The doctor scolded her outright.
“This is reckless.
The skin here is thin, the nerves are dense this is going to hurt more than you can imagine without anesthesia.
And if you flinch mid-stitch…”
Naomi tried to talk her out of it too, but Ivy held firm, and the doctor eventually gave in, calling in extra nurses to hold her steady instead.
Naomi covered her eyes, unable to watch the needle go in.
She couldn’t fathom what that kind of pain actually felt like.
She’s not made of stone.
This is too much to ask of anyone.
Ivy blacked out more than once from the pain, sweat soaking through her hair faster than the nurses could wipe it away, all of them quietly stunned by how much she was willing to endure.
This isn’t human.
Even through the agony, the thought of her baby made it feel worth it.
By the time the stitches were finished, she looked wrung out, barely holding on.
Naomi hovered, terrified.
“Director, are you okay?”
Ivy shook her head, too drained to speak.
The doctor gave her instructions.
“Two more IV bags, then an hour of observation.
If nothing changes, you’re cleared to go home.
Come back in a month for the stitches.
The nurse will walk your family through wound care.”
Once the doctor left, Naomi turned and found Nathaniel standing in the corridor, expression carved from stone, staring toward the room without stepping inside.
Even standing still, he radiated something that kept everyone at arm’s length.
Nurses passing by kept glancing at him, clearly taken, and just as clearly too intimidated to say a word.
“Mr.
Wolfe.” Naomi flinched under the weight of his stare.
There was no escaping this conversation now, so she edged closer and reported carefully.
“The cut’s deep, she needed five or six stitches.
She refused the anesthetic and nearly passed out from the pain.
Would you like to go in and see her?”
Before she’d even finished, Nathaniel’s expression shifted.
“No anesthesia for a facial wound?
Is she trying to hurt herself on purpose?”
He abandoned any pretense of composure and walked straight into the room aggressive in bearing, yet somehow silent as he pushed the door open, the contradiction obvious even to Naomi.
Naomi opened her mouth, then thought better of it.
These two.
Each one, harder to read than the last.
He clearly cares about her.
So why does he act like this keeping his girlfriend on staff, letting the whole office watch it happen?
She wisely decided not to interrupt whatever was about to happen, sent a quick message to Ivy’s phone letting her know she’d stepped out, and left them to it.
Inside the room, Ivy lay curled on the hospital bed, one arm resting instinctively over her stomach.
Her sleep was restless, sweat beading across her forehead, pain bleeding through even into her dreams, tears slipping free without her waking.
This was a version of Ivy that Nathaniel had never once been allowed to see stubborn as she was, she’d never once let herself be this fragile in front of him.
Something in his chest tightened at the sight, and he crossed the room on quiet feet, careful not to wake her.
“You went out of your way to get away from me.” He thought back to standing in the lobby at Ashford General, having sent his assistant off with Chloe on autopilot, wandering the halls without finding a trace of Ivy anywhere.
Marcus had eventually confirmed that she’d deliberately gone to Riverside Memorial instead.
Further away.
Harder to reach.
She’d risked a wound this serious just to put distance between them, careless with herself in a way that unsettled him more than he wanted to admit.
He told himself not to waste concern on someone who clearly wanted nothing to do with him and somehow his feet had carried him here anyway.
He’d meant to confront her the second he arrived.
Instead, seeing her like this, all he felt was a dull ache in his chest.
Watching her sweat through the pain, unable to settle, terrified she might roll over and press against the wound, he sat carefully on the edge of the bed, cupped her cheek with one broad hand to keep her still, and patted the blanket awkwardly with the other, trying clumsily to soothe her.
Ivy stirred, some part of her recognizing the familiar scent, and leaned into his palm without waking, rubbing her cheek against it like it was safe there.
She drifted into a deeper, calmer sleep with his hand as her pillow.
A nurse walked in on the scene and couldn’t help the small wave of envy that hit her.
Do men like this actually exist?
“Sir, are you family?
We need someone here for the wound care instructions.”
Nathaniel kept his voice low.
“I’m her husband.”
The nurse’s eyes went soft with admiration.
“Your wife might be the toughest patient I’ve ever treated.
Stitches on the face hurt worse than almost anywhere else on the body, and she didn’t make a sound.”
Nathaniel stared at Ivy’s pale, still face, lost somewhere in thought.
She’s terrified of pain.
She always has been.
He remembered, early in the marriage, her slicing her finger open trying to cook something to please him and rather than say a word to him about it, she’d locked herself in the bathroom and cried through bandaging it alone, eyes swollen afterward, still insisting nothing was wrong.
So what exactly made her refuse anesthesia over something like this?
Once the nurse finished going over aftercare and left, glancing back more than once on her way out, Nathaniel reached out and traced the edge of the gauze along Ivy’s cheek without quite meaning to, leaning in for a closer look.
His breath landed warm against her forehead.
Ivy’s brow furrowed, and her eyes snapped open to find his face inches from hers, magnified and unmistakable.
Instinct took over and she swung at him.
Nathaniel caught her fist easily, sitting back with practiced calm.
“Your sleeping posture’s terrible.
The gauze shifted.”
The smell of antiseptic pulled Ivy the rest of the way into focus, and she stared at him, startled.
“Why are you here?”
Shouldn’t he be at Chloe’s side right now, playing devoted?
Nathaniel’s expression cooled instantly.
“What you’d genuinely rather not see me?
You put on a much better act before all of this.
We’re not even divorced yet.”
Is that how eager you are to finally drop the mask?
Ivy knew pushing back would only escalate things, so she shook her head and said nothing further, sealing her mouth shut.
To Nathaniel, the silence read as something else entirely like she couldn’t even be bothered to fake civility anymore.
Ungrateful.
Completely ungrateful.
“Don’t read into this.
I’m not here because I was worried about you.” He rose abruptly, voice gone flat and cold.
“You were injured on the job.
Basic decency required I check whether you were still breathing.”
Ivy nodded.
“Understood.
I appreciate the concern for your staff, President Wolfe.
I’m fine, so I won’t keep you any longer.”
“You” His hands curled into fists, fury simmering just beneath the surface, but he looked at the bandage on her face and swallowed it down, turning to leave with his expression locked cold.
I shouldn’t have let myself go soft over her.
If it weren’t for that face…
Right.
That’s all this is.
Concern for the face, nothing more.
Once she was sure he’d actually left, Ivy let out a slow breath and rested a hand over her stomach.
“It’s okay, baby.
If we can’t win this fight, we don’t have to fight it.
Mommy’s getting us out soon.”
An hour later, cleared and discharged, Ivy walked out of the hospital alone.
The family driver was already waiting curbside, waving her over.
“Mrs.
Wolfe, the boss had me come get you.
How’s the injury?”
“Appreciate it.
I’m alright now.” Ivy didn’t refuse the ride.
As far as the outside world knew, she and Nathaniel were still husband and wife, and turning down a gesture like this in front of the staff would only invite more questions.
Once in the car, she turned Nathaniel’s strange behavior over in her mind, then set it aside and sent a message to Jasper instead, asking him to help find a new place ideally somewhere close to the care facility, so she could look in on her mother between everything else.
Once her mother’s surgery was behind them next month, she intended to sever every last thread connecting her to this city.