How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Chapter 113

Queenie clung to Ivan's arm, but he just took a long drag from his cigarette and patted her on the head. "Enough, go inside and wait for the results. I'll finish my smoke and come find you."

She caught the careless, unmoved look on his face and knew he wasn't letting her get away with any games. Reluctantly, she tugged at his sleeve. "Alright, but don't take too long."

She'd smashed Ivan's favorite mug earlier, and when she saw his anger, she felt a strange mix of nervousness and sweetness. Instinctively, she faked a

stomachache to defuse his temper.

Thankfully, after sweeping up the broken pieces, Ivan had taken her straight to the hospital.

His concern for her made it impossible for Queenie to admit she'd been faking.

Once Queenie disappeared toward the emergency room, Ivan finally turned his gaze in the direction Elodie had gone.

For a moment, he wondered:

Did Elodie see what just happened?

Would her eyes be red with anger again?

and

was about to get in

up and saw

expression, surprised there wasn't a hint of hurt in her eyes. He frowned

you know and not even say hello?"

lips together. She honestly hadn't expected Ivan to follow her. "It's dark-I didn't see

ran off like you were being chased? You've been married before, haven't you? What's with the shy act-just because someone

caught the bite in his words; everything

composure. "Is there

noticing her cold indifference, instinctively drew his cigarette away and stubbed it out. "You saw and walked away. Isn't that

games with him. He'd never been able

finding it all ridiculous. "You're mistaken. What you do with your girlfriend is none

so? When Jarrod was spoiling his mistress, Mrs. Silverstein, I

knew her almost as well as her closest family-to twist the knife about her and

nothing, turning away to get

grinned, voice low

the security

were dark and unreadable; his face betrayed nothing,

thought, He's probably