“It’s just that before I…” Jamison almost blurted out, “Before, I introduced you to Professor Penn,” but caught himself just in time–he couldn’t give himself away. He quickly switched gears. “There’s this renowned gynecologist at our hospital. I remember you saw her a while back. Your condition isn’t something that can be fixed overnight–it takes long-term care. Now that you’ll be living on campus, what if your cramps get bad again and I’m not around?”

Ivy picked up on what he was hinting at. His concern, so thoughtful and attentive, sent a quiet warmth fluttering through her chest. But after watching him nearly let something slip, Ivy couldn’t resist teasing him a little.

“You mean Professor Penn?” she asked, feigning innocence.

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” Ivy nodded, her tone casual. “You know, it was actually an online friend who suggested I see Professor Penn. Then I found out you and Professor Penn are close, and you even told me she’s your best friend’s mother, right?”

Jamison grew wary at her string of questions. “Yes, she’s Naylor Wilson’s mother.”

“Small world,” Ivy mused, sitting up and fixing him with wide, guileless eyes. “So, chances are, you know my online friend too. Maybe I should invite him out sometime. You two could meet–swap stories, learn from each other. After all, you’re in the same field.”

Jamison tensed, staring back at her as his mind raced–should he just confess?

“Ivy, actually I–"

“Oh, never mind!” she cut him off, abruptly changing tack. “He has a girlfriend now. If I asked him to meet up face-to-face, who knows what he might think…” She shook her head, looking mock-serious. “It’s best not to meet up with guys you know online. Saves everyone from unnecessary drama.”

Jamison had been on the verge of explaining, but her interruption left him once again hesitating.

“Alright, I’ll go to the hospital with you,” Ivy said breezily, as if she hadn’t noticed a thing, hopping out of bed. “Might as well get another check-up. My period’s coming up, and honestly, just thinking about it stresses me out.”

Jamison turned to watch her retreating figure as she headed for the bathroom, trying to get another word in. “Ivy, I—”

“I need the bathroom. Whatever it is, tell me later.” With that, Ivy shut the door, cutting him off completely.

One door between them.

Inside the bathroom, Ivy stifled a mischievous grin.

Outside, Jamison was left frowning in frustration.

The housekeeper brought breakfast as usual.

After washing up, they both hurried through their meal. Jamison, deciding his shoulder was fine, waved off the driver and grabbed the car keys himself. The conversation from earlier, left unresolved, was now quietly and mutually set aside.

Ivy had no intention of letting him explain himself–not yet. It was far more fun to keep him guessing, to watch him squirm and hesitate. There was a certain satisfaction in it.

After buckling her seatbelt, Jamison started the engine. Ivy glanced at him anxiously. “Are you sure you’re up for this? Maybe I should drive. Safety first.”

Jamison shot her a confident smirk. “Ivy, don’t ever ask a man if he’s ‘up for it.’ That’s a challenge.”

Ivy stared at him, speechless. Her mind flashed back to him slipping in at four or five in the morning, still full of energy and wild ideas. She couldn’t help but mutter, “You’re such a creep.”

“A creep? If I really were, I wouldn’t have let you off the hook last night.”

Ivy had no comeback for that. Flustered, she snapped, “Just drive already! At this rate, we’ll get there at noon.”