Chapter 642

What was wrong with men these days? Had they all lost their sense of decency?

She didn’t want to say anything more—just hoped the girl in front of her could find some backbone, learn from this disaster, and keep her eyes open next time.

“I’ll transfer the money now.” Ivy took out her phone, not hesitating for a second.

Roberta fished out her own phone. As soon as she unlocked the screen, Ivy caught a glimpse of her wallpaper—a sweet photo of Roberta and her loser ex, both smiling, looking as happy as could be.

Maybe she noticed Ivy’s reaction, because Roberta paused. “Hold on a sec.”

She immediately changed her wallpaper, muttering under her breath, “I’ll delete every last photo of that jerk tonight.”

Ivy sent her ten thousand dollars right away. The notification pinged—payment received.

Roberta’s eyes filled with tears. “I’ll pay you back within six months, I promise. I’ll even write you a note with interest.”

“That’s not necessary. If you don’t pay me back on purpose, I’m not about to drag you to court over this amount. I’m helping you out of kindness—if you try to cheat me, then I’ll just have to wish that you only ever meet scumbags for the rest of your life.”

Ivy’s words were harsh, but sometimes a dose of honesty was the greatest kindness. Roberta didn’t take it the wrong way. In fact, she grew even more earnest. “I won’t, I swear. Thank you—really.”

Just as they finished talking, Jamison walked over with a woman in a doctor’s coat. “We’ll get you into surgery in a bit,” the doctor said.

Roberta was startled. “I thought it was supposed to be tomorrow?”

“We’re short-staffed tonight, but Professor Ludwig made a call and got an OB-GYN to come in.”

If Jamison made the request himself, no doctor would say no.

Ivy shot her husband a look of surprise. Roberta, too, was deeply grateful. “Thank you—if it weren’t for you two today…”

When you’re desperate and someone steps in to help, it can break you. Roberta’s words dissolved into sobs—she couldn’t even get a full sentence out.

Jamison’s expression stayed cool and distant. “You shouldn’t get so worked up. Too much emotion could cause another hemorrhage.”

Roberta had to force herself to calm down, taking deep breaths.

Soon, a nurse arrived with the surgical consent form.

Normally, family would sign, but with Jamison vouching for her, Roberta was allowed to sign for herself.

“Would you like anesthesia?” the nurse asked. “It costs extra, but you can do the procedure without it.”

Roberta barely hesitated. “No anesthesia. Just do it.”

Ivy didn’t quite understand, but Jamison knew—and quietly warned her, “Without anesthesia, it’s going to hurt. A lot.”

“I know. I looked it up.” Roberta’s lips trembled as she thanked him again, then turned to the nurse. “I’m sure. No anesthesia.”

She needed her body and mind to remember the agony—to carve it into her bones, so she’d never again let herself fall for the wrong man.

“Alright. Get ready. We’ll begin in ten minutes.” The nurse left, consent form in hand. Roberta was terrified. She could barely handle her usual cramps; now she was about to have cold instruments scraping her insides, pulling out what was left. The thought alone made her shiver uncontrollably.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be okay.” Ivy wasn’t exactly close to Roberta, but it was the only comfort she could offer.

Once Roberta was wheeled away, Ivy let out a sigh, muttering, “She’s refusing anesthesia to make sure she never forgets this pain. She wants it to last.”

That takes guts.

Jamison said nothing. He didn’t care much about other people’s problems. The only reason he helped tonight was to get things over with—so his wife wouldn’t worry herself sick.

Ivy understood this perfectly. She turned to him with a small smile. “Thank you. This really had nothing to do with you, but you still came along and did me a favor.”

Jamison tugged at her cheek, not bothering to be polite. “Why are you thanking your own husband? I’m helping you—not anyone else.”

“I know. You just wanted to make sure I wouldn’t be lying awake tonight, thinking about her.”

He only smiled, saying nothing.

Maybe this was what it meant to be in sync. No need to explain—one look was enough.

Roberta’s surgery went smoothly. Twenty minutes later, she was out.

Without anesthesia, she was drenched in cold sweat, her face as pale as a sheet.

Seeing Ivy and Jamison still there, she was surprised. In a weak voice, she said, “Thank you. It’s late—you two should go home.”

“Alright. Take care of yourself.” Ivy had just been waiting for Roberta to come out so she could say goodbye.

On the drive home, Ivy couldn’t help but sigh. “Isn’t it strange how some people go out of their way to avoid having kids, but end up pregnant anyway—while others want nothing more than a child, and can never have one…”