plenty of food in the fridge–last night’s dinner you had delivered, it was too much, so I saved most of it. It’s still good. Why don’t you heat something up in the microwave?"
"I'm fine. I’d rather stay here with you."
"I’m feeling better now. You just sitting here is a waste of time."
Seeing that she was insistent, Jamison had no choice but to get up. "Alright, I’ll go see what’s in the kitchen."
Despite coming from a wealthy family, Jamison had spent years as a doctor living just like everyone else. When things got busy, eating cold takeout at his desk with the rest of his team was nothing unusual. He went downstairs, opened the fridge, and pulled out a couple of plastic containers. There was still plenty of food left. Frowning, he realized Ivy must not have eaten much all day.
He put one of the containers in the microwave, set the timer, then headed back upstairs.
"You didn’t eat last night?" he asked as he walked into the bedroom.
"I did–just couldn’t finish it all. I even had some at lunch, but it’s still not gone," Ivy replied.
Jamison let out a helpless sigh. "You barely eat. Honestly, I should just hire a housekeeper to watch you and make sure you get three proper meals a day."
Ivy just gave him a look, speechless.
Downstairs, the microwave beeped, signaling the food was ready. Jamison turned and went back down, reheating the rest of the dishes one by one.
A few minutes later, he came back up carrying the warmed food and set it on the nightstand.
"Want to try eating a bit more?" he offered.
But Ivy was still hooked up to the IV and couldn’t really move. She shook her head. "I’m not hungry. You go ahead."
Whenever her cramps hit, her stomach always felt bloated and uncomfortable–eating was the last thing on her mind.
Jamison knew she wasn’t up for food right now, but he also knew that eating would help her regain her strength faster. He checked the time; only five minutes left before the IV would be done. He decided he’d wait.
"Why aren’t you eating?" she asked.
"I can wait," he said simply.
Jamison reached over and took her hand, noticing how cold her fingers felt.
It was the middle of summer, and even with the rain cooling things down outside, her hands shouldn’t be this icy.
He frowned. "The medicine Professor Brown prescribed–is it not helping?"
Ivy shook her head. "No, it’s helping. At least I’m not in pain for two or three days beforehand anymore."
Jamison relaxed a little. "That’s good. If you stick with the treatment, it might work even better after a full course."
Ivy nodded, but her tone grew distant. "But this kind of illness is hard to cure completely."
She’d spent a lot of time online lately, reading up on what specialists had to say. The consensus was always the same: full recovery was rare.
Many women who suffered like she did tried everything, but nothing worked. Some eventually chose surgery, giving up on ever having children.
She’d never really dreamed of marriage or motherhood, so she’d already prepared herself for the worst.
A clean break–no more pain.
Jamison watched her as she spoke, her face calm and detached. Remembering what she’d said in the past, he suddenly understood what was running through her mind.
"Don’t get ahead of yourself," he said softly. "It’s helping, isn’t it? How do you know it won’t get better? And even if it doesn’t–you still have me."