Chapter 379: Ivy Sherwood, What Makes You Think I’d Be Interested in You?
’He’s someone who dislikes the smell of perfume, yet he’s wearing it?’
But Ivy Sherwood didn’t dwell on it. She was more concerned that Quentin Blackwood was okay.
"I was worried sick! Why has your phone been off this whole time? I was so afraid something had happened to you. Don’t do this again. Even if your phone breaks, you have to call me right away, understand?!" Her voice was filled with concern.
However, Quentin Blackwood’s body was rigid. Behind Ivy Sherwood’s back, his hand trembled, and it took all his self-control not to wrap his arms around her.
’It was her scent. The woman he cherished in his heart. His heart was brutally squeezed. How could he bear to push her away?’
Ivy Sherwood felt it too. Any other time, he would have already wrapped his arms around her.
Ivy Sherwood lifted her head, looking up at Quentin Blackwood’s chin.
His eyes seemed to be bloodshot, but his hair was meticulously styled. He looked alright, mentally.
Only then did Ivy Sherwood relax. "I got a..."
"That wasn’t a scam call. I made it." Quentin Blackwood’s voice was verging on cold.
Ivy Sherwood froze, staring at Quentin Blackwood in disbelief.
’Did he... really make that call?’
"Since you’re here, I’ll tell you to your face. We’re over."
This wasn’t a discussion; it was a notification. His tone was a direct command.
The words struck her like a bolt of lightning. Even though she’d already heard them over the phone, hearing Quentin Blackwood say them in person, right in front of her, she still couldn’t process it.
Ivy Sherwood was stunned for a long moment. She didn’t understand. "Why?"
’Everything had been fine before she returned to Aethelgard. How could one trip home make Quentin Blackwood seem like a completely different person?’
Quentin Blackwood steeled his heart and pushed the woman in his arms away.
He walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window, not daring to look into Ivy Sherwood’s eyes.
He picked up the cigarettes nearby, took one out, and casually lit it with a lighter. He clenched the cigarette between his teeth, trying his best to suppress his emotions.
"There is no why. I’m sick of you. I don’t want to be with you anymore. Is that not a good enough reason?"
Ivy Sherwood watched his back. He was wearing a custom-tailored suit, looking as mature as ever. Every move he made was still so calm and composed, exuding a captivating charm.
Ivy Sherwood walked to his side. With a turn of her head, she could see his firm jawline. Through the swirling smoke, she could faintly make out his tightly knitted brow.
Quentin Blackwood had smoked so much that the heavy scent of tobacco clung to him, which was why he had asked Zane Linton for some perfume to spray on.
"You’re not that kind of person. That reason isn’t the least bit convincing."
She bit her lip, her eyes turning red.
Her stubborn nature wouldn’t allow her to cry, no matter how much she was hurting.
"You said before that I could be the one to end it at any time. Last time was a fake-out. This time, it’s real," Quentin Blackwood said, uttering the cruelest words he could muster.
"We should never have started in the first place. You were just a tool for my revenge against the Blackwood Family. I’ll admit, I stayed with you for a while because you’re not bad-looking. But now my goal is accomplished, and there’s no need to be with you anymore. I just see you’ve gotten in too deep recently, and I don’t want the hassle. You can ask for any compensation you want—a car, a house, money. I can give it all to you."
Quentin Blackwood spoke with detached indifference, just not daring to look into Ivy Sherwood’s eyes.
The compensation he offered wasn’t a lie. If Ivy Sherwood asked, he would even give her the company.
But Quentin Blackwood knew that Ivy Sherwood wouldn’t want any of it.
"Are you serious?" Ivy Sherwood dug her nails into her palm, the sharp pain the only thing keeping her calm.
Quentin asked, "Which part are you asking about? Ending things, or being with you? If you’re talking about ending things, then yes, I’m serious. If you’re talking about being with you, well, there was a fair bit of acting involved. After all, it was only your body that I found decent. Any other woman would do just as well—some even better. At least they wouldn’t be so clingy."
Ivy Sherwood’s heart felt like it had been ripped open. She had thought that when he took her to meet his friends, it was because he liked her, a sign that he wanted to be with her forever.
She had thought that when he went to Elandra to find her, he truly missed her.
Only now did Ivy Sherwood realize what a good actor Quentin Blackwood was.
"So you think me coming to find you today is being clingy?"
Quentin Blackwood stubbed out his cigarette. The red veins in his eyes seemed to multiply, and his heart felt like it was being pierced by needles. "None of that matters anymore. I think I’ve made myself clear enough. If you want something, go to Zane Linton. If there’s nothing else, you should go back to Lustre."
Quentin Blackwood’s performance was utterly heartless. His resolute profile looked impossibly cruel.
Ivy Sherwood now understood just how unfeeling he truly was.
But Ivy Sherwood still couldn’t believe it. She refused to accept that everything before had been a lie. The way Quentin Blackwood used to look at her—his eyes had clearly held a light. He had liked her.
Ivy Sherwood felt as if she were in an ice cellar. According to her personality, she wasn’t one to cling desperately; she would let go cleanly.
But she liked Quentin Blackwood. She didn’t want to give up just like that. She had to try.
She lunged forward and hugged him from behind. "I don’t believe you! I don’t believe any of this is fake! Did something happen to make you change so suddenly? You can tell me. If something’s wrong, we can face it together."
Feeling the warmth against his back, Quentin Blackwood’s hands, hanging at his sides, clenched into fists. His chest seemed to tremble with the force of his breathing. He was using every ounce of his strength to force himself to remain calm.
He placed his hands over hers. Ivy Sherwood felt the icy cold of his palms.
But what was even colder was Quentin Blackwood’s action. He grabbed her by the wrists and pried her fingers, which were wrapped around him, off his waist.
He pushed Ivy Sherwood away completely and looked at her with cold indifference, as if looking at a stranger.
His thin lips moved. His voice was low, but the words that came out were incredibly cruel. "What could possibly have happened? Did you think this was some TV drama? Or do you think you’re the main character?"
"Ivy Sherwood, what makes you think that someone like me could ever be interested in you?"
Ivy Sherwood’s pupils contracted. She took a step back.
’That’s right. Why would someone like Quentin Blackwood ever be interested in her?’
With reddened eyes, Ivy Sherwood still managed to pull the corners of her lips into a smile, but that smile held so much unspoken pain.
She had been on edge since last night. And now, hearing Quentin Blackwood’s words, she hadn’t even had the chance to tell him about the pregnancy before he had already pronounced a death sentence on their relationship.
"I understand." Ivy Sherwood’s voice was very soft.
It took all her strength just to keep herself from collapsing.
’It was just a breakup. No need to make a scene.’
Ivy Sherwood turned, and just as she was about to leave, she heard Quentin Blackwood’s voice from behind her.
"Wait."
Ivy Sherwood’s steps faltered. She whipped her head around, a glimmer of starlight seeming to flash in her eyes. Within her stubborn gaze, there was still a trace of hope.
Hope that Quentin Blackwood would say a single word to make her stay, or tell her that everything he’d just said was nothing more than a joke.