How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Chapter 169

Elodie's reaction was stronger than she let on. Even with her composed expression, her instinctive recoil and the way she brushed Jarrod's hand aside betrayed her discomfort.

It was pure reflex.

Jarrod stopped in his tracks.

Bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, his deep-set eyes seemed colder, more inscrutable.

He hadn't missed the subtle shifts in Elodie's mood.

He drew his hand back, his tone cool and even. "Fine. Suit yourself."

Turning away, Jarrod sank onto the leather sofa nearby. He reached for a cigarette, fingers searching for his lighter. But then he paused, frowning, and instead slid the cigarette back into its case.

Elodie didn't protest about taking her medicine. She threw back the covers, grabbed the pills Jarrod had brought, and swallowed them all in one go with a gulp of water.

As for the box of dried cranberries he'd left on the nightstand she didn't touch it.

Jarrod noticed that, too.

After all, they'd been married for three years. Elodie's health had never been robust; she was no stranger to migraines and fevers. Usually, she'd fuss forever before taking her medicine-afraid of the bitterness, reluctant to swallow anything dry. She'd eat handfuls of dried fruit or candy just to get a single pill down.

hadn't even looked at

bitter pills

had she stopped

couldn't let go of the ring. She looked at Jarrod, coming straight to

Jarrod glance at her, his

didn't know what he meant by that. Her hands clenched tight as she blurted,

gave a faint, dismissive laugh, eyes dark as ink. "Do

Elodie, but before she could

she feeling

The door opened.

entered

still feel unwell? Jarrod told me last night you had a fever-he couldn't even

a turn for the

woman worry. "Grandma, I'm fine now. It's

knew her concern was genuine. But at her age, she shouldn't be losing sleep over

days. It's good for me to get up and

Elodie hesitated, then nodded.

hadn't eaten since. Now her

her forehead before saying, "I'll have them make some