How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 793

Fleming’s frown deepened. “Alright, you two handle it for now.”

He hung up and looked up, meeting Esmeralda’s stiff, uncertain expression.

His lips pressed into a thin line as he watched her for a few seconds. “Sorry, something urgent just came up. I’ve already reserved our table. You can call your friend to keep you company.”

Esmeralda hardly had a moment to process this.

Fleming had already snapped his seatbelt into place, pressed the gas, and sped off, kicking up a cloud of dust behind him.

She stared after his car for a long moment.

Finally, she blinked, shrugged her shoulders as if to reassure herself, and muttered, “Alright then.”

Left alone, Esmeralda glanced around, feeling a little lost.

Her stomach growled. She thought, Well, I’m here already—why make things harder for myself?

With a sigh, she walked inside, found their table, and ordered a few dishes.

The food looked appetizing enough, but every bite tasted bland, as if she were chewing wax.

Her posture, so straight before, suddenly slumped. With a piece of foie gras stuffed in her cheek, she sat there, looking somewhat forlorn.

She found herself missing Elodie and Alexander.

But today had been so humiliating.

A strange mix of embarrassment and an undefinable sense of grievance welled up within her.

If she thought about it, maybe she was just being petty. After all, they were siblings—family.

Esmeralda sniffled, then forced herself to chew and swallow.

It’s fine, she told herself. Sooner or later, she’d be family too.

Nothing to get worked up over.

—

After leaving, Jarrod took Elodie straight back to their apartment instead of anywhere else.

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