CHAPTER 110: IS EVERYTHING OKAY?

"Is everything okay?" Ivy asked softly as she stepped into the dining room. The storm seemed to pause — if only for her.

"Everything is peachy," Winn snapped, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes before walking out of the room. He needed a drink.

Ivy’s gaze followed him, confusion knitting her brow, before turning back to Anna.

"Ivy, why don’t you come help set these cutleries," Anna said, regaining her composure.

"Of course, Anna," Ivy said with a gentle smile and stepped closer to the table. The maid had already laid out fine plates. She picked up the cutleries and began placing them beside each plate.

"Was Trish around to help you with wedding preparations while we were gone?" Ivy asked, trying to fill the uneasy silence.

"Oh yes, she was a big help," Anna said. "I admit, we both have the same kind of wedding in mind." She let out a small laugh, one part genuine, two parts wistful. "But since you said just a small, intimate ceremony...It was hard, but we respected your wishes."

Ivy smiled politely, her fingers brushing the edge of a knife as she straightened it. "I really appreciate that."

Anna nodded. "Trish did set up a wedding dress appointment for you at Mark Ingram Atelier."

Ivy’s eyes widened slightly. She’d heard of Mark Ingram Atelier. Her fingers paused mid-movement, her throat tightening with disbelief.

"Oh, you should try that one. I got mine there. They have so many beautiful collections," Irene said brightly. Her smile was perfect and her words flowed effortlessly.

"So, all I have to do is just pick up a dress?" Ivy asked, trying to keep her tone light even as she glanced between the two women.

"Try on a lot of dresses, feel like a queen while doing it, and then pick one," Irene said. There was a glint of nostalgia in her eyes as Anna laughed softly, clearly delighted by her.

"Spoken like a true lady," Anna said warmly, her laughter tinkling through the room. The moment between the two women was easy, natural — and to Ivy, a little painful.

She smiled politely, but inside, a small pang of envy twisted in her chest. She wasn’t part of this world — not really.

Before long, the table was perfectly set, and the housemaid left with the last of the dishes. Seven of them gathered around the table.

Ivy took her seat beside Winn. Tom Kane and Irene’s father sat near the head of the table, the two old men already nursing their glasses of red wine as if they were negotiating kingdoms. Anna had positioned herself right between Winn and Evans, perhaps to keep the peace — or at least try to.

As soon as dinner began, Evans was the first to break the silence. "So, Ivy," he began. "How has it been working for Winn? I hear he’s the devil’s incarnate at work."

"I wouldn’t say devil’s incarnate." Ivy responded. "He’s a perfectionist. He wants things done right the first time—no room for mistakes."

"Let me guess," Evans said, a teasing grin playing on his lips. "You get it right the first time."

"Every damn time." Ivy shot back.

The room erupted in laughter. Only Winn and Tom remained stoic—one simmering with irritation, the other steeped in judgment.

"How about family? Do you have any?"

Ivy smiled softly. "Yes. A few extended relatives... and my mum."

"Ah, a mum." Evans said, his grin widening. "Shame she didn’t come with you. I would have loved to meet the woman who raised someone this—"

"Could you talk to other people at this table?" Winn cut in sharply.

Evans, never one to back down from a challenge, smirked. "Okay, I could talk to you then."

Before he could add another word, Irene’s high-heeled foot connected with his shin under the table.

"Ow! What did I do?" he winced, rubbing his leg as Irene shot him a glare sharp enough to cut marble.

"Shut up," Irene said coolly, lifting her glass to her lips.

The entire exchange sent a ripple of laughter down the table—except Winn, who simply stared at Irene with nostalgia.

She still carried herself with that same quiet dominance. Even now, when she wasn’t the focus, she commanded the air around her. The woman could silence a room with a single look. And once upon a time, she’d silenced him too.

Ivy caught the glance between them—barely a flicker, but enough. A tightness bloomed in her chest. She busied herself adjusting her napkin, pretending she didn’t feel the subtle ache spreading behind her ribs.

Meanwhile, Anna tried to salvage the atmosphere. "So, Ivy," she said gently, "what kind of wedding dress do you imagine wearing?"

Ivy smiled faintly, grateful for the distraction. "Something elegant but simple. Not too flashy."

"Oh, sweetheart, nothing about you could ever be simple," Anna said warmly. "you are going to make a really beautiful bride."

Ivy looked at Winn and saw it again. Winn’s eyes lingered on Irene as if trying to remember the exact taste of her lips, the curve of her laugh, the woman she had been before she became someone else’s. He wasn’t even trying to hide it.

Ivy’s fingers clenched around her fork. She concentrated on cutting her steak into perfect squares, her posture poised, even as the burn in her chest spread. She wouldn’t give him or his family the satisfaction of seeing her lose control.

Tom cleared his throat. "What have you been up to, Irene?" he asked. "It seems like you disappeared from the business world."

Irene dabbed the corner of her lips with a napkin, her posture effortlessly regal. "Oh... no, I didn’t disappear," she replied. "I just have a very loud husband." Her lips curved into a teasing smile as she glanced at Evans, who was halfway through his wine.

"He sucks up all the attention. But if it brings in the millions, who am I to complain? I run an insurance firm now—between juggling motherhood and career, I barely have time to breathe."