“No need, I just want to go home and rest. Don’t worry, I’m not going to sue you or anything.” Ivy had overheard Lamont’s conversation with his sister, and whatever goodwill she might have had for Ms. Quinn evaporated. She had zero interest in dealing with her.
Lamont caught her meaning right away and rushed to explain, “Don’t get the wrong idea. My sister didn’t realize how bad you were hurt—she just blurted out a question.”
Even with the explanation, Ivy had no interest in a hospital visit. All she wanted was to crawl into bed. But Lamont was already summoning a ride on his phone, his tone suddenly stern. “Ivy, you really need to get checked out. Just to be safe. If it turns out to be nothing, great, but if it’s a concussion or, God forbid, internal bleeding, delaying treatment could be really dangerous. My old roommate got hit in the head playing basketball last year; he thought he was fine, but he collapsed in the dorm later and had to be rushed to the ER. It nearly ended really badly.”
Ivy stared at him, his words sending a chill down her spine.
Katrina, looking equally alarmed, turned to her best friend. “Come on, Ivy, just get a scan. It’ll put your mind at ease.”
Ivy remembered Jamison was on night shift and wouldn’t be home, and she lived alone. If something did happen… She sighed. Maybe a check-up really would help her sleep tonight.
The car arrived quickly, and the three of them headed to the nearest hospital. It was late; regular clinics were closed, only the ER was still open.
Lamont made another call, and after a few minutes, he led them toward the inpatient wing. There was a good bit of waiting around, but eventually Ivy was ushered in for a brain CT scan. The doctor looked over the scans and reported, “There’s no sign of bleeding or damage. If you’re still having headaches, dizziness, or nausea, that’s probably just a mild concussion. No special treatment needed—just plenty of rest. You should feel better in a few days.”
Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief.
Just as they were about to leave, Lamont’s phone rang.
“You’re at the hospital, sis?” He answered, then looked around, standing on tiptoe, before waving his arm. “Celeste! Over here!”
Ivy was running on fumes by now, too tired to pay much attention. But as the newcomer approached and spoke, the voice sounded awfully familiar. Ivy blinked and looked up. Her eyes went wide with shock.
It was Celeste. Of course—it all made sense now. Quinn was a rare surname, and she was a doctor. What were the odds? The world really was impossibly small.
Celeste strode over, ready to ask her brother how things were going. But when she caught sight of Ivy, her expression froze in stunned disbelief.
“It’s you.” She was almost speechless.
Lamont and Katrina gaped at each other, then at their respective companions. In perfect unison, they blurted, “You two know each other?”
Ivy, despite her headache, managed a small smile. She turned to Katrina and, right in front of Celeste, explained, “Dr. Quinn here is my husband’s colleague. And, well, my… rival in love.”
The declaration was deliberate—Ivy almost never referred to Jamison as “my husband,” but tonight she made a point of it.
Katrina’s eyes went huge. “No way… What are the chances?”
Lamont’s face was a study in awkwardness. He looked from his sister to Ivy, then back again, his disbelief obvious. “Wait, Ivy, you’re married?”
Ivy raised her left hand, flashing the wedding band on her ring finger. “Perfectly legal. Any objections?”
“N-no! That’s not what I meant, I’m just… surprised,” Lamont stammered, glancing at his sister before lowering his voice. “Sis, you… like Ivy’s husband?”
Before he could finish, Celeste shot him a cold look. Lamont was nearly a head taller than her, but he wilted instantly and snapped his mouth shut. Celeste’s feelings were a tangled mess. She recalled seeing Adela Ludwig at the hospital that morning, accidentally stumbling across Ivy’s secret. She hadn’t expected to run into Ivy herself just hours later.
She chose not to respond to the “rival” comment. Instead, slipping into her most professional tone, she addressed Ivy, “Miss Windsor, how did your tests go? Any injuries? If my brother was responsible, I apologize on his behalf. If you need compensation, we’ll take care of it.”
Ivy’s reply was cool and neutral. “No need. Just a mild concussion. I’ll be fine after a few days' rest.”
With that, she linked arms with Katrina and walked away.
“Ivy, wait!”
Lamont hurried after her, but Celeste called him back, “Lamont, where are you going?”
“I’m taking her back to campus. I brought her out, it’s my responsibility to make sure she gets home safe.” He shot back, already jogging to catch up.
But Ivy had no interest in further contact. Her tone was frosty. “Lamont, I’m not blaming you. But please, don’t bother me anymore.”
“You’ve got it all wrong, I’m not-” Lamont tried to explain, but Ivy didn’t give him the chance. She spotted a cab dropping off a passenger and climbed in without a backward glance.
Lamont stood on the curb, hand half-raised, staring after the retreating taxi, looking almost forlorn.
Celeste came over, eyeing her brother pointedly. “Lamont, don’t tell me you’ve fallen for her at first sight?”