Chapter 9

Ivy swallowed down the bitterness clawing at her throat, forcing her expression into one of quiet vulnerability,

She lowered her gaze, her voice soft and filled with carefully measured concern.

“Atlas, I’m just worried about you,” she murmured. “You haven’t eaten or slept in days. This isn’t good for you. I believe Celeste will come back–she just needs time.”

The mention of her name made the shadows in Atlas Whitmore’s eyes darken.

His jaw clenched.

“Ivy,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “From now on, let’s not see each other anymore. I don’t want any more misunderstandings.”

Ivy’s breath caught. Her head snapped up, disbelief flashing in her eyes.

“Atlas, we’ve known each other for so many years. How can you just cut me off like this?”

But he wasn’t even looking at her. His gaze remained fixed on the wedding portrait in front of him.

image of Celeste and him,

of warmth. “You’re married. And I’m married, too.

who had finally stopped lying to himself. “I love her. I can’t

slap to Ivy’s face.

I’m the one you love! It’s always been

ragged, her

just “pity* her! Don’t you see?

abruptly, her chest heaving.

he saw Ivy–not as the unattainable woman he had once chased after, not as the person he had once put on a pedestal–but as

to hold

Ivy love him? The thought struck him

had she chosen to marry

22:34

of Love,

71 1%

Chapter 9

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