How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue
Chapter 44
By the time Elodie reached the house, it was nearly nine. Rush hour traffic had eaten up most of her evening.
Cara, the housekeeper, looked surprised to see her. "Mrs. Sinclair, you're back! Have you eaten? Shall I make you something?"
Elodie offered a polite smile. "No need. I'm not staying long-I'll be leaving soon."
Cara's face clouded with concern. "You just got home and you're leaving again? Did you... have a fight with Mr. Sinclair?"
Elodie knelt to open the shoe cabinet, searching for a pair of disposable slippers. "No," she replied simply.
And it was true.
The reality was, Jarrod had a habit of treating her as if she were invisible.
His indifference hurt more than any argument ever could.
Except for the few predictable days each month, they barely spoke at all. Fights? They never happened.
Now, they were simply getting divorced.
Cara had been the housekeeper since their wedding, and she thought she knew Elodie well-thought she was just being stubborn and prideful.
Cara couldn't help but try to coax her. "Mrs. Sinclair, there's no hurdle you can't get over. Couples argue and make up—that's marriage. Didn't you always say so yourself?"
"You love Mr. Sinclair so much, and you're lost without him. If this blows up..."
Would you really be able to back down gracefully?
In the end, you'd just swallow your pride and come crawling back. That's how it always looked.
Elodie paused, momentarily dazed.
this was how everyone saw
pain, to accept everything without complaint, to bend over backwards
ever imagined she might be the one to let
lips together in silence, then changed the subject. "Has
Cara hesitated. "Not much..."
figured. You should get some rest," Elodie said, as
course Jarrod wasn't
Sylvie now a warm, welcoming
had two: one was Jarrod's private sanctuary, strictly
up with the world,
place-she'd decorated it herself, after all-so she quickly found the book she was looking
the books she wanted to
bit of exertion left her
body had grown weaker
ask Cara to help her carry the box downstairs—and only then did she notice the
pristine layer had
at her phone.
car as Cara went off to bed. But after several attempts,
She tried again. Nothing.
use the
checked the time.
main road would take half an hour, and cabs
frowned, fatigue weighing
late, and she was too
to stay
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