Ivy didn't rush to head upstairs when they reached the hospital. Instead, Balfour walked beside her as they strolled around the block to help settle the hearty meal they had just enjoyed.
Lately, her appetite hadn't been great, but tonight, the food had been irresistible, and she'd indulged in a few too many pies. Now, she was feeling the consequences.
"Why stuff yourself like it's Thanksgiving and then complain? Next time, just have a sensible portion," Balfour chided, half-tempted to fetch some antacids from the pharmacy.
Ivy shot him a look. "Didn't you see how happy Granny was seeing me tuck in? I don't often come home, and they were over the moon to have me. It just made everything taste better."
"So, what are you saying? That it's my miserable company that puts you off your food?" Balfour's tone had a playful edge, but there was a hint of genuine annoyance too. After all, he'd been running himself ragged taking care of her.
Surprised, Ivy responded, "Why would you think that? I'm not ungrateful. You've been working so hard, and I can see that you've lost weight. I do appreciate it. Tomorrow, once I'm out of here, it'll be my turn to look after you. You can go to work without a worry, and I'll make sure to spend more time with Grandpa and Granny."
"They've got Mara at home, so they're in good hands. Don't stress yourself. You need to focus on your body," he said, softening.
But Ivy's smile faded. Right, Mara had been around for ages. She was practically part of the family.
Why would Alyssa and Dean need Ivy to worry about them?
"You're right," she admitted, "I was being presumptuous. They have Ms. Lewis, and there's no shortage of people taking care of them. I don't need to fret."
Balfour frowned slightly at her words, a pang of regret in his gut. He didn't mean Ivy was unimportant, just that he didn't want her to worry. But before he could say anything else, Ivy had already moved ahead, and he swallowed his words.
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