It was undeniable that Ivy harbored a flicker of hope when she asked the question that hung between them.
What did she mean to Balfour?
There he was, looking at her with a resigned sigh. "Giselle and I, we grew up together, but we're not childhood sweethearts, just friends."
He was explaining himself to her.
Ivy's heart skipped a beat. His explanation, did it mean he genuinely cared about how she felt?
Realizing this, Ivy internally cursed. If things kept going this way, she feared she might actually fall for Balfour!
But that was simply out of the question.
They were from two different worlds. He was born with a silver spoon, and she, well, she was from the wrong side of the tracks.
How could there ever be a future for them?
"Alright, I got it," Ivy replied, not dwelling on the subject. "Let's hurry up. Grandma and Grandpa must be waiting."
Balfour seemed somewhat dissatisfied with her response. He had explained himself to keep her from feeling down, yet she did not seem to take much stock in it.
As they approached the house, Ivy caught sight of Dean and Alyssa tending to their flower beds.
She abruptly stopped, latching onto Balfour's arm.
He looked at her, puzzled, "What's up?"
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