How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

In that brief moment between movements, there was a sudden knock at the door.

A hotel staff member entered, pushing the door open.

She walked right in on a scene that made her pause in surprise.

Her unexpected arrival completely cut off Jarrod's intentions and actions.

It was a white woman, balancing a tray with chilled drinks-clearly sensing the charged, delicate atmosphere hanging in the air.

She offered an apologetic, knowing smile. "Sorry to interrupt, you two. Just bringing your drinks-sometimes a little wine is just what the evening calls for."

It was obvious that she was unfazed by such situations; she even winked playfully at Elodie.

After setting down the drinks, she turned on her heel and left as nonchalantly as she'd come.

Elodie knew her. The woman seemed easygoing, but in reality, she was one of their security detail for this trip—a formidable bodyguard beneath the friendly exterior.

Jarrod, meanwhile, was left visibly frustrated by the interruption, his expression darkening.

His displeasure was written all over his face.

The woman just smiled and sauntered away, but the mood had been thoroughly broken.

Jarrod's refined features tightened in a slight frown as he considered what to do next.

As he was lost in thought, Elodie offered a gentle, reassuring smile. She leaned in, her left hand caressing his cheek, and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth—a small gesture of comfort.

Jarrod responded to her kiss, instinctively leaning into her touch, the corner of his mouth lifting beneath her lips.

After the brief kiss, Elodie feigned innocence. "I'm really tired. Haven't slept well these past few days."

taken away by Watts, she'd barely had any rest, her nerves

relax, exhaustion

He simply pulled her into his arms. "Go ahead and sleep. I'll

to be close to her, of course, but seeing her so worn out tugged at his heartstrings. What

on her own, but Jarrod had no intention of letting her go. One long leg tangled around

protest, and just let herself drift off

hit her hard

glanced down at her, his palm moving in a

Financial Times from the

no idea

finally stirred, half-awake, she opened her eyes to find Jarrod holding up his phone,

She caught him red-handed.

wide awake, she

his phone.

of me? And

the

Jarrod, let me

about her looks,

position, there

his arm out of her

up,

Cooded her. "Nope. Get

bet

we're landing."

in a blink, clearly refusing to show

his phone into his

gritted her