Chapter 121: A dumbfounding information

Ivy’s pov

"Ivy! You’re... you’re home."

"I live here," I replied curtly, my voice flat and cold as the air coming from the air conditioner. "Or did you forget?"

She set the spoon in her hands down, her face crumbling into a remorseful look. "Ivy, I... I’m so sorry."

A bitter, ugly scoff left my lips. She had got to be kidding me if she thought any of those things she was saying actually meant shit to me.

I ignored her, my eyes scanning the living room, taking in the small changes she had made to my freaking matrimonial home. There was some white skating figurine vase on the mantelpiece and her ugly throw pillows on my couch.

I walked towards the hallway, intent on getting my things and getting out before Angel came here, my grip tightening around the baseball bat in my hands.

"I mean it," she repeated, her voice following me, thick with tears. "I am so, so sorry."

I stopped at the door to my bedroom, turning to face her slowly. "Sorry?" I laughed, a harsh, broken sound that sent a spike of pain through my skull.

"Awww, sweet Pamela. Are you sorry? What exactly are you sorry for? You’re sorry for sleeping with my husband? For getting pregnant by him? For having the audacity to move into my house?" I gestured around me.

"You’re standing in my kitchen, wearing my apron, acting like the lady of the house, and you have the nerve to tell me you’re sorry."

"I never meant for it to happen like this," she whispered, wringing her hands.

"Don’t you dare say that bullshit to me," I snarled, my vision blurring slightly. My migraine was clawing at the inside of my skull. "Don’t you dare."

I found my things strewn across the hallway and began picking them while Pamela hovered in the doorway, droning meaningless apologies at me.

"I didn’t have a choice!" she sobbed, clutching her heavy stomach. "He threatened me, Ivy! Angel... said I had to keep the baby. He said I had to move in or... or he’d make sure I lost everything. I didn’t want to! I swear I didn’t want this!"

Angel was a monster. Of course he had threatened her, that sounded believable considering I had fotten threatened a lot by him. But it didn’t excuse her. It didn’t excuse what Pamela had done to me.

"And you think that would be the end of it?" I stepped closer, pointing to the ugly, purpling bruise I could feel blooming on my forehead.

"You think his threats stop with you? Look at this, Pamela. He gave me this not an hour ago. Because I defied him and told that bastard no." My voice rose, trembling with fury.

"He’s not going to stop. He’s never going to stop. You better get out while you can, before you’re next. I’m done. You can have the demon all to yourself if you want. But stop spitting those pathetic excuses and apologies to me."

I didn’t wait for her to respond. I stormed into my bedroom, yanked open drawers, pulling out clothes and shoving them haphazardly into a suitcase. I needed to get out of here before he showed up.

I grabbed the teddy bear Kai from under the bed where I had stuffed it had, stuffing it on top of the pile of clothes. I slammed the suitcase shut and brushed past a sobbing Pamela, not sparing her another glance.

Pamela kept droning on behind me. "Ivy, please, just talk to me...Ivy, wait!"

Yeah over my freaking dead body. I was in the elevator and gone before she could say another word, counting every secnd fearfully yet vengefully. I would get out of this. I was going to call my lawyer and serve him papers.

The board of directors would understand. I would perform so excellently well that they would not need to dispute when Dad named me heir of his company just because I wasn’t married to that bastard anymore.

By the time I got into my car, my headache had worsened and so did the painful bruise festering on my forehead. I fumbled in my purse for my migraine pills, my hands shaking so badly I could barely get the bottle open. I dry-swallowed two, but I knew it was useless.

They hadn’t been working for weeks. The pain always came back and sometimes it was even worse.

I needed something stronger.

I pulled into the first pharmacy I saw, stumbling out of the car and into the blessedly cool, sterile interior. The pharmacist, a kind older woman with glasses, looked up from her counter and gasped, right hand flying to her mouth.

"Oh my goodness, dear! What happened to your head?" she rushed out from behind the counter, her eyes fixed on the swelling I could feel blooming on my forehead.

"It’s nothing," I mumbled, swaying slightly from the pain. There were only a handful of customers around, browsing the aisle while she grabbed my arm and guided me to a chair.

"That does not look like nothing," She muttered, dabbing my forehead with a cool, antiseptic wipe. The gentle touch almost made me cry. I sucked it in, sniffling to hold back the tears.

"What happened?"

My eyes darted to the curious customer faces. I just knew that they could guess what happened. My husband fucking happened. I couldn’t tell her so I just pressed my lipsin a tight smile.

"Thank you, but,, what I actually came for..." I pulled the small white bottle out of my purse. "My migraine pills aren’t working anymore. Do I have to upgrade to a stronger one?"

The pharmacist took the bottle, squinting at the blank bottle wrapper. Her brow furrowed in utter confusion above her glasses. She popped a few of the pills on her palm and examined them.

"Migraine pills you say? These aren’t migraine pills."

"What are you talking about? Of course they are."

She shook her head slowly, her eyes squinting. "These are birth control pills."

WHAT?