How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

"You came from nothing, your education is average at best—what, is Jarrod supposed to go around telling people his wife's a stay-at-home mom?" Lucinda's tone was frosty, her words edged with contempt she barely tried to hide.noveldrama

There was nothing about this daughter-in-law she approved of-absolutely nothing. Lucinda had never wanted Elodie in this family, but back then, they'd had no other choice. Even now, she pitied her own son for ending up with someone like her.

Sylvie, on the other hand-the woman Jarrod had been spending more and more time with lately-was at least presentable. Her family was no match for the Silversteins, but at least she had a real education, something Elodie could never compete with.

Elodie understood exactly what Lucinda was implying, but she kept her voice steady. "You won't have to worry about that much longer."

Lucinda's eyes narrowed. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

Before Elodie could reply, a car horn sounded outside.

A tall figure appeared in the foyer. Jarrod's dark eyes swept over the room, taking in the scene. Over the past three years, he'd witnessed his mother's endless attempts to make Elodie's life difficult. Elodie never protested-she'd swallow every insult with downcast eyes and quiet obedience. She never seemed to mind, so why should he get involved?

"I got held up," Jarrod said, his gaze flicking past Elodie as he came to stand beside her. "Grandma, why the long face?"

As he moved closer, Elodie caught the faint scent of perfume on his coat. It wasn't his-the lingering note of white musk was unmistakably feminine.

Sylvie. Only if they'd been close for a while would his clothes have picked up her perfume so strongly.

Grandma patted Jarrod's arm, feigning annoyance. "You finally made it home! What was so important you had to be late?"

Jarrod just smiled, offering no explanation. "I'm starving. Can we eat now?"

His arrival cut Lucinda off mid-rant. With a scowl in Elodie's direction, Lucinda stood up. "I have no appetite. You two go ahead."

Grandma knew Lucinda had never truly accepted Elodie into the family, but she let it go and ushered Elodie and Jarrod toward the dining room.

Octavia burst in just then, spotted Elodie, and didn't bother greeting her. Instead, she bounced happily to Jarrod's side, plopping herself down in the seat beside him.

Whether by accident or intent, Octavia had placed herself squarely between Elodie and Jarrod.

Grandma noticed at once. "Octavia, your sister-in-law is right here. Come sit by me."

"I need to talk to Jarrod about something," Octavia chirped, glancing at Elodie. "You don't mind, do you?"

Elodie sat down calmly. "Be my guest."

Jarrod looked up at her, surprised by her easy answer.

Elodie pretended not to notice. In the old days, she would have clung to his side at every opportunity, always hoping for a spark of affection, always claiming the seat next to him. But now that divorce was on the horizon, what was the point? "Cara, bring Jarrod that soup from the kitchen," Grandma called.

A moment later, someone set a bowl in front of him—a dish made especially for Jarrod.

He lifted the lid and peered inside, his handsome face unreadable. "Grandma, I'm fine. I really don't need this."

Elodie glanced over, her eyes pausing as she recognized the dish.

Turtle and herbal root soup-rich, nourishing, meant to boost stamina and virility.

Grandma beamed and ladled out a bowl for him. "No one ever suffered from being too healthy. I've been simmering this for three hours. A happy marriage is built on harmony, you know."

Octavia, too young to understand, just glanced at the soup and quickly turned back to her meal.

Elodie ignored it as well. Grandma was still hoping they'd spend more nights together and give her another grandchild. But Elodie's health made that impossible—and as for Jarrod, their rare nights together had always been more duty than desire. It was safe to say he was indifferent, at best.

Especially now, with divorce looming.

As expected, Jarrod accepted the bowl but never touched a drop.

Grandma sighed, defeated, her hopes dashed once again. Why couldn't this stubborn boy see what a good woman Elodie was?

Throughout dinner, Elodie's mind kept circling back to the conversation she needed to have. She waited for Jarrod to bring it up, but he kept silent. She found herself glancing at him, again and again.

Jarrod felt her eyes on him and finally looked up, catching her gaze.

His eyes were clear and cold, his brow furrowed in what looked like irritation.

Five times in twenty minutes-she'd looked at him at least that often, ever since Grandma served him that "special" soup.

Her lack of restraint left him visibly uncomfortable.