How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 224

Noticing Elodie’s tactful retreat, Naylor raised an eyebrow.

At least Elodie was smart enough to know when to quit—she saw Sylvie approaching and didn’t try to force her way into a circle where she didn’t belong.

Of course, Elodie had no idea what others were thinking.

Across the room, Alexander was surrounded by people, most of them eager to discuss potential collaborations. Elodie had wandered over to this quieter corner to catch her breath.

Her stomach rumbled in protest.

She picked up a small plate of dessert and took a bite.

Feeling thirsty, she glanced at the array of drinks nearby. Not sure which ones were low in alcohol, she reached for a glass that looked mostly like juice.

A slender, well-defined hand pressed lightly over the rim.

Elodie looked up.

Jarrod’s dark, deep-set eyes met hers.

Almost instinctively, her expression cooled.

Jarrod didn’t seem to notice—or care. He simply removed the glass from her grasp and said in his usual detached tone, “Didn’t you mention you’re sensitive to alcohol?”

Elodie frowned slightly.

For a moment, she didn’t know what to say.

He wasn’t wrong—her intolerance wasn’t severe, but it existed.

She was a little surprised he remembered, but then again, after three years of marriage, even someone as emotionally distant as Jarrod would have picked up on certain details.

She let go of the glass.

Apparently, Jarrod had come over for a drink himself. He glanced at Elodie, saw she had no intention of striking up a conversation, and instead handed her a juice from the other side of the table. “Try this one.”

With that, Jarrod picked up his own drink and walked away, as if he’d only intervened out of casual courtesy.

Elodie eyed the glass of juice, but felt no particular emotion.