How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 719

Carrying Elodie in his arms, Jarrod slipped out through the side door.

Cold sweat beaded on his brow. His usually sharp, upturned eyes were rimmed red, and once inside the car, he clutched her tightly, as though terrified she might slip away at any moment. He pressed his chin to the crown of her head, his hand trembling as he stroked her back over and over, barely conscious of the words he kept whispering: “It’ll be okay… They’ll fix this… I’m sorry, this is my fault…”

Andrea barely dared to breathe. The moment Jarrod choked out the name of a hospital, she floored the accelerator.

Elodie had no idea why the pain was so intense this time.

It hurt so much she wanted to curl up and disappear.

Jarrod’s voice, raw and frantic, was the only thing she could hear.

She tried to speak, but no words came out.

All she could do was clamp her teeth on her lower lip, eyes squeezed shut.

“Hurry!” Jarrod’s voice was hoarse, almost unrecognizable. Seeing Elodie biting her lip until it bled, he could only urge Andrea forward, then quickly pressed his own hand to Elodie’s mouth, freeing her torn lip and guiding her to bite him instead.

Dazed, Elodie forced her eyes open. Jarrod’s head was bowed low, his normally cold and impassive gaze now shattered by an anguish that was almost suffocating. Even his lashes were wet, and a tear slipped down, landing at the corner of her eye.

It burned. It made her heart tremble.

A bitter, stinging ache.

Maybe she was imagining things.

After all, a man like Jarrod would never cry… would he?

Perhaps it was the pain, or perhaps it was all the feelings she’d kept buried suddenly rising to the surface. Out of spite, she bit down hard on his hand, nearly drawing blood.

But he didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away.

Instead, he held her even closer, tight enough that she could feel the wild, frantic pounding of his heart against her.

The fight drained out of Elodie all at once. She released his hand, closed her eyes, and fell silent.

She didn’t open them again until they reached the hospital.

Elias led Jarrod as they settled Elodie onto a hospital bed.

She’d slipped into unconsciousness, her brow still drawn in pain.

Jarrod refused to leave her side, and Elias understood. He bent to examine Elodie, speaking as he worked: “She’s been sick for a long time. As you can see, it’s advanced. She’s carried it all by herself.”

Jarrod looked at Elodie’s pale face.

Every breath felt like a knife to his chest. “She’s suffered so much… hasn’t she.”

Elias didn’t look up. “She has.”

After a pause, he finally met Jarrod’s eyes. “She nearly lost her uterus. And about her child—she lost the baby because her illness wouldn’t allow it. She was more devastated than anyone. Mr. Silverstein, are you still blaming her?”

Jarrod pressed his lips together, a sharp ache behind his eyes.

Elias hesitated, then spoke quietly, “She never wanted to lose that baby. Something happened to her that day—someone tried to hurt her. And you… on the day she was at her lowest, you blamed her for it.”