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.

calmly and headed upstairs,

as she stepped into her room, her phone rang. It was her grandmother,

blinked in surprise—she'd nearly forgotten her own birthday was so soon. She hesitated, unsure of how she wanted to celebrate, and told Rosemary she'd decide once

organized a printed summary of her analysis-Mr. Charlie Sterling preferred

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

herself, pocketed her phone, and started

the elevator behind her, accidentally clipped her arm.

The person immediately apologized.

fine," Elodie said with a wave, not the least

she could gather them, a pair of long legs stepped into view and someone

of the documents

Elodie realized it was Naylor, her lips pressed into a thin line. Annoyance flickered across her face as

it was Elodie at first —he'd just seen someone in need of help. Had he known, he wouldn't have

irritation in her eyes, he frowned. "Ms. Thorne, is this how you thank someone who's

chilly. "Sometimes, unsolicited help only makes

to argue. Turning away, she strode