Thirty nine

I leaned back in the chair, staring out at the fading skyline as the evening light turned into a soft gradient of pinks and oranges. My fingers drummed absentmindedly on the armrest, trying to shake off the weight of the day's meetings. Everything was falling into place—the public perception of our relationship was solidified, and the business trip had gone smoothly.

But my thoughts were far from business. They were tangled up with Ivy.

Louise had returned earlier, her report delivered with her usual efficiency. She described the shopping trip in her precise, businesslike manner but I could detect a faint smile behind her words. Ivy had been nervous, almost out of place, wandering through the upscale store. She had chosen gifts for Aiden with a touch of hesitation but ultimately with a great deal of care. A chess set, a dragon plush, and some sweets. I couldn't help but smile at her choices. They were perfect—thoughtful and clearly chosen with love. 

Yet, there was something stirring inside me that I wasn't used to. I stood up, moving to the window, hands sliding into my pockets as I gazed out over the resort grounds. I had half a mind to go check on Ivy earlier. I imagined her holding that black card as if it were some forbidden object, her mind racing with its implications. The thought made me chuckle softly. Ivy was so charmingly innocent in some ways, completely unguarded. It was both endearing and frustrating.

But I hadn't gone. I didn't trust myself to keep things professional, not after the way she looked at me this morning—her eyes filled with uncertainty and something else that made me want to pull her closer.

My gaze drifted to the landline on the small desk. It was a ridiculous idea, an out-of-character impulse. 'Ivy doesn't have a phone', I reminded myself. I couldn't text her casually or ask her how she was feeling. The only option was to use the landline to reach her.

I shook my head, trying to dismiss the thought. 'Don't be ridiculous', I told myself. Yet my feet moved toward the desk, and before I knew it, I was picking up the receiver. My heart rate quickened. What was I doing? I was never one for... trivial gestures. I didn't chase after people or engage in small talk. And yet here I was, dialing her room number, feeling like a lovesick teenager.

The phone rang. With each ring, I questioned my sanity. 'Hang up',a voice in my head demanded, but my fingers were already committed. I felt like a fool. 

Then, her voice came through the line—soft, gentle, and breathless. "Hello?"

I almost choked on my breath. Hearing her voice like that made my chest tighten. "Ivy," I said, trying to sound calm, but my tone was softer than I'd intended.

There was a brief pause. I could practically sense her confusion. "Alex? Is everything okay?"

Her nervousness made me chuckle softly. I quickly masked it, though. "You sound nervous," I observed, leaning back in the chair with a smirk. 

"I'm not nervous," she replied, though her voice gave her away. "Just… tired."

I smiled at her attempt to sound composed. "Long day?"

Another pause. I already knew the answer, but hearing it from her made it more tangible. "Yeah. I got a few things for Aiden."

I nodded, though she couldn't see me. "I'm sure he'll love them." My mind drifted to the chess set and the plush dragon. She'd done well. It wasn't just a shopping trip; it was Ivy's way of showing care, and that somehow made it more significant. 

There was a silence, one that felt heavy and unspoken. With Ivy, even silence seemed meaningful. I imagined her sitting on the bed, probably fidgeting with the blanket, unsure of what to say next.

"Alex," Ivy began, but her voice faltered. I could sense her hesitation and wondered what was on her mind. Was she about to thank me again for the card or perhaps address the awkwardness between us? 

"Hmm?" I prompted, my tone deliberately gentle to encourage her to speak.

I could almost feel the weight of her uncertainty through the phone. "About earlier... I just—" she started, but her words trailed off, leaving an uneasy silence.

I decided to interrupt before the tension could build further. "Don't worry about it, Ivy," I said softly but firmly. "I don't expect anything from you that you're not ready to give."

I could almost hear her inhaling, picturing her biting her lip, her cheeks probably flushed pink. "O-Okay," she replied, her voice small.

That simple word sent my heart racing. This was absurd. I shouldn't be feeling this... lightheaded over a conversation. 

Another pause stretched between us, longer this time. I could feel myself sinking into the moment, drawn to her presence even through the phone.

"We leave tomorrow morning," I said, almost as if reminding myself as much as her. "Get some rest."

"Right. I will."

I didn't want to hang up. Not yet. My fingers tightened on the receiver. Before I could stop myself, the words slipped out—more tender than I'd intended. "Goodnight, Ivy."

Her response was soft, "Goodnight, Alex."

The line clicked, but her warmth lingered. I sat there for a moment, staring at the phone, my heart still pounding in my chest. 

I had no idea why I'd called her. But hearing her voice—soft, innocent, and just a little uncertain—had been worth it.

I set the receiver down, leaning back in my chair, an unfamiliar warmth spreading through me.