How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 609

“Then you could have just told me up front that we needed to focus on my health first, instead of going behind my back and pulling these tricks. You gave me hope, then shattered it yourself. Jarrod, the truth is, you simply didn’t want a child—no need to dress it up as something noble.”

That was what Elodie found most infuriating—utterly incomprehensible!

A flicker crossed Jarrod’s eyes, but this time, he didn’t bother to explain. He just looked at her, silent and unmoving.

Maybe neither of them was in a good place emotionally. The tension hung between them, a thick, uneasy pause.

It was all in the past now. Still, this issue remained a splinter in Elodie’s heart.

If, at the time, she’d fought to have a baby—if she’d insisted—maybe she would never have had to endure the pain of losing her uterus after falling ill, never have known the agony of being told she could never have children.

But then, thinking back with hindsight, if she really had gotten pregnant, what would have happened with her and Jarrod? Would they have been able to go their separate ways so cleanly?

The thought drained the last of her strength. She felt utterly spent, body and soul.

What was the point in dwelling on it? Was there even anything left to hold onto now?

Maybe he noticed the edge in her expression fading, the sharpness softening. Jarrod reached for her wrist, ignoring her instinctive attempt to pull away, and gently tugged her down onto the couch. Squatting in front of her, he looked up and said, “After everything I’ve put you through—even when you could’ve slapped me, you didn’t. Could your temper really be any better than this?”

Her face turned colder still, eyes brimming with icy sarcasm.

After all she’d suffered, he still had the nerve to call her good-tempered. What a joke.

But Jarrod didn’t seem to care how she felt about him. He spoke as casually as if they were discussing the weather: “If we’d had a child back then, what kind of life do you think you would’ve wanted? Staying home, pouring yourself into making a family?”

It was a hypothetical, one that didn’t matter anymore.

Elodie never let herself consider such things these days.

Once upon a time, yes—she would’ve devoted herself to raising a child, because all she’d ever wanted was a real home, a whole family. For that missing piece in her heart, she would have given up anything else she wanted.

But she wasn’t that girl anymore. The person she was now felt like a stranger to who she’d been. So when Jarrod asked her, she could only sit there, speechless.

She stood, ready to leave. It was late, and she didn’t want to disturb his grandmother.

Jarrod caught her slender wrist. “You can pick a fight with me any time you want. But it’s late. Why don’t you just stay here and rest?”

She didn’t feel any better. Even after forcing herself to calm down, there was still a bitterness she couldn’t shake.

When he held her, she yanked her arm free. “Talk all you want, Jarrod, but don’t touch me.”

He let her go at once, unfazed. “Elodie, this isn’t fair.”

She stared at him, thrown off guard. “What?”

He fiddled with his phone, his tone almost offhand. “That night on the cruise, you did whatever you wanted with me. But now I’m not even allowed to touch you?”

Elodie’s expression froze. She hadn’t expected him to bring up that night, a night they’d both silently agreed never to mention.