How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Elodie stood rooted to the spot, her feet as heavy as stone. The absurdity of it all left her breathless.

Those casual, dismissive remarks- They were nothing short of arrogance, treating her like a commodity on display.

Even the most basic act of having a child had beca matter of whether she was "qualified" enough.

In everyone's eyes, compared to someone like Sylvie a doctorate freshly returned from one of the world's top universities-Elodie simply didn't matter.

No one realized that these words were just another wound, piling atop her old ones.

The truth was, once her treatment and surgery began, she'd lose the right to ever be a mother...

No wonder, she thought bitterly, even before the divorce, Jarrod had always been so indifferent when they shared a bed. Perhaps, even back then, he'd already decided- She wasn't worthy of bearing his child.

Elodie didn't want to know how Jarrod had answered Lucinda's question.

His half-hearted replies to his grandmother over dinner told her everything: he had no interest in having a child with her, and he must have agreed with Lucinda's opinion. Clutching her bottle of pills, Elodie turned and made her way back to the bedroom.

Her breaths cshallow and shaky, her lips losing their color.

She unscrewed the pill bottle with numb, mechanical motions and swallowed a tablet dry. The bitterness spread, sharp and unforgiving, across her tongue.

She couldn't tell which was worse: the bitterness in her mouth, or the ache in her heart.

Closing her eyes for a moment, Elodie forced herself to regain composure.

Sleep was out of the question now. She sat at her desk and began reviewing the project details on her laptop- there was still so much to finalize before year's end, so many problems that needed her oversight.

After updating sof the core data, she returned to bed and picked up a book.

Lately, she'd been carrying around a few technical volumes on aerospace engineering, extracting useful insights as she read through the intricate algorithms.

The door creaked open.

Jarrod entered, his gaze falling on the woman sitting in the soft, amber glow of the lamp her silhouette delicate and solitary. She looked up at the sound, surprised to see him.

He hadn't left? Jarrod crossed to the wardrobe, glancing at the book in her hands-*Orbital Mechanics: Theory and Application*. He'd read it himself. It was dense, highly technical-a modern classic in the field. He'd even recommended it to Sylvie recently, though she'd struggled through it, page by page.

"Can you actually understand that?" he asked, pulling a set of clothes from the closet. His tone was offhand, almost lazy.

He wasn't overtly condescending, but the question itself made Elodie bristle.

She kept her eyes on the page. "Well enough." She'd read it cover to cover years ago-tonight, she was just revisiting it, searching for new perspectives. Jarrod watched her, narrowing his eyes as if seeing his quiet, even-tempered wife for the first time.

"You've been working hard lately," he observed.

Elodie met his gaze, catching the undertone. Was he implying she was trying to copy Sylvie? Trailing after her, desperate to catch up? The thought was ridiculous, but she didn't bother to explain herself. Whatever Jarrod thought was his own business.

He said nothing more, looping around the bed toward the sofa. That's when he paused, catching sight of her still- glowing laptop screen.

For a split second, he froze-just staring.

Elodie's expression changed instantly. She swung out of bed, snapping the laptop shut with a cold, guarded look. "What did you see?" Jarrod finally looked at her-really looked. She so rarely showed this sharp, defensive edge, and now her eyes were cool, wary, almost irritated.

As if her computer hid sdeep, unspoken secret.

In truth, Jarrod hadn't caught what was on the screen. But Elodie's reaction reminded him of the the'd once stumbled across something hidden in her files...

Was it that ssecret she was so fiercely protecting? His gaze hardened, lips curling with a cold, mocking smile. He didn't answer her, just gathered his clothes and walked out.

Elodie frowned, her thoughts spinning. She realized she was probably overreacting-she'd already closed the file with the Vista Link Technologies project specs. There was no way he could've seen anything important.

Still, she couldn't shake the memory of that strange look in his eyes.

She shrugged it off, turned off the lamp, and got into bed.

As for Jarrod, she doubted he'd be coming back tonight.

She'd barely managed to drift off when she heard the door open again.

Steady footsteps crossed the room. In the darkness, Elodie's eyes m snapped open, watching as a tall, familiar figure approached the other side of the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight.

Even with a safe distance between them, she could smell the faint scent of cedar on him—the sscent that had haunted her for years-along with the undeniable burn of his presence.

She went rigid, lying perfectly still.

Why hadn't he left? Why had he cback? Confusion buzzed in her mind. The divorce was all but settled-sharing a bed now felt deeply strange.

But Jarrod lay down and didn't move again.

He didn't touch her. He seemed to fall asleep instantly, completely om uninterested in the woman beside him. Elodie's nerves finally eased, muscle by muscle.

No doubt, he'd returned just to keep up appearances for his Ve grandmother-he'd always been so controlled, so distant with her. Even when they had shared a bed, it had been obligatory, never a matter of passion or desire. With that realization, sleep finally crept in.

Elodie was jolted awake by the vibrating phone at her bedside. Still half-asleep, she fumbled to answer.

A woman's playful voice cthrough the speaker: "Morning, Jarrod. Are you pickingup soon?" Elodie snapped fully awake, a chill washing over her.

"Jarrod? Is someone there with you?" The voice on the other end was suddenly suspicious.