Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Ivy
"Oh, Ivy, my dear, looks like I'm the first one again today." A shaky but warm voice floated over. It was Margaret from the next block—an elderly lady with a full head of silver hair who always wore a neat floral tweed coat.
"Good morning, Margaret. The usual four blueberry muffins?" I straightened up at once, turned around, and gave her a bright smile.
"Of course. My picky little grandson has been counting down the days to Wednesday morning all week.
" She walked up to the counter, inhaling the sweet scent in the air with obvious delight.
"Those chain-store muffins are so lifeless.
But yours? When you bite in, the blueberry juice bursts out and practically dances in your mouth.
The little guy says these are what real, 'living' muffins taste like—too bad they're only a Wednesday special. "
"Thank you. We do have other specials on different days.
I added a bit more lemon zest to today's fresh batch—it gives them a nicer, brighter finish.
" I packed the steaming muffins into a kraft paper bag and stuck a handwritten note on the outside, reminding the child to be careful because they were hot.
"Thank you, dear. Busy today?"
"It's manageable. Business has been good." I relaxed and poured myself a glass of water.
Margaret glanced around the shop. "If it's just you here, it must be tiring. Isn't your husband around?"
"Husband?" I nearly spat out my water. "Margaret, I've always been on my own!"
"Ah," she covered her mouth, "I mean that tall gentleman who's here almost every time I come in, the one who often brings flowers."
I realized she had misunderstood my relationship with Lucas. No wonder—Lucas had been coming by a lot lately.
"No, he's just a good friend," I said, relaxing again.
"A friend?" Margaret's expression turned knowing. "Sweetheart, friends don't look at you the way he does, and they certainly don't fill your shop with flowers—"
"Margaret, you've got the wrong idea. Lucas is kind to everyone, and this shop is partly his—"
Before I could finish, the wind chime on the door tinkled. Lucas walked in wearing a dark gray work shirt, carrying a large bouquet of hydrangeas covered in sparkling dew.
Margaret winked at me with a clear "See? Told you so" look.
I could only smile helplessly.
As she turned to leave, Lucas neatly arranged the flowers in the antique vase on the counter, rolled up his sleeves with practiced ease, and headed toward the back kitchen.
"Lucas, why are you here so early again?" I wiped my hands, a little embarrassed, and followed him.
"A fresh shipment of hydrangeas just came in. I was in the area." His voice was low and steady. He walked to the storage room in the far corner of the kitchen, bent slightly, and hoisted the fifty-pound bag of imported organic flour onto his shoulder.
"Next time something this heavy arrives, wait for me to come in the afternoon. Don't try to handle it yourself." He poured the flour steadily into the sealed bin, dusted off his hands, and turned to look at me.
"I'll be more careful." Damn it. Margaret's words had left me unsure how to face him. I forced a small smile but avoided his eyes.
After we finished the morning prep, I made two simple chicken salads and two cups of oat milk. We sat across from each other, savoring the rare moment of quiet.
"Ivy." Lucas suddenly spoke. "I actually heard what you said earlier at the door."
"Huh?" I was caught off guard.
"You said I'm nice to everyone."
"Oh, that..." I rubbed my nose awkwardly. "Sorry, Lucas. Margaret has a vivid imagination. She—"
"I don't really agree with that," Lucas interrupted, looking straight into my eyes. For some reason, it made my pulse flutter.
What did he mean?
"I'm not like that with everyone, Ivy." He sighed softly as he met my confused gaze.
What was he getting at?
"Ivy." He said my name again, this time in a low, gentle voice.
I looked up, my heart skipping a beat.
"I know... You might not want to hear this right now. But I still need to tell you." Lucas spoke slowly and deliberately. "I have feelings for you, Ivy."
My hand trembled. The salad fork clinked sharply against the edge of the plate.
