Jamison was still sulking. He hadn’t gotten the support he wanted, so he clammed up and pushed back his chair, ready to leave the dining room.

“You’re not eating anymore?”

“No. I’ve lost my appetite.”

Newlyweds shouldn’t have to deal with all this–never mind not really being together as husband and wife, or the pain and trouble of his injury. Now his wife wanted to move out and live apart from him.

Who wouldn’t be frustrated? Who could eat with all this going on?

“No way,” Ivy’s brows drew together; her tone grew unexpectedly firm. “Your mother watches us like a hawk. If you skip meals and start looking thin, she’ll blame me for neglecting you.”

Jamison stopped and shot her a cold, mocking look. “You don’t even care about me. Why would you care what my mother thinks?”

“How do I not care about you? Haven’t I done everything for you these last few days? Even your mother said so. I grew up pampered, barely able to take care of myself, and now here I am, nursing you back to health. What more do you want? This is the first time in my life I’ve ever waited on someone else.”

Somehow, those words soothed Jamison. His expression softened, if only a little, and after a couple awkward seconds, he reluctantly turned around and sat back down.

In the kitchen, the two housekeepers had braced themselves for a fight, worried Jamison would lose his temper. But just a few words from Ivy had calmed him right down. They exchanged surprised glances, then relaxed.

Ivy shot Jamison a look–she was still annoyed, but she knew better than to waste energy bickering over things like this. She sighed and coaxed him again, “Come on, eat up. You need good nutrition to recover quickly. You’re a doctor–you don’t need me to remind you.”

Jamison picked up his fork and grumbled, “If you keep making me mad, I’ll never get better.”

“Who’s making you mad? You’re just being petty,” Ivy muttered under her breath.

Jamison said nothing, staring moodily at his plate as his mind wandered elsewhere.

Chapter 373

He remembered chatting with Ivy on WhatsApp under his “Dr. Handsome” alias. Back then, she’d told him she was studying for her securities license, planning to become a professional trader and manage his investments.

So why was she suddenly talking about going back to school instead?

He wanted to ask her, but couldn’t blow his cover. He’d have to log in as Dr. Handsome tonight and try to coax the truth out of her.

When dinner was over, the housekeepers cleared the table and quietly retreated, leaving the big house eerily empty except for the two of them.

Ivy checked the time. It was late.

Neither of them had slept well the past few days, running around and dealing with too much. She just wanted to finish taking care of him so she could get some rest.

“Let’s go, time for a shower.” Ivy grabbed a towel and some clothes, then came back to hurry him along.

Jamison had just picked up his phone, ready to log in to WhatsApp, but looked up at her call. “Shower? This early?”

“Are you coming or not? If not, I’ll shower first. I’m tired and want to sleep. You can figure yourself out later,” Ivy shot back, her tone unmistakably brisk.

Jamison pressed his lips together and put his phone down with a sigh.

Ivy was a lot more practiced at undressing and helping him bathe this time around.

Still, the awkwardness, the teasing sense of intimacy, even a bit of that forbidden tension–it was all still there.

Jamison, still grumpy, could hardly control his body’s normal responses as his wife’s hands moved over him.

Ivy noticed the deepening flush on his already warm face, spreading down his neck like a sunset.

“Can you be serious for once? You’re still injured–what are you even thinking?” she snapped, catching on to his reaction.

Jamison looked put out. “It’s a normal physiological response, okay? Didn’t you pay attention in biology? If I didn’t react at all, wouldn’t