The word “honey” made Ivy’s heart skip a beat. They were so close that she feared her erratic
heartbeat might betray her inner
turmoil.
Dinner was a struggle for Giselle. She could hardly swallow a bite.
After clearing the main course, each guest was served a bowl of creamy mushroom soup. Giselle
spooned the soup stiffly, the flavor bland as chewing wax.
Alyssa was in high spirits, feeling that her goal for the evening had been accomplished.
Upon observing the chemistry between Balfour and Ivy, any woman with eyes and a brain would know
it was time to throw in the towel!
“Giselle, you don’t seem to have much of an appetite, do you? Or is the mushroom soup not to your
liking?” Alyssa asked, her voice dripping with honeyed concern.
Snapping back to reality, Giselle shoveled a hefty spoonful into her mouth. “No, it’s delicious! Hiss…”
When she looked up again, her eyes were brimming with tears. She spat out a burned tongue tip, her
voice muffled and pitiful. “Balfour, it hurts.”
By then, Alyssa had already sent someone for some ice.
“If it really hurts, just close your mouth and talk less.”
Ivy’s advice was sincere, but her tone was indifferent. She could tell Giselle was faking it but could not
be bothered to call her out. Balfour stood beside Ivy, impassively watching the scene unfold.
Giselle felt even more aggrieved as tears streamed down her cheeks.
“It hurts…”
“Alright, don’t talk. The ice will numb the pain.” Before Giselle could continue her act, Alyssa had
already stuffed a piece of ice into her mouth.
Now, Giselle truly could not speak!
“Giselle, you need to be more careful. Even mushroom soup can burn you,” Alyssa chided, not missing
the chance to teach a lesson.
Mute with ice in her mouth, Giselle’s inner monologue was anything but gracious. “This old bat just
can’t pass up any chance to school me, huh?”
Now, forced to maintain a stiff smile with ice lodged in her cheek, she looked utterly comical and
uncomfortable.
Balfour and Ivy exchanged glances. Ivy shrugged. “Do you want to take Giselle to the hospital?”
Balfour’s gaze darkened, and he ignored her.
Ivy snorted. This meal had been tough on her stomach, but she noticed that Alyssa did not seem to
fancy Giselle as much as Giselle claimed.
“Balfour, why don’t you take Ivy to rest once you’re done? I’ll look after Giselle here. She’ll be fine with
me. I’ll have someone take her home later.” Alyssa spoke up, then turned to Giselle, saying, “Are you
feeling any better, dear? If so, join me for a stroll in the garden.”
Giselle could not refuse Alyssa’s invitation with half a piece of ice still melting in her mouth. Meanwhile,
Alyssa did not even wait for her and headed outside.
Giselle had no choice but to follow quickly,
She suspected that deep down, Alyssa was worried about her grandson and wanted to distance her
from Balfour.
This thought made Giselle even more determined. If given another chance to be alone with Balfour, she
was confident she could win his heart back from Ivy.
In the garden, Alyssa’s demeanor darkened, starkly contrasting the warm facade she presented in front
of Ivy.
With polite caution, Giselle asked, “Ma’am, did you want to speak with me privately?”
Giselle maintained a proper demeanor in Alyssa’s presence, but her true thoughts were her own
secret.
Alyssa’s smile held a hint of authority that Giselle could not begin to match.
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