How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

"My feelings for him-whether it was family affection or any kind of emotional

dependence-never once crossed into our marriage."

Elodie spoke with a calm that came from deep exhaustion. There was nothing left

for her to hide; Jarrod knew everything now.noveldrama

She was done letting him believe that during those three years of marriage, she'd

been unfaithful in her heart. If nothing else, she owed herself that much honesty.

Jarrod's lashes trembled. Red tinged the corners of his eyes as he kept his gaze

fixed on her.

Elodie closed her eyes, her voice steady and soft. "Jarrod, I did love you."

During those three years, she had given him everything-her whole heart, her

entire self. But she wasn't one for grand declarations; her love was quiet, almost

weightless in the air, yet it landed in his chest like a stone cast into a still lake,

sending ripples through everything he thought he knew.

He felt his heart twist painfully, realizing that in all the years she had loved him, he

had only ever misunderstood her.

Elodie was so tired. After those words, she simply closed her eyes and rested,

leaving Jarrod alone with a flood of emotions he couldn't begin to contain.

His ears rang; his vision burned with the image of her pale, narrow face, tinged

with the faintest flush. He bent his head and drew a shaky breath, feeling as if her

simple confession had nearly undone him. Years of silent obsession and

resentment all of it seemed to dissolve in an instant.

It was enough.

Just those few words from her, and it was enough.

For a moment, he felt as if the clouds parted and he could finally see the sky-he

could finally breathe. He sat there, watching over Elodie as she slept, unwilling to

leave her side. Her illness felt like a ticking time bomb in his chest, filling him with

a fresh surge of dread.

He didn't know how long he sat there.

Eventually, Jarrod got up and gently tucked the blanket around her before leaving

the room to take a call.

Andrea had already gone to handle other matters.

Jarrod made his way to the smoking lounge, bought a pack of cigarettes, and lit

one with numb, icy fingers. It was the only thing that eased the ache in his chest,

even a little.

"Meet with the hospital director," he

ordered, his voice low on the phone.

"Talk to everyone involved-doctors,

nurses, even the janitorial staff. I

want concrete evidence. Leave no

stone unturned."

Just hearing Elias describe what

Elodie had gone through was

enough to fill Jarrod with a fresh

wave of self-loathing. Her pain, her

despair-they echoed inside him a

thousandfold. He couldn't stand

even a fraction of it.

He knew who Elodie suspected. But this wasn't something he could simply act on

out of suspicion or anger. Not now. Elodie needed him to be steady. He couldn't

afford recklessness.

What others might fail to uncover, he was determined to find out. Whoever had

hurt her he would make sure they never had the chance to do it again.

After the call, Jarrod slumped onto a bench, sitting there for what felt like ages.

The cigarette burned down to his fingers before he even noticed the sting.

What finally pulled him out of his daze was the thought of Elodie-alone, needing

him.

He crushed the cigarette out and hurried back toward her room.

Halfway there, Andrea called. "Mr. Silverstein, I've reassured your wife's

grandmother and uncle. Told them not to worry, and convinced them to wait until

tomorrow to visit."

Jarrod let out a breath. "Thank you, Andrea. I appreciate it."

He knew he wasn't the only one

holding himself together by a thread.

The older relatives needed support,

too. Elodie was in no state for

surprise visitors-seeing her like this

would only upset them more and

she wouldn't want that.

He had to think of everything, for her.

Back on the ward, Jarrod spotted Lucinda at the door to Elodie's room. She must

have just arrived.

She turned at the sound of his footsteps, and what she saw made her heart lurch.

Lucinda was Jarrod's mother, but in all these years, she had never once seen her

strong, stoic son look so shaken.