How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Elodie stood rooted to the spot, her feet as heavy as stone. The absurdity of it all left her breathless.

Those casual, dismissive remarks-

They were nothing short of arrogance, treating her like a commodity on display.

Even the most basic act of having a child had become a matter of whether she was "qualified" enough.

In everyone's eyes, compared to someone like Sylvie a doctorate freshly returned from one of the world's top universities-Elodie simply didn't matter.

No one realized that these words were just another wound, piling atop her old

ones.

The truth was, once her treatment and surgery began, she'd lose the right to ever be a mother...

No wonder, she thought bitterly, even before the divorce, Jarrod had always been so indifferent when they shared a bed. Perhaps, even back then, he'd already decided-

She wasn't worthy of bearing his child.

Elodie didn't want to know how Jarrod had answered Lucinda's question.

His half-hearted replies to his grandmother over dinner told her everything: he had

no interest in having a child with her, and he must have agreed with Lucinda's opinion.

Clutching her bottle of pills, Elodie turned and made her way back to the bedroom.

Her breaths came shallow and shaky, her lips losing their color.

She unscrewed the pill bottle with numb, mechanical motions and swallowed a tablet dry. The bitterness spread, sharp and unforgiving, across her tongue.

She couldn't tell which was worse: the bitterness in her mouth, or the ache in her heart.

Closing her eyes for a moment, Elodie forced herself to regain composure.

was out of the question now. She sat at her desk and began reviewing the project details on her laptop-there was still so much to finalize before year's end, so many problems that

core data, she returned to bed

aerospace engineering, extracting useful insights

The door creaked open.

soft, amber glow of the lamp her silhouette delicate and solitary. She looked up at the sound, surprised

He hadn't left?

to the wardrobe, glancing at the book

was dense, highly technical-a modern classic in the field. He'd

that?" he asked, pulling a set of clothes from the closet. His tone was offhand,

condescending, but the question itself

eyes on the

read it cover to cover years ago-tonight, she was just revisiting

if seeing his quiet,

been working hard lately,"

gaze, catching the undertone. Was he implying

her,

didn't bother to explain herself.

bed toward the sofa. That's

a split second,

expression changed instantly. She swung out of bed, snapping the

so rarely showed this sharp, defensive edge, and now her eyes

hid some

hadn't caught what was on the screen. But Elodie's reaction reminded him of the time he'd once stumbled across something hidden in

same secret she was so fiercely

curling with a cold, mocking

his clothes and

frowned, her thoughts spinning. She realized she was probably overreacting-she'd already closed the file with the VistaLink

no way he could've

couldn't shake the memory of that strange look

shrugged it off, turned off the lamp, and