“What?” Dr. Ludwig’s expression froze mid-sentence.

Ivy grinned. “I told you those two had chemistry, but you wouldn’t believe me—now it turns out I was right.”

Jamison caught on. “Wait, are you saying… Katrina slept with Naylor?”

“Oh, come on!” Ivy shot him a glare. “They’re into each other. It was mutual attraction, not some shady one-night stand.” She couldn’t stand the way Jamison made her best friend sound like some kind of femme fatale.

Jamison frowned. “Are you sure Naylor wasn’t drugged or plastered?”

Because, honestly, knowing his buddy as well as he did, Katrina was far from the type Naylor usually went for.

Ivy’s icy stare shut him up immediately, and Dr. Ludwig took the hint, falling silent. Still, Ivy wasn’t pleased. “So what, you think Katrina’s not good enough for Naylor?”

“That’s not it at all,” Dr. Ludwig protested, desperate for self-preservation. “If anything, it’s like a rose growing out of a pile of manure.”

At least he was being honest.

Sure, people had the right to fall in love with whoever they wanted, and his buddy wasn’t a bad guy by any means—but in most people’s eyes, too many exes meant you were a “player,” a “heartbreaker.” Especially from a woman’s perspective, that was just unforgivable.

Fortunately, Naylor had always been self-aware. He never dated women who were inexperienced, traditional, or carrying a weighty sense of duty—he just didn’t want to hurt them, simple as that.

But this time, Jamison couldn’t wrap his head around it. Why had Naylor made an exception?

Didn’t he realize what he was getting into with Katrina? She had a law degree and was set to become a lawyer.

And what did that mean? Gift of the gab, sharp as a tack, never lets anything slide, and could turn any argument to her advantage.

Jamison kept all these thoughts to himself, but they must have shown on his face. Ivy, ever perceptive, shot him a look. “Don’t think I don’t know what you're thinking. You really believe Katrina needs to cling to a man to survive? Please. There isn’t a woman alive these days who can’t make it on her own.”

She wanted to stand up for her friend, to show that Katrina could handle herself and, even if things didn’t work out, she wouldn’t cling or hold a grudge.

But Jamison heard something else—a subtle warning. Almost as if Ivy was saying she could get along just fine without him, too.

So he instinctively replied, “But a man can’t live without a woman.”

It wasn’t just flattery. It was a hard truth of life.

A man’s journey is just a passage from his mother to his wife. And if he outlives his partner, chances are he’ll find himself looking for someone new to share his old age with.

Ivy had been lecturing him, but his words caught her off guard. For a moment, she was at a loss.

They locked eyes. Jamison sensed her frustration, and with a small, sheepish smile, he tried to lean in for a kiss to make peace. Ivy was quick to push him away. Jamison frowned, sighing inwardly.

Six months.

Six months with no intimacy. The mere thought was enough to make him miserable.

And as if his misery needed a spotlight, his best friend was starting a new romance—talk about one basking in spring sunshine while the other shivered through a blizzard.

He rolled Ivy over, massaging her arms and legs, trying to help her get comfortable. Just as he finished, his phone rang.

“Hello, Boyd…”

Boyd’s voice came through the line. “Uncle, Emma’s awake.”

Jamison’s tone was calm. “She’s out of danger?”

“Not exactly,” Boyd replied. “The doctor says her lungs are badly infected. The virus has spread through her lymphatic system, her skin’s starting to break down, and there are a whole host of other complications.”