How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 785

She gazed at the small bedside lamp off to the side, her mind wandering restlessly, picturing what her daughter might look like. Would she resemble her more, or would she take after Jarrod?

She’d heard people say daughters often look like their fathers.

The thought made her glance up at Jarrod’s profile, quiet and composed in the dim light.

His features were striking—sharp yet harmonious, his nose high and elegant but not harsh, a single mole at the bridge giving him a hint of mystery. His eyelids were perfectly creased, and his lips, set against his pale skin, looked almost vividly red. Every detail of his face seemed carefully carved, refined to the last line.

She’d always known—there weren’t many faces out there to rival Jarrod’s.

If their daughter looked like him...

Well, there’d be nothing to complain about.

She must have stared too long. Her gaze lingered, almost unwittingly, on his lips for a few heartbeats.

Realizing it a moment too late, Elodie’s spine stiffened. She averted her eyes quickly, feeling a warm flush creep up to her ears.

She shut her eyes, determined to clear her mind of all these tangled thoughts.

The second her eyelids closed, Jarrod glanced over, catching that awkward, flustered expression of hers for a split second.

A silent, fleeting smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

—

The next morning, Elodie woke to find the other side of the bed empty.

She rubbed her eyes and sat up. “Jarrod?”

No answer from the bathroom either.

She went to freshen up. As she changed, she lifted her shirt before the dressing mirror, checking her abdomen. The small incision had almost completely healed, though the scar would take more time to fade.

She still needed to stay on her medication for a while—antibiotics, hormone supplements, all to prevent complications and balance her recovery. The full course would take some time to finish. She just had to push through a little longer.

Once dressed, she headed downstairs.

Cara was already bustling about the kitchen.

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