How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 135

Jarrod flicked his gaze downward, idly turning a lighter over in his hand. He answered smoothly, practiced and unruffled, "Work's been busy."

"Busy? So now you don't even bother coming home?" his grandmother shot back, not missing a beat. "Don't give me that. Go pick Elodie up from work, you—"

"I've already called a car. I'll head out now." Elodie glanced at her phone as the ride-share confirmed her booking. She offered a polite, distant farewell and made to leave.

But the old woman's hearing was as sharp as ever, and she caught the sound of Elodie's voice through the call. "Oh, so you're together? Good! Bring Elodie back with you."

Jarrod's face didn't betray a thing. He looked over at Elodie. "Grandma wants you to come back to the house with me."

Elodie's brows drew together slightly as her gaze fell on his phone, catching sight of the ongoing call.

She wanted to refuse, but Sylvie was there too. If she declined, what was she supposed to do—tell Jarrod's grandmother that Sylvie was present, and Jarrod really wanted to drive Sylvie home instead?

But the old lady was insistent, urging Jarrod to bring Elodie back with him.

Just as Elodie hesitated, unsure how to respond, the call abruptly ended.

She had no choice but to look at Jarrod.

Given how much Jarrod doted on Sylvie, would he really just leave her behind?

At that moment, Sylvie's expression remained unchanged—calm, composed, not the slightest hint of annoyance.

She simply turned to Jarrod. "Joseph and I need to stop by the office. Your grandmother's health comes first. You should take Elodie back."

Her tone was gracious and poised, the perfect picture of a reasonable wife, effortlessly handing the opportunity over to Elodie—as if it cost her nothing at all. That composure came from the confidence of knowing she was Jarrod's clear favorite.

Elodie lowered her eyes with a hint of bitter amusement.

When had it ever come to this—when the wife needed another woman's permission just to claim her own place?

If anything, her calm was almost unnatural.

Anyone else, in her situation, would have lost their temper—argued, fought, anything would have been understandable. For Elodie to remain this composed… it was unsettling.

She simply didn't care anymore. Her ride had arrived; without another glance at any of them, she walked out and left.

Joseph watched her get into the car, then turned to look at Jarrod.

Jarrod's gaze drifted away from Elodie, indifferent to her decision. He stepped aside, holding the car door open for Sylvie with effortless courtesy.

In that instant, Joseph finally understood why Elodie had become this way.

When every negative emotion meets only indifference, eventually, you just stop feeling altogether.