"You don't have to say anything right now," he continued. "I know you've just come out of a painful chapter. Whether you accept me or not, I'll respect your decision. If it makes you uncomfortable, I can step right back into the friend zone and never cross the line again."
I opened my mouth, but my throat felt tight. Oh my god. Lucas had just confessed to me.
"Lucas, I..."
"You don't need to answer now." He slid the cup of oat milk toward me with a small smile. "I just wanted you to know. You deserve to be loved properly—whether by me or someone else. Losing you is Wentworth's greatest mistake."
I looked at him, trying to steady my racing thoughts. I knew he was serious, and I knew he wouldn't pressure me. But one thought kept spinning in my head: if I said yes now, I'd only be using him as a bandage. I didn't want to do that to him. And... I still hadn't let go of Damian.
"I'm sorry, Lucas..." I lowered my head, staring at the foam in my cup, and gave a self-deprecating smile.
"Right now, I really can't start a new relationship.
The legal paperwork with Robert isn't fully finished yet.
Legally, I'm not even completely free. More importantly, I haven't fully erased that man from my heart.
Accepting you now would be unfair and irresponsible to you. "
A faint shadow crossed Lucas's eyes, but he quickly lifted his head and gave me an incredibly gentle, understanding smile. "It's okay, Ivy. This was my choice. You don't need to feel any pressure or guilt."
He stood up, thoughtfully cleared our plates and washed them, then grabbed his coat. "See you tomorrow," he said softly before stepping out into the night.
I watched his back disappear and finally let the tears well up in my eyes. In that moment, I felt more respect from Lucas than I had ever known. He loved me as an independent, dignified person—not as something to be summoned or dismissed at will.
With Damian, I had always been the one groveling in the dirt.
In college, he was the untouchable heir of the Wentworth family, a legend in the finance department. I was just an ordinary girl scraping by on scholarships and part-time jobs. Our paths should never have crossed.
But at an alumni event, I fell for him at first sight and secretly loved him for four whole years. After graduation, I fought my way into the Wentworth Group, working day and night, studying his every habit, until I became his most capable personal assistant.
So when he finally pursued me, I was dizzy with happiness. I thought my persistence had finally touched him, that he had finally seen me.
In the end, it was nothing but a calculated, absurd contract meant to spite his first love. How ironic.
I touched my still-flat belly. That was why I would never let my child be born into such a cold-blooded family.
"Ivy, things feel a little off between you and Lucas lately?" After I'd been avoiding him for several days, Penny finally couldn't hold back while delivering a new batch of cheese.
"Do they?" I kept my eyes down, busying myself with the caramel.
"Yes! Come on, did something happen between you two?"
Under her relentless gaze, I finally surrendered. "Alright... he confessed."
"What?" Penny yelped. "That idiot finally confessed?"
"Shh! Keep your voice down!" I clapped a hand over her mouth and glanced at Lucas working outside. Thankfully, he didn't seem to have heard.
"Ivy, maybe you're the only one who hasn't noticed, but Lucas has liked you for a long time. Remember what I said before? He treats you differently." Penny winked. "So... what do you think?"
"I only see him as a friend," I said with a bitter smile. "Penny, you know where I'm at. I just want to focus on getting this shop running. And... I don't want to accept anyone else's feelings while my heart is still full of someone else."
Seeing the resolve in my eyes, Penny sighed, then smiled again.
"You're right. Our Ivy needs to live for herself first!" She patted my shoulder. "But Lucas isn't the type to ignore other people's feelings. Since you were honest with him, you don't have to keep avoiding him."
I nodded. "I know. Hey, are we out of ice?"
"I'll go get some." Penny neatly changed the subject.
While waiting for the ice, I decided to make the jam.
The moment I poured the thick caramel apple mixture into the bowl, a rich, buttery, slightly sweet-and-tart steam hit me.
Without warning, a wave of nausea surged from my stomach to my throat. My face drained of color. I didn't even have time to set down the spatula before I spun around and rushed into the small restroom in the back kitchen.
