Finn didn’t love her; marrying her was a matter of convenience, securing a housewife who could keep
the household running smoothly.
But Tessa knew she wasn’t unique in this predicament; there were plenty of women in her shoes. This
gnawing fear that Finn might one day divorce her kept her on constant edge.
In a move of calculated sacrifice, she chose to leverage her daughter, Ivy, to cement her own status as
Mrs. Dunhill,
“What do you want me to do?” Ivy knew her mother wouldn’t reach out without reasons. Tessa’s call
must have had a
motive.
Tessa let out a weary sigh, “Could you accompany your sister to meet with that boss? Just once, a little
chat to clear the air. Once this is sorted, I promise, I won’t bother you again.”
As expected, Tessa was here on account of that issue.
“Fine, but this is the last time,” Ivy said before hanging up.
Despite suspecting her mother might be pretending to be guilty, Ivy chose to help Tessa one final time.
As a daughter, she decided this would be the last time she did her duty, no more after this.
Later that evening, Clara texted her with the details for the meeting. It was set for the next day. The
urgency was palpable; Clara couldn’t wait.
Ivy didn’t respond to the message but went on to deliver milk to Dean and Alyssa. As she was leaving,
she bumped into Balfour, who was on his way back to his room.
“I… was just sending some milk to Grandma and Grandpa,” she explained.
Balfour nodded and entered his room, with Ivy following.
The feeling of sharing a room with him still made Ivy uneasy. “I’ve taken a shower, so I’ll just crash on
the couch.”
“Take the bed,” Balfour called out, stretching out on the bed himself, “After all we had slept together
before.”
Ivy’s cheeks reddened at the memory, “I don’t think it’s necessary, I’d rather…”
“Grandma might come visit us sometime. Relax, I’ve got no interest in touching you,” Balfour said,
closing his eyes.
Left with little choice, Ivy bit her lip and gingerly lay down on the bed, maintaining a careful distance
from Balfour. She slept on the very edge to avoid touching him.
It was an uneasy night; sharing a bed when she was sober was far different from the last time when
she had been drunk. She spent the night tense and barely slept.
Waking up the next morning, Ivy felt stiff and groggy.
After freshening up and changing clothes, she descended the stairs to find the elders having breakfast
in the dining
room.
“Good morning, Grandpa, Grandma.”
Ivy joined them at the table. “Has Balfour gone to work?”
“He left for work already. He saw you were sleeping soundly and told us not to wake you,” Alyssa said
with a smile, signaling the maid to pour some milk for lvy. “Did you sleep well last night, dear?”
Ivy looked up, meeting Alyssa’s knowing gaze, and felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. Alyssa
must have been hinting at something more.
She bowed her head to focus on her breakfast, murmuring, “Quite well, Grandma.
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