How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 121

Alexander was genuinely surprised by how swiftly Jarrod had gotten wind of the news.

He himself had only learned about it yesterday, yet Jarrod was already taking action.

Feigning ignorance, Alexander shook his head. "Nothing's set in stone yet. Mr. Silverstein, are you… looking to recommend someone?"

Jarrod's lips curled with a touch of aristocratic reserve. "As a matter of fact, I am."

Alexander didn't press further.

The answer was obvious.

He caught sight of Elodie standing a short distance away, and couldn't help but hesitate, as if there was something he wanted to say but didn't.

After all, everyone here had spent years maneuvering through the business world. How could he not see through Jarrod's real reason for showing up?

Clearly, Jarrod was here to seize the opportunity to ask about the nomination—nothing more.

Certainly not because Elodie was on his mind.

But Elodie felt no disappointment at all. She'd seen through this reality long ago.

Why would Jarrod suddenly change this year, after ignoring her for so many before? He'd only come because of Sylvie. If not for her, he wouldn't have bothered.

She walked over calmly. "Alex, thanks for helping out today."

He'd rearranged his schedule and cleared his evening for her; she was honestly grateful.

Alexander ruffled her hair. "No need for thanks. But I really do have to slip out in a bit—there's a major international conference I can't miss. Will you be alright here?"

Jarrod glanced at his watch, speaking in his usual unhurried tone. "Don't worry. I'll stay with her."

Elodie found his behavior odd.

Alexander gave Jarrod a long, knowing look. "Of course. With Mr. Silverstein here, I have nothing to worry about."

Once Alexander left,

Elodie finally turned to the man beside her. Today, he'd chosen a suit that was markedly somber and formal, perfectly suited to the memorial. His black tie matched the jacket, and he wore no accessories at all.

Even the simplest style seemed to radiate a magnetic tension on him.

It was obvious Jarrod had changed into something appropriate before arriving.

"You're not staying long, are you?" she guessed. He never had much patience for these events.

Jarrod lowered his gaze, then suddenly gave her a faint, teasing smile. "Trying to get rid of me already?"

She knew a little about the history between Elodie and Ivan, and seeing them so calm around each other now, she felt somewhat relieved.

Thank God Jarrod didn't know the whole story—otherwise, there'd be even more chaos at home.

Dinner passed with everyone lost in their own thoughts.

Ivan, besieged by Queenie's calls, finally gave in to her demands.

As he left, he nodded at Jarrod. "Mr. Silverstein, let's get together soon? Queenie's arranged a ski trip with Sylvie—maybe we'll all go?"

He made sure to avoid Rosemary, but didn't hesitate to mention his mistress right in front of Elodie, as if it were nothing.

Jarrod looked up, his expression unreadable. "We'll see."

Neither agreeing nor refusing.

Ivan let out a knowing laugh. "Alright, Mr. Silverstein. You know how to reach me."

He glanced at Jarrod, then let his gaze linger on Elodie.

The two of them—so close on the surface, yet worlds apart. Anyone could see it.