He stared at Ivy, confused and blank, his eyes searching her face for answers.
With a sigh, Ivy offered a quick explanation. “That was my ex–boyfriend. We broke up. He’s not the one.”
“Oh…” Silly mumbled. It was anyone’s guess if he truly understood, but he couldn’t stop glancing between Ivy and Jamison, his curiosity evident.
Jamison looked at Silly with genuine sympathy. As a doctor, he knew all too well that cerebral palsy couldn’t be cured–this was a life sentence.
Yet, for a fleeting moment, Jamison felt an odd sense of relief that Silly had this condition.
Cerebral palsy was a neurological disorder that affected movement and posture. Sometimes, it came with intellectual disabilities, but in other cases, the mind was
untouched.
Silly, it was clear, belonged to the latter group. His mind and emotions were sharp
and intact.
Jamison could see it–Silly liked Ivy. If not for his disability, Jamison thought, he might well have another rival for Ivy’s affection. She was the type who always repaid kindness; she might even have offered her heart in gratitude.
But Silly, despite his feelings, never tried to possess her. He knew he wasn’t like everyone else, that he couldn’t match her. Instead of acting on his feelings, he did everything in his power to protect Ivy, even helping her escape in the end.
@ F
Thinking of this, Jamison felt deeply moved–and humbled.
Silly’s body was broken, but his character was flawless.
He was nobler, more honorable, than most healthy people Jamison had ever met.
Lost in thought, Jamison finally turned and took an envelope from Derek’s hand.
“Ivy,” he called softly.
She turned, noticing the envelope he held out.
“There’s two thousand dollars in here,” Jamison said. “Let’s give it to him–it’ll help him out for now, let him buy some clothes, maybe make things a little easier at home.”
Ivy stared in surprise, her voice dropping to a whisper. “When did you put this
10.ว
together?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Jamison replied.
She took the envelope, then reached into her own bag and pulled out another one–also filled with cash.
She’d prepared it before coming, the same amount: two thousand dollars. She had actually considered giving Silly a debit card with ten thousand on it as a thank–you. But thinking about his situation, she realized a card would be useless–he couldn’t get to town to withdraw money, and if his brute of a father got wind of it, the money would be gone in a heartbeat.
Cash was safer. Silly could hide some for himself, buy a few things at the little store in the village.
It wasn’t a fortune, but in this poor, remote mountain village, two thousand dollars was more than some families made in a year or two.
Jamison noticed her envelope, arching an eyebrow with a hint of amusement. Their thoughts had been perfectly in sync.
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