The Villainess Needs a Hug (Ivy Windsor) novel Chapter 842

“Okay.”

Ivy was home just after five. She was in a good mood, and with a few lighter days on her schedule, she decided to look up a couple of new recipes online to show off for a certain someone.

She had just finished prepping the ingredients when she heard a noise from the living room. When she ran out to see who it was, she was surprised to find Jamison already home.

“It’s not even six yet. Are you clocking out earlier and earlier these days?” Ivy asked, glancing curiously at the wall clock.

Jamison slipped off his shoes and looked back at her with a smile. “What, not used to me being home early?”

“Yeah, it feels like you’re about to lose your job.”

Still smiling, Jamison walked into the living room and stopped at the kitchen doorway, leaning down to kiss her. “If I do lose my job, you can support me, right?”

“No problem!” Ivy said brightly. “I was just about to tell you, I’ve gotten calls from bigwigs at three or four securities firms and investment banks these past two days, all offering me high-paying positions. I haven’t even graduated and I’m already a hot commodity. Supporting you in the future will be a piece of cake.”

As she turned back to the kitchen, Jamison followed her in, curious. “So, have you decided which firm you’ll join?”

“Not yet. I figure if I wait a little longer, something even better might come along.”

“Right,” Jamison said. He looked at the prepared ingredients on the counter, surprised. “Are we cooking tonight?”

“We are,” Ivy said, turning to him. “What, afraid to eat my cooking?”

Jamison rolled up his sleeves to join her, a playful smirk on his lips. “As long as you’re with me, what’s there to be afraid of?”

The weather was clear, and as spring turned to summer, the days grew longer. At six o’clock, the sunlight outside was still bright. The late afternoon sun slanted through the window, casting a warm glow that split between the cutting board and the delicate curve of her cheek.

Jamison fumbled with the ingredients, his gaze occasionally drifting to his wife. He watched the sweet, gentle smile on her face, the way the sunlight seemed to linger on her eyelashes, unwilling to leave. A deep, aching affection swelled in his chest.

Earlier today, he had discussed with several professors the idea of going to Europe for treatment. He’d spent several years in Germany during medical school and had a network of contacts there. Even his professors in the States knew medical experts and heads of oncology research labs abroad.

Germany was an excellent choice. Not only could he access the world’s most advanced cancer treatments, but he could also keep his condition a secret from everyone here.

But—

The thought of being apart from the woman he loved for half a year was unbearable. Half a year was an eternity. Half a month, even half a day, felt like too much.

“What are you daydreaming about? Are you going to peel those few cloves of garlic until the end of time?” Ivy’s oil was already hot in the pan, waiting for the aromatics. She turned to hurry him along.

Jamison snapped back to the present. “Right, right. Done.”

He handed her the minced garlic, and she gave him another look. “You seem a million miles away.”

“No, I’m just not very skilled in the kitchen,” Jamison excused himself, then stuck to her like a child, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

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