How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Chapter 174

Elodie sat in silence for a while, her thoughts drifting.

No wonder Jarrod had rushed off in such a hurry.

So, he'd left because he was worried Sylvie hadn't eaten and might wear herself out.

She simply replied, "Alright."

It turned out skipping meals wasn't just a threat mothers wielded-it was something lovers worried over, too.

After texting Alexander back, Elodie collapsed weakly onto the couch, not even having the strength to make it to her bedroom.

No matter how often it happened, she could never get used to this pain.

This time, it was especially brutal.

She almost couldn't help but want to call Jarrod for help.

But, in a way, it was a relief that Sylvie's crisis had distracted him; he was too preoccupied to notice how she felt like she was dying.

Of course, Elodie didn't fool herself into thinking that, even if Jarrod did notice something was wrong, he'd choose to stay by her side.

She was just grateful that her illness was still a secret.

Once her uncle's health finally turned a corner, she'd be free to confess everything.

Silverstein & Co.

Sylvie had already been working almost

She looked exhausted.

and said gently, "Go home and get

with this, Jarrod. I need to see it

up, "Ms. Fielding, Mr. Silverstein's just concerned

mood lifted at that, and she smiled brightly. "Jarrod,

behind his desk, eyes scanning a detailed report on his

forward and helped

Sylvie reached for the spoon, her hands shook from low blood sugar, and a splash of soup, along with a wilted vegetable leaf,

wipe it off,

said to Keith,

crisp white men's dress shirt,

this a man's shirt? Where did

wasn't thrilled about wearing just anything that turned

was all sticky and uncomfortable, so I grabbed this for you

she heard it belonged to Jarrod, Sylvie's expression softened— surprised

wearing a man's dress shirt meant something more; between a

Jarrod's, I don't mind—I'll wear

Jarrod looked up. "Where did you get

recall keeping any

the spare cabinet in your

was hardly

had carefully chosen and sent over the years-shirts, ties, cufflinks,

from there, figuring Mr. Silverstein never wore or even looked at them. If Ms.

change as he stood and took the shirt from Keith's hands. "Don't wear this. Go buy her something