How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 92

The old woman's appetite had improved a lot; she even finished another half bowl of soup.

The small pot of soup Elodie had simmered was nearly gone.

Even Jarrod had helped himself to more than a little.

Elodie wasn't surprised—he'd always appreciated her cooking.

After dinner, Jarrod stepped outside to take a call.

Elodie waited a few minutes, then followed him out.

She found him under the porch, smoking. Pulling her coat tighter around herself, she walked over. "Do you have a moment?"

She wanted to talk to him about attending her mother's memorial.

When he saw her coming, Jarrod shifted his cigarette away, then stubbed it out.

"How long have you been out here?" His gaze was sharp, scrutinizing.

Elodie realized what he meant—he probably thought she'd overheard his conversation. Was it Sylvie on the line?

"Just now. Right after you hung up," she replied coolly, her chest rising and falling with the chill.

Finally, Jarrod glanced up at her, slipping one hand into his pocket. His tone was casual, almost detached. "I was drunk that night."

Elodie blinked, not following at first.

A slight smirk curled his lips. He spoke slowly, almost lazily. "I trust you won't make a fuss about what happened between us, will you?"

Her mind buzzed, and suddenly she understood—he was referring to that night their relationship had crossed a line.

A surge of cold crept down her spine; for a moment, she was stunned, almost incredulous.

He was warning her—not to stir up trouble between him and Sylvie, not to let that night become ammunition.

"That was a mistake for both of us, Mr. Silverstein. You don't need to worry," Elodie replied, meeting his eyes. Her tone left no room for doubt.

They could both rest easy.

Jarrod held her gaze for a moment longer; in the chilly night air, his expression seemed even more aloof.

After a beat, he looked away. "Alright."

Without another word, he turned and strode off.

Elodie hurried to call after him, "On the 24th, do you have time? I was hoping you could come for my mother's anniversary—"

"Check with Keith about my schedule. Get some rest. I have things to do tonight," he interrupted, barely glancing back before disappearing down the path.

He didn't even wait for her to finish her sentence.

But Elodie felt nothing—no anger, no disappointment.