How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Chapter 92

The old woman's appetite had improved a lot; she even finished another half bowl

of soup.

The small pot of soup Elodie had simmered was nearly gone.

Even Jarrod had helped himself to more than a little.

Elodie wasn't surprised-he'd always appreciated her cooking.

After dinner, Jarrod stepped outside to take a call.

Elodie waited a few minutes, then followed him out.

She found him under the porch, smoking. Pulling her coat tighter around herself, she walked over. "Do you have a moment?"

She wanted to talk to him about attending her mother's memorial.

When he saw her coming, Jarrod shifted his cigarette away, then stubbed it out.

"How long have you been out here?" His gaze was sharp, scrutinizing.

Elodie realized what he meant he probably thought she'd overheard his conversation. Was it Sylvie on the line?

"Just now. Right after you hung up," she replied coolly, her chest rising and falling with the chill.

Finally, Jarrod glanced up at her, slipping one hand into his pocket. His tone was casual, almost detached. "I was drunk that night."

Elodie blinked, not following at first.

spoke slowly, almost lazily. "I trust

buzzed, and suddenly she understood—he was referring to that night their relationship

her spine; for a moment,

trouble between him and Sylvie, not to let that night

Mr. Silverstein. You don't need to worry," Elodie replied, meeting his eyes. Her tone left

could both

for a moment longer; in the chilly night air, his expression

he

word, he

him, "On the 24th, do you have time? I was hoping you could come for my

rest. I have things to do tonight," he interrupted, barely glancing back

wait for her to finish

felt nothing-no

been through this too many

mother's memorial, Jarrod never showed. He was always too busy with work or suddenly out of town. Even when she'd pleaded for just half an

ignored enough times, your heart inevitably grows

and the rest of the family were taking this third anniversary seriously. Skipping an ordinary memorial was one thing, but if he missed this formal gathering, the truth about their

Unless-

was willing to meet her grandmother before the anniversary and explain, face

was always busy, always elsewhere. She doubted

to

was nothing more than

Whether he showed up depended

was nothing

remember.

a way-no