Especially not here in the bathroom, with a six-year-old child sleeping right next door.
Ivy instantly snapped back to reality. She shoved Alaric away and scrambled to her feet, her small face burning red as she babbled incoherently:
"I-I see you're doing just fine. It's late, and I need to stay with Stella. You... you handle this yourself. I'm leaving."
She fled the room, slamming the bathroom door shut with a loud bang.
That resounding slam thoroughly shattered Alaric's heart.
He sat on the toilet seat, motionless for a long time.
Had Ivy just rejected him again?
But she had clearly been cooperating at first.
She obviously wasn't disgusted by him. She had closed her eyes and kissed him back.
So why, after just a few moments, did she push him away and run off alone?
What exactly was Ivy trying to say?
Did she still have feelings for him or not?
Frustrated and conflicted, Alaric slowly got dressed and stepped lightly into the bedroom.
Seeing that Ivy was already lying down next to the child, he decided to test the waters one more time. He climbed into bed and lay down right beside her.
Ivy was actually faking sleep.
Her heart was still racing out of control, and her body was practically burning up. There was no way she could sleep.
She thought she would feel better once Mr. Foster left.
But then she felt a sudden shift on the mattress.
Had Mr. Foster just gotten into bed?
Remembering that Stella was right there beside her, Ivy opened her eyes to see that he was indeed settling in right next to her.
She quickly pushed at him, lowering her voice as much as possible to warn him:
"What are you doing? Stella is right here."
Alaric leaned in, his warm breath ghosting over her ear.
"So if Stella wasn't here, I'd be allowed to sleep next to you?"
Ivy's face flushed even darker as she refused.
"No, you can't. Go away."



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