THE OTHER SIDE OF MR. BLACKWOOD

IVY’S POV

"You heard me," I said, wiping the tears from my cheek. "I know you are powerful and rich, Mr. Blackwood, but that doesn’t give you the right to treat people like trash. You don't even know me, yet you are judging my entire character based on one night even after I’ve explained that it’s not what you think."

He didn’t move. He just stared at me, his jaw clenched tightly.

"And how could you be so nonchalant towards your own daughter?" I continued, the anger boiling over. I was getting fired anyway so there was no need holding it in. "When you came to the room, you were so blinded by rage that you didn't even look at her. You cared more about the fact that I was in that room than your daughter you haven’t seen in a while. Now you’re sending me away without any replacement, who will now take care of her? I can’t believe a room is more important than your daughter’s wellbeing and….”.

“You know nothing about my life or my daughter”. He hissed, interrupting me. “Get out. Now." His face was slightly pale but his expression remained furious.

I bit my lip, realizing the weight of the words I’d just dished out to him out of anger. Now, there was really no way he was going to let me keep working for him.

"Fine," I whispered, turning my back to him. "I'll pack my bags."

I had just taken two steps to the door when I heard him cough violently from behind me. I froze and glanced back over my shoulder.

Mr. Blackwood was gripping the edge of his desk, his knuckles turning white. His eyes were clamped shut, his face twisted in pain. He tried to draw in a breath but it only triggered another violent fit of coughing.

His knees buckled and as he began to stagger backward, panic overrode my anger. Before he could crash to the floor, I rushed across the room and threw my arms around his waist, pinning him securely against the desk.

He was really heavy, heavy enough that I knew my back would ache for a week, but I didn't care. All I could focus on was the groans of pain escaping his lips.

"Hey, hey, look at me," I said frantically, placing a hand against his cheek. "What’s wrong? Are you okay?"

His breath came in short, ragged gasps, and a sheen of sweat broke out across his forehead. He opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out. Struggling to keep his eyes open, his head slumped weakly against my shoulder.

My heart hammered wildly against my ribs at the sudden contact, but I forced myself to stay focused.

"Okay, okay, don't try to speak," I told him, guiding his arm over my shoulder. "You need to lie down right now."

Draped over my shoulder, he let out another weak groan as I guided him slowly across the room toward the small bed in the corner of his study. The moment his head hit the pillow, he let out a painful sigh. He was also now shivering.

"You look like you’re freezing," I noted. I quickly leaned over him, my fingers moving to the buttons of his black dress shirt. My heart raced as my hands touch his chest as I unbuttoned the shirt so he can breathe easier. His chest was so broad and so smooth….. Focus, Ivy!

"I need to call a doctor. I think you're sick," I said, pulling my hands back but before I could even take a step away from the bed, his hand shot out and he grabbed my wrist.

"No," He rasped, his eyes cracking open slightly. They were dull and filled with pain. "I…I don’t need a doctor."

"But Mr. Blackwood, your body is—"

"No doctor," he insisted, pulling me on my wrist and making me fall to the bed with a gasp. "Just...I just need to sleep. Please."

Every remaining drop of my anger completely evaporated. Sitting there, looking down at his pale face, a heavy wave of guilt washed over me. It grew worse when I noticed the lines of exhaustion under his eyes.

“God”, I thought, my chest tightening, “What if he was still grieving?”

I had been furious at him for judging me based on one bad impression, yet I had turned around and done the exact same thing to him. I had called him heartless without knowing a single thing about what he was going through.

"Okay," I said softly, sitting down on the edge of the mattress. "I won't call a doctor."

Slowly, the tense grip on my wrist relaxed, though his fingers remained loosely curled around mine. I stayed right there, monitoring his breathing, my eyes never leaving his face until his chest finally began to rise and fall as he fell asleep.

Only then did I carefully slip my hand from his and creep out of the room, taking extra care not to make a sound. I rushed downstairs to the kitchen and asked Greta for a bowl of cold water and a cloth. Hurrying back up, I slipped back into his study and gently placed the cool, damp cloth across his forehead.

I sat by his bedside for hours, replacing the cloth whenever it grew warm. It was only when his fever finally broke and his temperature returned to normal that I quietly slipped out of the room.

Exhausted but relieved, I quietly closed the study door behind me and walked back to the nursery to watch over Ava. I would stay here, doing my absolute best for her until he found a suitable replacement.

And once he did, I would say my goodbye and leave the Blackwood Estate for good.