The Villainess Needs a Hug (Ivy Windsor) novel Chapter 898

Ivy was momentarily stunned. "I..."

"Yes, let their mother decide!" Danny surprisingly agreed. "Ivy is highly educated. She should pick the names."

Naturally, Jamison had zero objections to his wife naming the babies.

However, Ivy suddenly felt a massive surge of pressure.

She racked her brain for another entire day. By the time night fell and the room was finally quiet—free of the elders and visiting relatives—she looked up at her husband, who was sitting by her bed feeding her fruit. "How about Floyd and Denis?"

"Done," he agreed without a single second of hesitation, fully supporting his wife's choice.

He couldn't bear to see her stress over this any longer. Getting it settled quickly was for the best.

Ivy was a little surprised. "You don't want to think about it for a bit? Or maybe ask your parents for their opinion tomorrow?"

"No need. Floyd and Denis sound grand and elegant, and the meanings are perfect." Jamison backed her unconditionally.

A smile broke across Ivy's face. "If I wanted to name them Fido and Spot, would you still agree?"

Jamison chuckled, continuing to feed her as he nodded. "You birthed them. You have absolute veto power."

Looking at him, a profound warmth washed over Ivy's heart.

Glancing over at the two brothers sleeping peacefully in their cribs, she said softly, "They're so well-behaved. Even the maternity nurses said they're easy to manage. Looks like your worries were for nothing."

Jamison looked toward the cribs, studying the two nearly identical little faces. He frowned. "It's only been a few days. Let's see how they are in a few weeks... or maybe a few years."

Truth be told, the power of genetics was terrifyingly strong.

Or perhaps it was simply a case of a father knowing his sons best.

Sure enough, just a few days later, the rapidly growing boys started throwing tantrums.

Ivy was recovering well. Five days later, she transferred from the hospital to an astronomically priced, luxury postpartum retreat.

Whether it was the change of environment or some other mysterious reason, the moment they moved in, the twins stopped being easy.

They ate well and slept well, but the second they were awake, they demanded to be held.

Holding them while sitting down wasn't enough. Standing still wasn't enough, either.

You had to walk around the room while holding them and constantly talk to them.

Their big, beautiful dark eyes would dart around, curiously taking in this strange new world, even though they couldn't possibly comprehend any of it yet.

And the most maddening part was that if one started crying, the other would seamlessly join in, regardless of whether he had been fast asleep or mid-meal.

When Katrina visited Ivy at the retreat, she found two maternity nurses pacing the room, bouncing the boys and chatting to them in gentle voices.

One was saying, "Look at this! This is your stroller."

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