Ivyâs attitude towards Balfour now was a stark contrast to the disinterested figure whoâd stood by the door earlier.
Balfour gazed at her with probing eyes, wondering what happened to her.
Catching his look, Ivy felt a twinge of nervousness, âWhatâs wrong, honey? You donât like the dish?â
âI love it.â Balfour replied, spearing a forkful from his plate and taking a mouthful.
The show must go on in front of his grandparents.
Throughout the meal, Ivy played the part of the doting wife, constantly serving Balfourâs plate with zeal.
Regardless of what she picked, he accepted it without complaint, even though there were. a few dishes he wasnât fond of.
At first, Alyssa suspected they might be having a spat, but seeing them interact so pleasantly eased her worries.
After dinner, Ivy excused herself and retreated to her room. The act was exhausting and far too sappy for her taste. She almost made herself sick!
Fresh from her bath, Ivy saw Balfour coming in.
After drying her hair, she sat down on the edge of the bed. Her voice was light and detached, âGrandma and grandpa havenât gone to their room yet. You should probably head back to the guest room later.â
Balfour wasnât home often. And even when he was, he usually slept in the guest room. They hardly spent any time together in the same space.
He simply replied with a âSure,â and headed for the shower.
When he came out, Ivy was on the balcony with a glass of milk placed on the small table in front of her.
Balfour watched her lonely figure for a moment before sitting down beside her. âWhat was going on with you today?â
Even though Ivy had maintained her role as the perfect wife in front of his grandparents, Balfour could sense something strange.
vy took a sip of her milk, ignoring him. His presence seemed to push her away. She stood up and headed back inside.
His displeasure grew with her silence, and he followed her into the room.
No sooner had Ivy placed her milk on the nightstand than Balfour pinned her down onto the bed!
Before she could react, he was on top of her rendering her immobile. âWhatâs wrong with you? Why are you ignoring me?â
âLet⦠let me go!â Ivy struggled in vain. The disparity in their strength was too great.
With Balfour so close, every inch of her skin he touched seemed to burn. Ivyâs heart raced uncontrollably.
âAnswer me. Why are you giving me the cold shoulder?â
She turned her refusing to meet his gaze. âI havenât. Canât I just not want to talk?â
âWhatâs the matter? Why donât you want to talk?â
âThereâs no reason! And why are you here, Mr. Howard? I thought youâd be spending the evening with some beauty!â
Her sarcastic tone was unmistakable, clearly in a foul mood.
Balfour paused and studied her for a moment. âSo⦠Are you jealous?â
âI am not!â Ivy retorted disdainfully, furrowing her brow and glaring at him. âI just find it funny that someone who warned me to keep my distance from other men is himself the subject of gossip with other women!â