How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Hearing those words from Jarrod's lips—those three simple words—used to be all

she ever dreamed of.

But now, when they came so suddenly, Elodie, even as she could see the

sincerity in his eyes, still found herself stunned. Jarrod didn't give her time to think

or react. He held her hand, his thumb brushing gently across her skin, and spoke

each word with care, "For the best chance at recovery, your uterus... Let's remove

it, alright?"

He paused, took a breath, and continued, "Let's not get divorced, okay? I'll make

sure you get the very best treatment, I'll find the top specialists in the world for

you. I won't let anything happen to you. Whether or not you can have children in

the future... it doesn't matter to me. I've never cared about whether you could

bring me any 'value' that way. All I want is for you to be healthy. This time, please

—just listen to me, alright?"

He tried to soften his voice, his gaze almost pleading, because he couldn't bear

the risk of any more setbacks or tragedies. The thought of Elodie suffering

through a painful recurrence was unthinkable.

Elodie was quiet for a long while. The truth was, she hadn't made her decision

yet. When it's your own body, hesitation comes naturally. Once, she might have

just felt heartbroken but would have decided quickly: just take it out. But after

carrying that child who never got to be born, she was left with a lingering sense of

loss. That feeling clung to her, pulling at her nerves.

She lay back on the bed, suddenly feeling powerless in this critical moment. "Let

me think about it," she murmured.

Jarrod watched her closely, easily sensing her sorrow. But Elodie didn't want to

dwell on the matter. She closed her eyes, trying to rest. Jarrod stayed by her side

for a long moment, and when he saw her exhaustion overtake her once again, he

gently squeezed her hand and whispered, almost too softly to hear, "So many

illnesses are brought on by stress... I won't deny the pain I've caused you. Just

give me a bit more time. If I could, I'd trade my life to make it right."

By the next day, Elodie was feeling better, so she went straight to see Rosemary.

She was genuinely grateful to Jarrod for yesterday as well—he'd reassured her

grandmother and the others, and spared them from seeing her in such a fragile

state. She didn't want to frighten her grandmother.

Jarrod drove Elodie back to Rosemary's old family estate. He knew the two of

them needed to talk in private, so he didn't intrude. He lingered by the gate for a

moment before getting back into his car and heading straight to the Silverstein

Mansion.

The investigation was still ongoing, but as for Patricia and her associates... Jarrod

already had a rough idea of what he needed to do.

He also needed to give the family matriarch an update about Elodie—there was

no avoiding a visit.

But as he stepped into the courtyard, he immediately noticed a car he didn't

recognize parked out front.

Jarrod crossed the drive with long,

steady strides and entered the

house. As he'd suspected, there in

the parlor was Patricia, chatting

amiably with Lucinda and the others.

Hearing his arrival, Patricia turned, arching an eyebrow at him with a pleasant

smile. "You're back?"

Sprague Silverstein was seated across from Patricia. He stood up to pour her a

cup of tea, his gaze warm as he handed it over.

Jarrod, after reconciling things with

Elodie, kept his expression

unreadable and didn't break stridenoveldrama

as he walked past, heading straight

for the back garden.

Lucinda, noticing his attitude, pressed her lips together and got up to follow.

Patricia, left in his wake, didn't appear bothered. After all, she'd been ignored by

Jarrod plenty of times over the years.

But Elinor, seated nearby, was

already scheming. With a polite

smile, she said to Patricia, "Jarrod's

always been like that—completely

different from Sprague. Sprague's

much more easygoing, and besides,

you and Sprague are about the

same age, aren't you, Miss

Aldridge?"

Sprague's eyes flickered with something unspoken.

Patricia replied unhurriedly, "We've known each other for quite a while. When I

held an art exhibition abroad, Mr. Silverstein came by a few times."

Sprague didn't seem fazed. "That's right. I've always admired your work, Miss

Aldridge. In fact, I've bought a few of your paintings before."