Ivy had long since given up on expecting fairness from the Dunhill family, yet the bitter memories of the past still lingered.
Clara was a master at playing the angel in the presence of elders, feigning innocence and victimhood even though she was often the bully.
Today, Ivy had pierced through Clara's facade, reclaiming a sliver of justice for her younger self, albeit belatedly.
"Silly, why would I ever think that?"
Balfour's chin rested atop Ivy's head, his voice laced with tenderness. "I just wish you wouldn't keep things from me. If there's anything you want to do, just let me know. I know you can handle everything on your own, but you're not alone anymore. Can't you rely on me a little more? I want to be needed by you."
His words resonated deeply with Ivy. She had always felt unnecessary, never so unequivocally chosen.
Her eyes began to moisten.
Hearing the sniffle, Balfour cupped her face. "What's wrong? Why the tears all of a sudden? Did I say something to upset you?"
She shook her head, nuzzling into his palm. "I'm not upset. I'm happy. I'm so grateful to have you, to have met you."
Balfour offered a comforting smile. "Meeting you is my greatest fortune, too."
Their eyes met, and they shared a laugh despite their relationship originating from a mere contract.
But who could argue that it wasn't the best stroke of fate?
They chatted in each other's arms until a knock at the door brought them back to reality.
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