The Villainess Needs a Hug (Ivy Windsor) novel Chapter 691

Though he was a doctor, at this moment, he was simply a worried husband.

Jamison ignored her question, focusing only on what mattered to him. “How are you feeling? Any better?”

Ivy tried to sound casual, but the pain growing steadily inside her made it impossible to pretend. She managed a weak, slightly embarrassed smile and admitted, “The anesthesia’s worn off. It’s starting to hurt… but I can handle it.”

He squeezed her hand gently, his face full of concern. “You need to rest flat for the next couple of days. If the pain gets worse, we’ll have to go with pain medication.” He looked at her as if her pain was his own.

The tenderness between them didn’t go unnoticed by the nurses nearby, who exchanged surprised glances.

“Is that really Dr. Ludwig we’re seeing?”

“I heard he’s a different man since he got married.”

“Well, can you blame him? Anyone married to such a beautiful woman would spoil

her rotten.”

“True enough. Even the strongest men have a weakness for a lovely wife.”

“Hush! Keep your voice down–Professor Ludwig is right there.”

The young nurses, faces half–hidden by masks and surgical caps, let their eyes do the gossiping. Since Dr. Ludwig couldn’t tell who was who, they whispered right in front of him, enjoying their little secret.

Jamison heard every word but paid them no mind. He’d long since grown used to the rumors that had swirled around him these past months–everything from “hopelessly devoted husband” and “henpecked” to “the stone–faced genius finally fell” and “the ice prince melted.” All of it amused him.

But Ivy, overhearing their chatter, felt her cheeks burn. She nudged his hand, whispering, “You should go. I’ll be fine in a minute.”

He refused, tightening his hold on her hand just as a friendly nurse bustled over. “Ma’am, we’re taking you to your room now.”

“Thank you,” Ivy murmured, her energy flagging. She closed her eyes, but her fingers stayed entwined with Jamison’s, clinging to his warmth.

20-08

Out in the hallway, Davina and Adela Ludwig hurried over, and Katrina arrived just II time. All three women gathered around as Ivy, pale and exhausted, winced in

discomfort. Worry clouded every face.

Ivy forced her eyes open and managed a faint, “I’m fine,” before drifting off again.

Jamison said, “The surgery went perfectly. Why don’t you all go home and rest?”

He wasn’t worried about his mother waiting half the day in the hospital–he was more concerned that this crowd’s fussing would stop his wife from getting the rest she needed.

Katrina, ever perceptive, caught his meaning and gave a brisk nod before leaving. The older woman looked a bit put out, feeling her son was taking Ivy’s side a little too much. But with Davina smoothing things over, she soon calmed down.

The surgery had gone smoothly, but Ivy’s recovery was a different story. She endured every post–op complication in the book–pain, a lingering fever, even a nasty infection. The doctors suspected all this was because her immune system hadn’t fully bounced back after her splenectomy. Her strength was low, so everything hit harder.

Fortunately, Jamison was her guardian angel. He assembled the best medical team for her, and after a week, things finally stabilized.

Unable to move much, Ivy depended on Jamison for everything–meals, washing up, helping her change. On the rare days he was too busy, a nurse would step in. After a month of this, Jamison looked noticeably thinner, with new lines at the corners of his eyes.

Ivy was deeply moved, but she also felt guilty seeing how much he was giving up for her. The wounds of her past, inflicted by her own family, were healed by this man–so cold and distant on the outside, yet fiercely tender at heart.

The weekend arrived, bringing a crisp, clear day. The air was chilly, but sunlight streamed through the windows, filling the room with warmth.

Jamison had a rare break from work and joined Ivy at lunchtime “atching a nap in her hospital room. But she’d already slept that morning and wasn’t tired. All she wanted was to sit by the window, soaking up the sun with a book in hand.

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