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After My Husband Called For Ivy, I Canceled Our Marriage Novel Cover

After My Husband Called For Ivy, I Canceled Our Marriage

On our wedding night, while my husband was showering, he suddenly shouted, "Ivy, can you bring me a pair of boxers?" I was about to get up and fetch them when I froze. Ivy isn't me. She's the one staying at our home—his female friend from the old gang. Before I could react, Ivy was already in the master bedroom, holding his boxers at her fingertips. She didn’t even bother to knock. Without acknowledging me, she walked straight to the bathroom door and quipped, "Hey! Open up, your old man sent you some black coffee!" How charming! My husband's father has been deceased for over a decade. Is this a haunting? In that case, maybe his dear old dad can kindly take the rotten potatoes away with him.
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Chapter 2

Ivan returned to the bedroom with a hint of annoyance, almost imperceptible, and asked, "Did you say something to Ivy just now?"

I responded, "Yes, I did. She walked in without knocking to bring my husband a pair of boxers. Do you not think that's worth addressing?"

He immediately showed a hint of discontent. "She's just a close friend. She's practically one of the guys. What's the big deal about grabbing a pair of shorts?"

If I hadn't seen him earlier push away a male friend to escort Ivy into the room alone, I might have believed him.

I said, "Oh, maybe I overreacted. I even arranged a separate room for her. The hotel charged extra to open a new room. Tomorrow, let her room with Caiden."

Caiden was the friend who had been talking earlier.

Ivan retorted, "How can those two share a room?"

I replied coolly, "They're all buddies. What's the problem?"

Ivan found himself at a loss for words.

I've always been easy-going, but speaking so sharply felt quite unusual for me.

Seeing I was genuinely upset, he quickly tried to calm me down. "Come on, babe, don’t be mad. I just noticed you've been really tired today and didn’t want to bother you. So I asked her to do it. Besides, the bathroom is separate, she couldn’t see me."

"Do you often have her bring you underwear when you're showering?" I questioned.

I instinctively felt he might have called her out of habit.

Ivan and I were in a long-distance relationship. We dated for two years before deciding he'd move here from his hometown. After all, this is New York City, a land of opportunity. I'm the only child of a local family, and the resources here are more conducive to growth.

He's only been in New York for about a month, so we’ve only just started living together.

I anticipated there would be areas where we'd need to adjust to each other. But I never imagined there'd be another woman comfortable enough to bring him underwear while he showered.

He hesitated, "Not that often. You know, the four of us usually hang out, drink coffee, chat, and play video games together. We help each other out whenever."

"Then why didn't you ask the other guys to help?" I countered. "Was it because they're men, and having a woman in the bedroom might be inconvenient?"

It's a reason, I suppose. But tonight, it just didn’t sit right with me.

I brushed his hand away. "She's like a daughter to you, and she calls me her sister. Which makes me like your aunt. Keep your distance!"

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