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.

trust you won't make a fuss about what happened between

she understood—he was referring to that night their relationship had

spine; for a moment, she was stunned,

warning her not to stir up trouble between him and Sylvie, not to let

to worry," Elodie replied, meeting his eyes. Her tone left

could both rest

her gaze for a moment longer; in the chilly night air, his expression seemed even more

a beat, he looked away.

word, he turned and strode

have time? I was hoping you could come for my mother's

rest. I have things to do tonight," he interrupted, barely glancing back before disappearing down the

for her to finish

felt nothing-no anger,

many times

or suddenly out of town. Even when she'd pleaded for just half an hour, he'd never

needs are ignored enough times, your heart inevitably grows cold. But this year

memorial was one thing, but if he missed

Unless-

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

always busy, always elsewhere. She

returned to its familiar,

more

he showed

was nothing like

remember. No matter how busy he

find a