How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 137

She had noticed some time ago that Elodie wasn't wearing her ring, but hadn't thought much of it then. Now, seeing that Elodie still never wore it, she couldn't help but ask.

Jarrod glanced sideways at the question, his eyes flicking to Elodie's slender, pale hands.

Elodie answered calmly, "It just gets in the way."

The truth was, when she'd mailed Jarrod the divorce papers, she'd included the wedding ring in the envelope. She had no idea what he'd done with it—maybe he'd handed it off to Keith to deal with, for all she knew.

Honestly, ever since their wedding day, she'd been the only one to wear a ring. Jarrod had never once put his on, always presenting himself to the world as a single man.

She'd been performing this one-woman show long enough.

From the old woman's perspective, what harm could a ring possibly cause? She glanced at Jarrod's bare fingers too, and suddenly seemed to understand—Elodie's heart hadn't grown cold overnight.

The old woman shot Jarrod a sharp look, silently urging him to say something. Even a perfunctory gesture of reassurance would be better than indifference.

Jarrod noticed the hint, but seemed to miss its meaning. Instead of asking Elodie why she'd stopped wearing the ring, he offered the old woman a piece of shrimp. "Why are you blinking at me? Want me to peel it for you?"

He was a master at changing the subject, clearly with no intention of setting an example by wearing his own ring.

The old woman glared at him, opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again with a sigh, her expression tinged with helpless resignation. She decided it was better not to bother anymore.

Elodie pretended not to notice and ate her dinner in silence.