As soon as Jamison got into the car, he called Ivy.
Ivy sounded surprised when she picked up. “Weren’t you supposed to have dinner at home tonight? How do you still have time to call me?”
Jamison didn’t answer her question. He got straight to the point. “Did Carla come to see you again today? Why didn’t you tell me?”
There was a brief silence on the other end. Ivy froze for a moment, realizing he must have had a fight with his family when he got home. His voice was still tense.
“Did you two argue?”
“I left. I’m coming over now.”
Ivy rolled her eyes inwardly and paused before trying to talk him down. “Carla didn’t really give me a hard time. Honestly, I think I managed to annoy her more than she bothered me. Your parents are getting older, Jamison. You really don’t have to keep butting heads with them on my account.”
Jamison was unmoved. “I’ll be there in about forty minutes.”
Before Ivy could say anything else, he hung up.
She sighed, setting her phone down.
“What’s wrong?” Katrina looked up from the couch, concern in her eyes. “Did Dr. Ludwig argue with his family again?”
“Looks like it. He’s on his way over, probably to ask what Micah’s mother said to me earlier.”
Katrina shrugged. “Then just tell him. It’s not like they were in the right anyway.”
Ivy didn’t reply. She wasn’t rattled by any of this. As long as the world wasn’t ending and Jamison didn’t change his mind, she’d be at city hall on Wednesday, signing the marriage license.
Jamison showed up not long after.
Katrina, ever the considerate roommate, greeted him at the door and then quietly slipped upstairs, giving the two of them some privacy.
Ivy looked at the handsome, serious man standing in her kitchen and got up to meet him. “You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”
Jamison clearly wasn’t thinking about food. He walked straight over, eyes intent. “What exactly did Carla say to you?”
Ivy countered, “She didn’t tell you herself?”
“They mentioned the five hundred million I gave you, but before they could say anything else, I walked out.”
Ivy understood instantly—he was worried she’d get cold feet after what his family said, so he rushed over to reassure her.
“What are you afraid of?” She arched an eyebrow, completely calm. “Do you really think a couple of nasty comments are enough to scare me off?”
Jamison took in her words, studying her open, smiling eyes. The knot in his chest finally loosened a little.
Seeing his face relax, Ivy took his hand. “Come on, eat something. I roped Katrina into being my coach and managed to make you a bowl of pasta.”
Jamison looked genuinely surprised. “You made it just for me?”
“What else? By the time you called, Katrina and I had almost finished dinner. I wasn’t about to leave you with cold leftovers.”
As they talked, Ivy led him into the kitchen.
A large porcelain bowl sat on the counter, filled with spaghetti in a bright tomato and egg sauce, topped with a few greens and several plump shrimp.
It looked beautiful—artfully arranged and downright appetizing.
“You made this?” Jamison asked, astonished.
“What, do you want me to call Katrina down as a witness?” Ivy pretended to be offended by his doubt. “Just because I’m not a great cook doesn’t mean I can’t plate a dish nicely.”
It’s not like following a video tutorial online is rocket science.
“No, that’s not it. It just looks amazing—I can hardly believe it.”
On the drive over, Jamison’s mind had been shrouded in gloom.
He hadn’t expected that, just by stepping into her apartment, all that heaviness would simply melt away.
He looked at Ivy, at a loss for words, feeling a surge of gratitude. Now he understood—his love for this woman wasn’t without reason.
There was simply so much about her to adore.
No wonder Micah was still hopelessly in love, unable to let her go.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Ivy warned. “Let me be clear: after we get married, don’t expect me to turn into some domestic goddess who cooks you dinner every night. I’m not that kind of wife. Making this bowl of pasta was a battle—I nearly threw the pot out the window if Katrina hadn’t kept encouraging me.”