How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 112

"Elodie, tell me—are you and that boy… nothing happened between you two, right?" Rosemary's sharp eyes fixed on Elodie, worry clear in her gaze.

Elodie pressed her lips together, finding it impossible to explain Jarrod's current situation with Sylvie. After all, Sylvie was Selma's daughter; Grandma simply couldn't handle that truth.

"He… he'll come," Elodie managed, skirting around the real issue.

Rosemary watched her for a long moment before sighing. "If Jarrod's grandfather and your grandfather hadn't been war buddies—if the families weren't so close—I'd have marched right over to his house and demanded an explanation!"

Back then, Henrietta had been the one to agree to the engagement without hesitation, promising again and again that Jarrod would never let Elodie down. That was the only reason Rosemary had trusted her.

But now… This lukewarm attitude—what is she supposed to make of it?

Elodie tried to comfort her. "Grandma, it's getting late. Why don't you go and get some rest?"

She could handle this herself. The last thing she wanted was for her grandmother to get dragged into this messy business and end up upset.

Rosemary paused, as if wanting to say more, but finally just told her to be careful on the road before heading upstairs.

Elodie had driven here, but since all the parking spots at the care home were full, she'd left her car near the main entrance. She decided to walk back, letting the fresh air clear her head.

As she approached the parking lot, she was caught off guard by a flirtatious voice drifting from up ahead: "Ivan, kiss me again…"

Elodie's steps faltered.

She glanced over.

Under the dim parking lot lights, by the door of a flashy black SUV, a woman was draped all over a man. She stood on tiptoe, pressing kisses along his jaw, her tone unmistakably suggestive.

Ivan held her by the waist, his expression hard to make out, his voice lazy with a hint of mischief. "Aren't you a little too bold? Don't you realize we could—"

He broke off abruptly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he'd spotted Elodie standing not far away.

Something flickered in Ivan's eyes. In an instant, his demeanor shifted. He pulled Queenie close, one hand braced on the car door, the other lifting her chin as he bent down to kiss her neck—hard enough to draw breathless gasps from her.

He hadn't even been in the mood.