How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Elodie was caught off guard as Jarrod pulled her into his arms.

Pressed tightly against his chest, she could feel the heat radiating from his body- and the steady thump of his heartbeat, gradually calming.

"Are you awake?" she asked, trying to sit up. But Jarrod refused to let go; if anything, his arms tightened around her as soon as she spoke.

He murmured next to her cheek, voice rough and low, "Not until you got here. That's when I woke up."

Hearing his voice, so hoarse and strained, Elodie could imagine how awful he must be feeling. His skin was burning hot beneath her touch.

"Cara said you were in bad shape. Sit up and have some soup, then take your medicine and get some rest." Trapped in his embrace, Elodie found it impossible to move, especially since she was practically lying on top of him-so close it was almost disconcerting.

Jarrod stayed silent.

He still wouldn't let her go.

"Jarrod?" she called softly.

No reply.

Elodie pushed against his chest, trying to wriggle free. "Jarrod, come on-don't play dead."

Only then did he nuzzle her neck, almost imperceptibly, and answer in a lazy drawl, "I'm just pretending to be asleep. That way, in my dream, we're still in love."

Elodie was momentarily speechless.

Was this his way of cheating the moment?

insisted, refusing to indulge him. Sick or not, he needed some

little, glancing

handing it

didn't take the

I haven't eaten since yesterday. I can

"So?"

the corners of his mouth tilting up. "I'm afraid

eyebrow, catching the hint of mischief behind his aristocratic features. Was this his way of

recovering

the pillow, feigning innocence.

see he really wasn't well-his antics felt more like an effort

eight.

with a spoon. "Take care of

spoon to

at her

for a

throat tightened as memories threatened to

spoonful, Jarrod

really

I have, or

aching. "I just thought... you're not

set the bowl down and stood up, ready

"You're already here. Do you really

He always knew how to