How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 626

Her words flowed smoothly, never missing a beat.

Neither of them seemed willing to give any ground; it was a deadlock.

Jarrod, however, kept his eyes on her for a long moment, the silence between them thick and unsettling.

Finally, he nodded slowly, unhurried. “You think you and I are a good match?”

Elodie looked at him, bewildered.

Was that really the point he wanted to focus on?

Still, she had to admit, he wasn’t entirely wrong about some things.

Back when she was with Ivan, he always used the “older brother” card to keep her in line, constantly monitoring her life. He had a temper, too, and loved to nitpick, so much so that she’d find herself hesitating over every decision—would Ivan approve? Was she making the right choice or the wrong one?

Even as a teenager, she knew Ivan had helped her a lot, but she was also painfully aware of how possessive and controlling he could be, far beyond what their relationship warranted.

But during the years she spent with Jarrod, things were different.

With him, she never had that uneasy feeling.

He wasn’t like Ivan, not at all.

At the very least, even when things fell apart between them, Jarrod never made her feel worthless. If anything, he taught her she was valuable, that she had every right to say no, and that being herself wasn’t some insurmountable challenge.

But then Sylvie showed up, and that changed everything.

So, no—Elodie wasn’t about to humiliate herself by clinging to something that was already broken.

“That’s not the point,” she said, exhaling as she turned and headed toward the kitchen.

Jarrod’s gaze followed her, his tone casual: “When did you finally let Ivan go?”

She stopped in her tracks.

The memories came rushing back, crisp and clear.

Or maybe, she realized, she’d always been a bit confused—emotions muddled together. Only after marrying Jarrod did the differences become obvious: the line between love and family, dependence and infatuation, sharp and unmistakable. In the end, she could feel how Jarrod had slowly taken over her heart, fitting into every gap until there was no room left for anyone else.

She was never great at expressing herself.

But with Jarrod, those few years—they were real, and she’d loved him with everything she had.

It was just that life had other plans, and people changed.

She had no idea what he was trying to get at.

But—

“Does it really matter if the hat is dark green or light green?” she shot back.

The result’s the same, isn’t it?

Jarrod finally stood up. Her place had always just been hers, and suddenly there was this tall, imposing man in it—someone who could fill the whole room with his presence. He stepped behind her, reached out, and retied the apron around her waist where it had come undone.

“Elodie, you loved the wrong person. I didn’t. In that, I guess I got lucky.”

Elodie tried to turn and look at him.

She couldn’t quite make sense of that.

He pressed a hand gently to her head, stopping her from facing him.

“I do mean it when I say thank you. You helped me work through a few things tonight.”

His tone stayed even, patient, as he added, “Just so you know, I’ll be showing up in your life a lot more from now on. But for tonight, I’ll leave you in peace.”