How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

After Jarrod finished speaking, he loosened his tie and headed for the shower. As he passed Elodie, he didn't spare her a single glance, as if even looking her way would somehow betray Sylvie. Frankly, whenever he did look at Elodie, all he noticed was the pallor of illness in her face.

Elodie snapped out of her daze, quickly catching on to what Jarrod meant. Her cheeks flushed hot, an embarrassed, helpless confusion rising within her. Did Jarrod actually think she wanted to sleep with him?

"You've got the wrong idea," she said, taking a steadying breath. "I'll be in the guest room tonight."

Only then did Jarrod finally turn back, his handsome face blank and unreadable. By the time he did, Elodie was already gone-no hesitation, just gone. He supposed that made sense. No one likes being rejected; she was probably mortified. He allowed himself a barely-there, dismissive smile before stepping into the bathroom.

Elodie eyed the spotless bathtub but didn't bother running a hot bath. Jarrod stared at the tub for a long time, then turned and opted for a quick shower instead.

Elodie barely slept that night. Jarrod's unexpected return had thrown all her plans into chaos. In the morning, after washing up, she stepped out into the hallway just as Jarrod was coming out of his own room, phone pressed to his ear. His normally cool voice was now gentle. "Yeah, whenever you're free. Just let me know."

Elodie looked away and headed downstairs. That tone-it could only be Sylvie on the other end. She hadn't expected their relationship to be so close, so... intimate.

At the bottom of the stairs, Elodie was surprised to find Jarrod's grandmother already there, waving her over with a warm smile. "Up so early, sweetheart?" she called.

Her gaze flicked to Jarrod, who had followed Elodie down, and her face lit up with satisfaction.

"Grandma, what brings

motioned for the housekeeper to bring in a set of insulated food containers. "I heard you switched jobs. Jarrod tells me you've been so busy, you haven't had a chance to come home to Silverstein Manor, and you haven't been cooking for yourself.

a look. That's what he'd told his grandmother? That she was too busy with work to come home, not that she wanted a divorce? She couldn't

Jarrod, sit next to Elodie," Grandma said, brimming with energy. Jarrod didn't move, and she shot him a

was told, settling beside Elodie. "Whatever makes you happy," he replied, his tone

charge, directing Jarrod, "Peel some shrimp for

things like this, so she tried to protest.

picked up a shrimp, his face showing no emotion at all as he carefully peeled it and placed it

as lifted a finger for her in the past. Now he was so practiced... He must have gotten used to doing it for Sylvie. Elodie realized, with

them, her expression shifting from hope to quiet frustration. She knew Elodie was a good girl-she'd known her since she was a child, the granddaughter of her late

why don't you and Elodie take a little trip together? Just the

glanced at Jarrod, silently pleading with him to

unhurried. "I have plans. I don't

hand on the table. "Then make time! Rules were made by people, and people can change them.