How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 45

After Jarrod finished speaking, he loosened his tie and headed for the shower. As he passed Elodie, he didn't spare her a single glance, as if even looking her way would somehow betray Sylvie. Frankly, whenever he did look at Elodie, all he noticed was the pallor of illness in her face.

Elodie snapped out of her daze, quickly catching on to what Jarrod meant. Her cheeks flushed hot, an embarrassed, helpless confusion rising within her. Did Jarrod actually think she wanted to sleep with him?

"You've got the wrong idea," she said, taking a steadying breath. "I'll be in the guest room tonight."

Only then did Jarrod finally turn back, his handsome face blank and unreadable. By the time he did, Elodie was already gone—no hesitation, just gone. He supposed that made sense. No one likes being rejected; she was probably mortified. He allowed himself a barely-there, dismissive smile before stepping into the bathroom.

Elodie eyed the spotless bathtub but didn't bother running a hot bath. Jarrod stared at the tub for a long time, then turned and opted for a quick shower instead.

_

Elodie barely slept that night. Jarrod's unexpected return had thrown all her plans into chaos. In the morning, after washing up, she stepped out into the hallway just as Jarrod was coming out of his own room, phone pressed to his ear. His normally cool voice was now gentle. "Yeah, whenever you're free. Just let me know."

Elodie looked away and headed downstairs. That tone—it could only be Sylvie on the other end. She hadn't expected their relationship to be so close, so… intimate.

At the bottom of the stairs, Elodie was surprised to find Jarrod's grandmother already there, waving her over with a warm smile. "Up so early, sweetheart?" she called.

Her gaze flicked to Jarrod, who had followed Elodie down, and her face lit up with satisfaction.

Elodie blinked. "Grandma, what brings you here so early?"

Grandma motioned for the housekeeper to bring in a set of insulated food containers. "I heard you switched jobs. Jarrod tells me you've been so busy, you haven't had a chance to come home to Silverstein Manor, and you haven't been cooking for yourself. So I had the kitchen make some of your favorites."

Elodie shot Jarrod a look. That's what he'd told his grandmother? That she was too busy with work to come home, not that she wanted a divorce? She couldn't help but wonder—when was he ever going to be honest with the family?

"Come, sit down. Jarrod, sit next to Elodie," Grandma said, brimming with energy. Jarrod didn't move, and she shot him a stern look. "What are you waiting for? Don't make me repeat myself."

Jarrod did as he was told, settling beside Elodie. "Whatever makes you happy," he replied, his tone flat.

Elodie stayed silent as Grandma took charge, directing Jarrod, "Peel some shrimp for Elodie. She loves these."

Elodie knew Jarrod hated things like this, so she tried to protest. "It's fine, really—"