The Villainess Needs a Hug (Ivy Windsor) novel Chapter 872

Knowing his wife was displeased with him diving back into work so soon, Jamison put down his glass and walked slowly toward her. He wrapped her in a gentle embrace, his expression one of complete surrender. "My recovery is only going so well because you're taking such good care of me. As for a few laps downstairs, I think I'll pass."

*Such a smooth talker,* Ivy thought to herself. In reality, she hadn't done much of the caretaking; that credit belonged to the doctors and the private nurse. All she provided was emotional support.

She savored his embrace and the familiar scent of him, but mindful of his condition, she gently coaxed him, "Alright, now that you're done, you should get back to bed. Don't get restless just because you're feeling a little better."

"Not yet," Jamison said, taking her hand and leading her to the sofa. He sat down, his gaze dropping to her abdomen. "How are you feeling today? What did you have for lunch?"

As he spoke, he placed a hand on her belly, his large palm nearly covering it entirely, and stroked it gently. Ever since he found out Ivy was pregnant, this had become a daily ritual-his version of early prenatal bonding.

"Still not much of an appetite. I asked Dr. Beckett, and she said it's all normal. Right now, it's just a lack of appetite, but soon it might turn into full-blown morning sickness."

The thought made Ivy feel an uncharacteristic wave of anxiety. She had always been decisive and composed, able to handle any crisis with grace. But when it came to this little "sprout" inside her, her composure wavered. Her unique medical history, the previous miscarriage, and everyone's high expectations for this baby had unknowingly piled a mountain of pressure on her.

"You're going to the estate tonight. You can get some advice from Davina. She's had three kids, she's an expert," Jamison said comfortingly, pulling her into his arms after his ritualistic belly rub.

"Yes, she's picking me up from the hospital this evening. I'll ask her then."

Ever since Adela had learned of Ivy's pregnancy, she'd been insisting she come visit the family estate. But Ivy had been busy with her dissertation defense and hadn't found the time. Now that it was over, her schedule had finally cleared up, and Davina was also free that evening, so the two sisters-in-law had made a plan to go together.

The afternoon was quiet, and pregnancy had made Ivy drowsy. Leaning against her husband, she started to feel sleepy. Jamison noticed her yawn, his expression softening with affection. He leaned in and pressed a light kiss to her lips, his voice a low, husky whisper. "Sleepy? Why don't you take a nap?"

"Mmm," she hummed, eyes still closed, her voice soft and drowsy as a cat curled in a sunbeam.

Seeing her alone, Ivy asked, "Where's Halley? I thought you were bringing him."

"I had the driver take him straight to the estate," Davina explained. "We can't bring him to the hospital."

"Oh!" Ivy tapped her forehead, the realization dawning on her. "My brain isn't working lately. I completely forgot."

Jamison's hospitalization was still a secret, so of course Halley couldn't know. The little guy would let it slip in a second, and his grandparents would find out instantly.

Jamison, still uneasy about his wife going alone, gave her a final instruction. "If Grandma says anything harsh, just ignore her. But if you can't stand it, feel free to talk back. If you're not happy there, just leave early."