How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Marrying Jarrod wasn't a choice Elodie made freely; each step along the way had left her with no other options.

She couldn't argue with Alexander's words.

Alexander stood up. "I'll go grab you some water. Wait here."

Elodie glanced at the IV drip, nearly finished now, and considered calling a nurse to remove the needle. But the ER was in chaos-nurses bustling everywhere, no one to spare a moment. She climbed out of bed and took a few steps, but seeing no one available, she leaned against the wall to rest.

Nearby, two women were chatting idly.

"Guess who I just saw? Mr. Silverstein from The Silverstein Group! He rushed into the hospital just now!"

Elodie thought she'd misheard.

Jarrod? Here, at the hospital?

Could he actually be here for her?

The idea seemed far-fetched. He never spent more effort on her than absolutely necessary.

The women's voices floated over again. "Mr. Silverstein brought a stunning woman with him. You should've seen how anxious he was about her."

Of course.

neither surprise nor disappointment. They were

conspiratorially. "Between us, I think they're here

a prenatal appointment made Elodie's hand drift unconsciously to her belly—the place she'd soon lose the ability to carry

felt

sharp, persistent ache in her chest reminded her that some wounds can't be forgotten just because you tell yourself to let

you doing wandering

easygoing voice

turned and, to her surprise, found Ivan standing

watching her with a wry

wet her parched throat.

and said you fainted. They needed your ID

remembered-she'd had the same phone number for years, and way back when, Ivan had grabbed her phone and set himself

no matter what, he'd be there for

But now...

Elodie said quietly.

fainted from a cold and a fever? Elodie, you're

admirers swarming around him. Whenever Elodie got jealous or upset, she'd magically come down with some "illness" or "injury" that

the hand he held, then calmly pulled her wrist free and