Queenie clung to Ivan’s arm, but he just took a long drag from his cigarette and patted her on the head. “Enough, go inside and wait for the results. I’ll finish my smoke and come find you.”

She caught the careless, unmoved look on his face and knew he wasn’t letting her get away with any games. Reluctantly, she tugged at his sleeve. “Alright, but don’t take too long.”

She’d smashed Ivan’s favorite mug earlier, and when she saw his anger, she felt a strange mix of nervousness and sweetness. Instinctively, she faked a

stomachache to defuse his temper.

Thankfully, after sweeping up the broken pieces, Ivan had taken her straight to the hospital.

His concern for her made it impossible for Queenie to admit she’d been faking.

Once Queenie disappeared toward the emergency room, Ivan finally turned his gaze in the direction Elodie had gone.

For a moment, he wondered:

Did Elodie see what just happened?

Would her eyes be red with anger again?

He scowled, tossed the cigarette aside, and strode off toward the parking lot.

Elodie had just unlocked her car and was about to get in when a hand appeared out of nowhere, slamming her door shut.

She looked up and saw Ivan, frowning instinctively.

He studied her calm expression, surprised there wasn’t a hint of hurt in her eyes. He frowned again.

“See someone you know and not even say hello?” Ivan’s tone was teasing.

Elodie pressed her lips together. She honestly hadn’t expected Ivan to follow her. “It’s dark-I didn’t see you.” She spoke evenly, making an obvious excuse.

Ivan let out a short laugh. “Didn’t see me, but ran off like you were being chased? You’ve been married before, haven’t you? What’s with the shy act-just because someone else got kissed?”

Elodie caught the bite in his words; everything he said seemed designed to sting.

She kept her composure. “Is there something you need?”

Ivan, noticing her cold indifference, instinctively drew his cigarette away and stubbed it out. “You saw and walked away. Isn’t that your way of making me chase after you?”

She’d used to play these little games with him. He’d never been able to win.

Elodie bit her lip, finding it all ridiculous. “You’re mistaken. What you do with your girlfriend is none of my business.”

Seeing how unruffled she was, Ivan’s smile turned cold. “That so? When Jarrod was spoiling his mistress, Mrs. Silverstein, I never saw you make a scene either.”

She hadn’t expected Ivan-who knew her almost as well as her closest family-to twist the knife about her and Jarrod’s broken marriage.

She said nothing, turning away to get into her car.

But Ivan flicked away his cigarette and suddenly grabbed her shoulder, pulling her back. He grinned, voice low and mocking. “If you won’t say goodbye to your brother, surely you won’t ignore your husband?”

Elodie followed his gaze. Across the lot, a black Mercedes was just pulling past the security post. Jarrod sat in the driver’s seat, with Sylvie beside him. Both looked over at them.

Jarrod’s eyes were dark and unreadable; his face betrayed nothing, and he quickly looked away, as if Elodie were invisible.

She thought, He’s probably here to see Selma.

Her uncle had stayed in this hospital for years, but since Selma moved in, Jarrod

had visited more in a few days than he ever had before.

Men. Whoever they love, that’s where their time and money go.

Ivan laughed. “You’re certainly patient, Elodie. How do you put up with that? Want me to teach you something? Men don’t value women who don’t value themselves.”

He raised an eyebrow, half-mocking, half-sincere. “Why not try acting like Sylvie for once?”

“That’s between me and him—not your concern,” Elodie cut him off coolly. His sarcasm and digs no longer hurt.

Ignoring the chill in Ivan’s eyes, she got in her car and drove off, not offering a single extra word.

Whether they divorced or not, she saw no reason to explain herself to Ivan anymore.

Ivan’s face fell as Elodie left.

Queenie called him several times, but he ignored every call.