Chapter 476

“What, I can’t take a picture?” Ivy shot him a side-eye, her tone sharp.

Jamison fell silent, at a loss for words.

Watching the group chat heat up, Jamison couldn’t help but pull out his phone and scroll through the conversation again. The more he read, the more he started to sweat.

There was no point in hiding it anymore–he was the husband, after all. It was time to make things public and give everyone an answer.

Dr. Handsome: Everyone, it’s true–Mrs. Smith and I are married. I’m sorry for keeping it under wraps for so long, but I hope you’ll understand.

Dr. Handsome: When we finally have our wedding, you’ll all get an invitation. It’ll be a real celebration.

Dr. Handsome: And I promise, you’ll have the best seats in the house.

Ivy glanced at his messages, then shot him a look. “Who said I’m having a wedding with you? I’d never marry an old fox like you–I wouldn’t even know if I’d been sold off.”

Jamison didn’t dare argue. He forced a sheepish smile, treading carefully. “I didn’t mean to keep it from you. Back then, you hated my guts–I was scared you’d cut me out of your life if you knew the truth.”

“And after things got better between us? You had plenty of chances to be honest, but you still said nothing.”

“That’s just what you think. I was never sure you wouldn’t just up and leave me if you found out.” Dr. Ludwig knew how to play the sympathy card. He immediately lowered his tone, hoping for mercy.

Ivy smiled, but her words were ice cold. “Don’t make excuses, Jamison. I even dropped hints, and you still missed every single one.”

“Hints?” He racked his brain. “When?”

“I’m not wasting my breath.”

Ivy turned away, choosing instead to admire the garden bursting with autumn chrysanthemums.

Jamison was still deep in thought, searching his memory for a clue.

Thankfully, his memory was sharp. After a moment, it hit him. “Was it when we went to Westshire? You asked if I was hiding anything from you–so you knew all along?”

His heart was still hammering as he replayed their old online conversations in his mind. Looking back, she’d been stringing him along the whole time, playing dumb just to tease him…

A chill ran down his back.

“You knew who I was from the start, didn’t say a word, and kept making a fool out of me. Were you laughing at me in secret?” Jamison suddenly felt like a complete idiot, played for a fool.

Good thing she was his wife. Otherwise, he’d never live down the embarrassment.

“What, now you want to turn this around and blame me?” Ivy’s expression was icy, her posture regal.

“I wouldn’t dare.” He wiped his brow, still sweating. After a moment’s hesitation, curiosity got the better of him. “But how did you figure it out? I wasn’t even chatting with you online at that time.”

There shouldn’t have been any way for her to find out.

Ivy shot him a cold glance. “If you don’t want anyone to know, don’t do it in the first place. How I found out is none of your business.”

The owner of the bistro arrived with a waitress, bringing over steaming bowls of broth.

Ivy was truly starving. She picked up her spoon and slowly stirred the nourishing soup, ignoring him completely.

Jamison typed a quick message in the group chat–about to have dinner, talk later–then set his phone aside to watch her, unable to look away.

“Is it good? This place makes the best soup in town. I thought you’d like it.”

“I don’t feel like talking to you.”

“Ivy, I messed up. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t accept your apology.”

The rest of the dishes arrived quickly. After weeks of bland campus food, Ivy’s taste buds were desperate for relief.

Finally, she could enjoy a real meal. She lost herself in the flavors, so absorbed she couldn’t even muster the energy to stay mad.

Jamison watched as she devoured the food. He could tell she loved it here.

“If you like it, we can come back whenever you want. If I’m not around, bring your friends. The owner knows you now–she’ll take care of you.”

Ivy ignored him, still not ready to forgive.

He could only sigh and reach for his fork, but his appetite had vanished.

The owner came over with a pot of tea, noticing he’d barely touched his food. “Mr. Jamison, is everything not to your liking?”

“No, it’s not that. I’m just not hungry. I really just wanted her to try this place–she loves it.” Jamison nodded politely to his silent wife.

The owner beamed. “As long as Mrs. Jamison enjoys it, come back anytime.”

Ivy really did like it here.

The setting was beautiful, the staff friendly, the food exceptional–a perfect spot to relax and unwind.

“Thank you, everything was wonderful,” she said politely, smiling at the owner.

Jamison watched the difference in her attitude–warm to strangers, cold to him–and could only sigh again.

Ivy ate until she was full and finally set down her fork, a little reluctant to stop, though a few bites still remained on her plate.

“You’re not going to finish? After all that effort they put in, it’s rude to leave so much behind.” For the first time that evening, she turned to him, her voice as cool as ever.

Jamison picked up his fork, unfazed by the leftovers, and quickly cleared her plate.

By now, the sun was slipping below the horizon, painting the sky in fiery gold and washing the blooming chrysanthemums in warm light. The scene was breathtaking.

Sipping her tea and enjoying the flowers, Ivy waited until her mood had softened before finally setting down her cup and looking at her long-neglected husband.

“Alright, now that I’ve eaten, let’s settle the score.”

Jamison was pouring tea when she spoke. His hand jerked, nearly spilling scalding water onto his lap.

He glanced up, a nervous smile on his lips, half-pleading. “I thought you’d be too happy after dinner to hold a grudge.”