How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Chapter 231

Elodie's leisurely pace slowed as she caught snippets of conversation nearby.

She frowned, surprised she couldn't even take a walk without overhearing Jarrod and his friends outside, smoking and chatting.

Then Maurice mentioned the nursery.

From the moment she and Jarrod had moved into their townhouse after the wedding, the floor plan had been set: the third floor was Jarrod's domain—his study, home gym, and a sitting room for entertaining guests. The second floor belonged to their bedroom, and Elodie had a small office and walk-in closet of her

own.

Not once had they discussed setting up a nursery. Even after years of marriage, Jarrod had never brought up having children. In fact, he'd always seemed indifferent, content to postpone the topic indefinitely.

Now, suddenly, he'd gutted their marital home to redesign it-complete with a nursery.

She could only assume he'd finally found true love.

If even a man like Jarrod could change, anything was possible.

over to hear more. She turned calmly and headed upstairs, unconcerned with what Jarrod's answer might

into her room, her phone rang. It was her grandmother, Rosemary, asking about her plans for tomorrow's

hesitated, unsure of how she wanted to celebrate, and told Rosemary she'd decide once she finished her

downstairs, Elodie organized a printed summary of her analysis-Mr. Charlie Sterling preferred paper to anything

a message from Esmeralda Mercer: Happy birthday! The gift's ready-she'd give it to Elodie when

smiled to herself, pocketed her

elevator behind her, accidentally clipped her arm.

The person immediately apologized.

fine," Elodie said with a wave, not the least bit bothered, and bent down

gather them, a pair of long legs stepped into view

one of the documents he'd picked up. He froze,

line. Annoyance flickered across her face as she quickly snatched

Elodie at first —he'd just seen someone in need

catching the cool irritation in her eyes, he frowned. "Ms. Thorne, is this how you thank

papers away, her gaze chilly. "Sometimes, unsolicited

argue. Turning away, she strode