"Ugh—"
I gripped the marble toilet rim with both hands, curling up in misery as I retched violently. Since I hadn't eaten much that morning, only sour liquid came up, burning my throat and esophagus.
A dangerous, heavy pulling sensation tugged deep in my lower belly, sending cold sweat down my back.
A pair of hands offering clean wet wipes and warm water appeared in front of me. It was Lucas. He had come in to deliver fresh vanilla beans and rushed over the moment he heard me.
I took the wipes embarrassedly, rinsed my mouth, and stood up shakily, leaning against the wall. The woman in the mirror looked ghostly pale.
Lucas frowned, staring at me. His gaze slowly traveled downward and stopped on my right hand, which was instinctively pressed protectively over my abdomen.
"Ivy..." His voice was hoarse and trembling. "Are you... pregnant?"
My body went rigid. Just as my mind blanked out, unable to think of how to hide it, the restroom door burst open with a loud bang.
Penny had clearly overheard Lucas's last words. She was still holding the bag of ice from the supermarket. When she saw my stiff, despairing expression, the bag slipped from her hand and hit the floor.
"Oh my god... Ivy! What is going on?"
Penny looked thunderstruck. She rushed forward and grabbed my shoulders. After reading the truth in my eyes, she exploded.
"Damian Wentworth, that bastard! You're carrying his child, and he dares to bring another woman home? No way—I'm calling the legal team right now. I'm going to rip that arrogant face off and make him cough up every penny of child support and Wentworth family shares!"
"No! Penny, don't!"
I collapsed against her, wrapping my arms around her waist as tears finally spilled over. My voice was full of panic and pleading.
"He doesn't know! Please don't tell him! I'm begging you... If Damian finds out, who knows what he'll do. I'm terrified he'll try to take the baby. You know how the Wentworth family operates... I just want to cut all ties with them. This child is mine."
Penny stiffened, then pulled me into a tight hug, her own voice cracking. "But Ivy... you're on your own. The shop isn't even stable yet. Raising a child is going to be so hard..."
"I'm not afraid of hard, Penny."
I lifted my head from her embrace and wiped my tears fiercely.
"This baby was conceived after I decided to leave the manor and sign the divorce papers. He has nothing to do with the Wentworth name and will never be used as a pawn in Damian's games. Even if I have to wash dishes and work three jobs, I can raise him well."
Silence fell over the restroom.
Lucas, who had been standing quietly to the side, turned and walked out without a word. A few seconds later, he returned carrying a high-backed chair with thick cushions and placed it carefully behind me. He gently held my shoulders and helped me sit down.
Then he crouched in front of me, looking up. "Since you've made up your mind, from now on I'll handle all the heavy work—including opening the shop every morning. Ivy, you don't have to push yourself alone anymore. You're not by yourself."
Looking into his sincere eyes, my heart clenched. I was about to refuse when Penny shot me a look.
She sniffed, gave me a mock-stern glare, then smiled. "You heard him. We're investors here—we're not working for free! And when the baby comes, he has to call me godmother!"
"Deal. The godmother role is yours." I smiled through my tears and clasped Penny's hand tightly. For the first time in a long while, the darkness in my heart felt truly lit up.
Twenty minutes later, I was back behind the counter.
Lucas was in the kitchen pouring the caramel apple mixture into molds. Penny was clumsily wiping the display window. It was as if nothing had happened.
The light rain outside had stopped at some point. The air was still filled with the sweet scent of lemon, butter, and cinnamon.
I stood behind the counter, looking down at my slightly rough but strong hands, then at my friends and the little world that was entirely mine.
I gently touched my still-flat belly, and the corners of my mouth lifted into the most relaxed smile I'd had in two years.
One day, Damian might find out about this child. But I hoped that by then, I would already have the strength to protect him.
No more dwelling on it. There were still plenty of orders to fill tomorrow.