How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Chapter 304

Elodie couldn't help frowning. She really disliked people making decisions behind her back.

Swiping her keycard, she got ready to go inside.

Just then, Jarrod, standing beside her, reached for the doorknob. As his fingers brushed the handle, he tapped it lightly-almost absentmindedly-before glancing over at her. His tone was casual but distant. "Your presentation today was solid. Well done."

The compliment caught her off guard. Elodie paused, brow furrowing as she turned to look at him.

But Jarrod didn't seem interested in further conversation. After saying his piece, he disappeared inside.

Elodie blinked, baffled. She couldn't make sense of him-but honestly, she didn't have the energy to bother.

She went in, set the flowers aside, took a shower, and, like clockwork, swallowed her daily medication.

Yet sleep eluded her. Restless, she opened her laptop and spent some time organizing her notes on the military project she'd been assigned.

neck and finally decided to get some sleep,

a familiar ache began to twist

knew this pain far too

to her chest, waiting for the wave to pass. Any

while, she lay down and closed her eyes, but sleep wouldn't come. Her

she couldn't rest, maybe a soak in the herbal hot

still gathered on the other side for a late-night

modest-a lake-blue bikini that made her pale skin look almost luminous. In the past, her marriage to Jarrod

the schemer, once insisted, "Come on, he's still a man. Try spicing things up." Esmeralda had even bought her a collection of daring

She'd changed into a particularly risqué nightgown, her whole body tense and flushed

up, barely glancing at her, his face unreadable. He showed no spark

voice was cool and remote:

night. He took an overseas call and left, not sparing