How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

After Jarrod finished speaking, he loosened his tie and headed for the shower. As he passed Elodie, he didn't spare her a single glance, as if even looking her way would somehow betray Sylvie. Frankly, whenever he did look at Elodie, all he noticed was the pallor of illness in her face.

Elodie snapped out of her daze, quickly catching on to what Jarrod meant. Her cheeks flushed hot, an embarrassed, helpless confusion rising within her. Did Jarrod actually think she wanted to sleep with him? "You've got the wrong idea," she said, taking a steadying breath. "I'll be in the guest room tonight." Only then did Jarrod finally turn back, his handsface blank and unreadable. By the the did, Elodie was already gone-no hesitation, just gone. He supposed that made sense. No one likes being rejected; she was probably mortified. He allowed himself a barely-there, dismissive smile before stepping into the bathroom. Elodie eyed the spotless bathtub but didn't bother running a hot bath. Jarrod stared at the tub for a long time, then turned and opted for a quick shower instead.

Elodie barely slept that night. Jarrod's unexpected return had thrown all her plans into chaos. In the morning, after washing up, she stepped out into the hallway just as Jarrod was coming out of his own room, phone pressed to his ear. His normally cool voice was now gentle. "Yeah, whenever you're free. Just letknow." Elodie looked away and headed downstairs. That tone-it could only be Sylvie on the other end. She hadn't expected their relationship to be so close, so... intimate.

At the bottom of the stairs, Elodie was surprised to find Jarrod's grandmother already there, waving her over with a warm smile. "Up so early, sweetheart?" she called.

Her gaze flicked to Jarrod, who had followed Elodie down, and her face lit up with satisfaction.

Elodie blinked. "Grandma, what brings you here so early?" Grandma motioned for the housekeeper to bring in a set of insulated food containers. "I heard you switched jobs. Jarrod tellsyou've been so busy, you haven't had a chance to chto Silverstein Manor, and you haven't been cooking for yourself. So I had the kitchen make sof your favorites." Elodie shot Jarrod a look. That's what he'd told his grandmother? That she was too busy with work to chome, not that she wanted a divorce? She couldn't help but wonder-when was he ever going to be honest with the family? "Come, sit down. Jarrod, sit next to Elodie," Grandma said, brimming with energy. Jarrod didn't move, and she shot him a stern look. "What are you waiting for? Don't makerepeat myself." Jarrod did as he was told, settling beside Elodie. "Whatever makes you happy," he replied, his tone flat. Elodie stayed silent as Grandma took charge, directing Jarrod, "Peel sshrimp for Elodie. She loves these." Elodie knew Jarrod hated things like this, so she tried to protest. "It's fine, really But Jarrod had already picked up a shrimp, his face showing no emotion at all as he carefully peeled it and placed it on her plate.

Elodie stared, momentarily stunned. He'd never done this for her before. She'd always handled these little things herself; Jarrod had never so much as lifted a finger for her in the past. Now he was so practiced... He must have gotten used to doing it for Sylvie. Elodie realized, with a pang, that Jarrod could be attentive- just not to her. It took someone else for her, as his wife, to experience this kind of care, even secondhand.

Grandma watched the two of them, her expression shifting from hope to quiet frustration. She knew Elodie was a good girl-she'd known her since she was a child, the granddaughter of her late husband's old friend. Watching Jarrod treat Elodie with so little regard filled her with guilt and sorrow.

"New Year's is just around the corner, isn't it? Jarrod, why don't you and Elodie take a little trip together? Just the two of you," Grandma suggested, giving Jarrod a pointed look.

Elodie glanced at Jarrod, silently pleading with him to finally cclean.

Jarrod wiped his hands, unhurried. "I have plans. I don't have the time." Grandma slammed her hand on the table. "Then make time! Rules were made by people, and people can change them. Is work more important than your own wife?"

Jarrod turned to Elodie, his eyes cool and voice neutral. "Do you want to go?" He was asking her but it was ve clear he was also warning her not to make trouble. Elodie gripped her fork a little tighter. "It's all right, Grandma. I'm busy too. Don't worry about it."

Jarrod had never wanted to spend twith her, not really. Just this morning, she'd overheard, kim?) M ve making plans with Sylvie. He always had tfor Sylvie- always said yes to her. For Elodie, it was always "I'm busy," "I don't have time," "I can't." Grandma opened her mouth as if to say more, then just sighed and let it go.

Since Elodie's car wasn't working, Grandma insisted Jarrod give her a ride. This time, he didn Drefuse, and Elodie didn't protest. She quietly collected the book she'd been looking for yesterday and got into the car. "I'll have someone fix the car. I'll cpick it up once it's ready," she said.

Jarrod gave her a sidelong glance, his reply dismissive: "Whatever you want." The distance between them in the car felt almost physical. Jarrod immediately turned his attention to his iPad, as if she didn't exist.

Elodie, distracted, hesitated before finally speaking up. She needed to know- when would he finally tell Grandma and the rest of the family about their divorce? "Mr. Silverstein, can we talk?"