Ivy’s POV
The limo rolled to a stop, the glow of the red carpet lights pouring through the tinted windows. I kept my gaze forward, my jaw cleriched tight,
This wasn’t the place for tears or anger at least not the kind anyone could see.
“Ivy, are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft enough to almost make me forget why I hated him right now. Alimost.
“You know why I’m here,” I replied curtly, my tone sharp and biting.
He looked down, his face shadowed with shame. “Ivy, I’d do anything to make you forgive me.”
I whipped my head toward him, glaring. “You should have thought about that before you took her to bed.”
He exhaled heavily, rubbing his temples as if trying to erase his mistakes. “I have no memory of that night. Ivy, I’d never do anything to hurt you.”
Silence fell between us, broken only by the frenzy of voices outside and the flashing lights from the cameras. Security had formed a barricade around the car. My heart ached, but my anger was louder.
“And yet you did,” I muttered, my voice barely audible but loud enough for him to hear.
“Ivy…” His voice trailed off, pained and uncertain.
“For the sake of appearances, we’ll play the part tonight – the perfect couple. But that’s all it will ever be now.” The words hurt as they left my mouth, but I had to say them. Maybe if I repeated them enough, I’d start to believe them.
I glanced at him. His eyes were sad and haunted, his dark hair a disheveled mess that fell over his face. For a fleeting moment, I wanted to reach out, to smooth it back, to hold on to the man I’d grown to love- the man I thought loved me.
His voice interrupted my thoughts, resolute, yet defeated. “Whatever you want, Ivy.”
The door opened, and the frenzy outside hit us like a wave. Cameras flashed in our faces, forcing me to squint against the bright lights.
“What are you wearing, Ivy Whitfield?” someone shouted from the crowd.
“Is there a theme for tonight?” another asked. “You’re matching colors–was this deliberate?”
“Mr. Sterling, the wine is named Ivy. Did your wife have anything to do with its creation?”
“Are there any special guests in attendance?” Their voices overlapped in chaotic shouts as the crowd surged closer.
Asher stepped out first, turning back to help me with my dress. The crowd cheered delightedly, like we were royalty.
We were the perfect couple, and they were oblivious to the storm between us. I forced a smile, though irritation simmered beneath the surface.
Asher leaned in, stealing a quick kiss at the corner of my mouth. The gesture was so calculated, so frustratingly perfect for the cameras. He offered his arm, and I hesitated before slipping my hand into the crook of his elbow.
We posed, waved, and smiled like everything was perfect. Like I wasn’t holding back every ounce of rage I felt toward him. When we finally stepped inside, I hissed under my breath, “What was that about?”
He smirked, feigning innocence. “What was what about?”
“You know what I’m talking about,” I said through gritted teeth, maintaining a smile for the onlookers.
He slid his arm around my waist, pulling me close. “We’re keeping up appearances, remember?”
1/3
Chapter 88
Before I could retort, my eyes caught sight of someone across the room- Dexter, My expression softened involuntarily, and waved him overs followed my gaze, and I felt the tension ripple through him.
*Excuse me, husband. I have a guest to attend to,” I said sweetly, grabbing a champagne flute from a passing waiter. “Enjoy the party.
Without waiting for a response, I raised my glass to him in mock cheer and sauntered off toward Dexter. Even as I moved away, I could feet Asher’s gaze burning into my back, heavy with anger and jealousy.
“Are you sure I didn’t overdo it, even a little, by inviting him here?” I asked Janine for the umpteenth time.
She turned around to glance at Dexter. I stared too – he was taking pictures of the food laid out on the table. He spotted us staring, broke into a smile, and
waved.
Janine waved enthusiastically. My wave was small, the smile on my lips a mask hiding the worry on my face.
Janine took a sip of her wine. “I think he fits right in. See? He’s taking pictures just like every other photographer here. No one thinks it’s…
“Jay, you know what I mean.” I playfully tapped her arm. “What with Asher being-” I stole a glance at him. He was glaring at me. “Don’t look now, but Asher is mean–mugging-”
Janine turned before I could finish. She saw him and waved with a big smile.
I sighed.
She turned back to me. “Hey, Ivy. You don’t need anyone’s validation, but if you’re ever in doubt, never forget that I’m here for you. I’ll always support you, even if it’s against my big–headed brother. I love him, but he had no right to treat you like he did.”
I smiled at her. “Thank you so much, Janine. I appreciate all you do for me.”
She pulled me into a hug. “You look like a snack in that dress, though! Asher and Dexter are going to have a hard time focusing on anything else.”
I smiled, but it didn’t quite reach my eyes.
She noticed, drawing close and taking my hand. “Ivy, be honest with me, and yourself. Why did you invite him?” She glanced at Dexter, who had moved on from the food platter and was photographing guests.
I exhaled, tucking stray strands of hair behind my ear. “He’s a struggling photographer trying to break into the industry. I might have jokingly agreed to help him find opportunities.”
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