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Ivy stiffened instantly, her gaze snapping to Christian in shock. They had agreed not to reveal their relationship, yet here he was, exposing it in front of her parents. A jolt of panic shot through her, but as the moment passed, relief settled in—at least he hadn’t said ‘her husband’.
Knowing Christian, that word must be sitting on the tip of his tongue, held back with sheer force.
Patty beamed, and even her father smiled approvingly. "How about you come to our house for dinner, then?" Adam suggested.
"Dad, maybe some other day—" Ivy started, but Christian nodded before she could finish.
But Christian nodded without hesitation, turning slightly to offer them the way. "My car is here. Let’s all go together."
Ivy had no choice but to follow them, though she shot Christian a scowl. Clearly, this wasn’t what she wanted.
Christian, noticing her reluctance, leaned in closer, his warm hand sliding into hers again. "They were going to find out sooner or later. It’s the same thing," he murmured.
She still glared at him.
Dinner at Ivy’s house was peaceful. Their apartment was small but cozy, nestled in a quiet area. It was the place Ivy had spent her entire life.
As they talked over dinner, her parents bombarded Christian with questions about his career, and his life in general. By the time the meal ended, they seemed happy with him.
Later, Ivy and Patty stepped out to buy a few things, and Adam got busy with some papers. Meanwhile, Christian, left to himself, wandered inside the house, eventually stepping into a bedroom.
Ivy’s scent lingered in the air. Photos of her were scattered across the walls—capturing her from childhood to the present. His lips curled into a soft smile as he moved closer, tracing his fingers over the frames. Little Ivy was just as adorable as the Ivy standing beside him now.
His gaze then landed on a photo album resting on the table. He picked it up and sat on the bed, flipping through the pages. The pictures chronicled Ivy’s life from her teenage years to young adulthood.
But then—his hands froze.
Among the pages, tucked between pictures of Ivy, was a photo that didn’t belong to her.
It was him.
A photograph of himself from five years ago.
The picture was taken from afar but was remarkably clear. He was smiling at something, completely unaware he was being photographed.
Surprised, he pulled the photo out, studying it closely. Then, casually flipping it over, his breath hitched.
On the back, in red ink, were the scribbled words:
‘I’m in love with Christian Evans.’
A small heart was drawn next to it.
Christian’s entire body went still. His heart pounded, his pulse quickening. A rush of emotions—thrill, happiness, shock—electrified every inch of him.
Just then, Ivy’s voice drifted from outside.
"I’ll place these in the kitchen, Mom. You can go rest now."
Snapping out of his daze, Christian quickly slipped the photo into his pocket, stood up, and walked out of the room.
When he entered the hall, Ivy’s parents had already disappeared into their bedroom, leaving just the two of them. She was in the open kitchen, quietly unloading vegetables from the bag, completely unaware of the storm brewing behind him.
A startled gasp escaped her lips, but he didn’t loosen his grip. One hand pressed firmly against the wall beside her head, the other securing her waist, holding her in place. His face was pale, but his eyes burned with something raw. Something she couldn’t quite name.
"Ivy," his voice was low, strained. "Were you in love with me five years ago?"
A beat of silence passed before she turned her head away, avoiding his gaze, her fingers trembling against his chest. Then, with forced indifference, she pushed against him.