The Villainess Needs a Hug (Ivy Windsor) novel Chapter 843

Jamison nodded, satisfied, and raised his glass to gently clink against hers. “To the chef. Thank you for your hard work. Cheers.”

“Cheers!” Ivy’s smile was radiant.

They took their first bites and were pleasantly surprised to find the food was actually quite good. Ivy’s pride swelled again.

“I always thought I had zero talent for cooking, but it seems that exceptional people are exceptional in every way. If I keep at it, I bet I could become a fantastic cook.”

Jamison adored her confident, almost cocky nature, and her ability to never get bogged down by self-doubt. Being with her was always so easy and joyful; it could wash away the fatigue of a long day at work.

Halfway through the meal, Ivy suddenly remembered Sophia’s visit. “Oh, right, Sophia said she wants to take us out to dinner tomorrow. Are you free?”

“She’s coming again?”

“Yeah, for the store renovation. She has to pop in every so often to check on the progress.”

Jamison wasn’t in the mood to see friends. He made an excuse. “I’m not sure I’ll be free tomorrow. You should go.”

“Okay.” Ivy knew he wasn’t keen on socializing, so she didn’t press him.

Jamison cleaned up after dinner while Ivy curled up on the sofa, petting their cat. Watching the man who’d been born with a silver spoon now learning to do chores, she was filled with a profound sense of emotion. This simple, everyday warmth was the very essence of a home, a feeling of deep security. She gazed at his busy silhouette in the kitchen, an involuntary smile spreading across her face as she cuddled the cat even closer.

When Jamison finished, he came over with a plate of fruit, as was his habit, and naturally held a piece to her lips. Ivy opened her mouth to take it, then pulled him down to sit beside her on the sofa.

A classic Hollywood film was playing on the projector screen, and they settled in together to watch. Jamison toyed with her fingers, mentally rehearsing how to bring up his trip, trying to find a way that wouldn't sound abrupt or raise her suspicions.

Basking in happiness, Ivy would occasionally feed a piece of fruit to her husband behind her. The next time she turned to offer him a piece, she found him staring blankly into space. She nudged him. “What are you thinking about? You’ve been so quiet.”

Jamison sat up a little straighter, his hands tightening around her slim waist. “Ivy, there’s something I need to discuss with you.”

“Okay, what is it?”

“There’s a training opportunity at the hospital. In Germany.”

Ivy’s hand, holding a piece of fruit, froze. She looked at him, and suddenly his reticence all evening made perfect sense.

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