How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 187

Elodie hadn't made her decision lightly.

For years, she'd given up on herself far too soon, letting herself become a pawn for the family—for the Harcourts, for Ivan, and later for Jarrod. Never, not once, had she really lived for herself.

It wasn't as if she'd never had dreams or ambitions.

Now, with sudden clarity, she realized how precious her time was—worth more than gold. Whether or not she could get accepted, whether or not she'd have the chance to keep studying, she still wanted to try again.

Alexander paused, glancing over at her.

It took Charlie a moment to catch up, but then he slapped the table. "That's what I like to hear!"

"Why not? It's never too late to start over, no matter where life has taken you." His grin spread wide before he remembered to scowl, giving a gruff snort. "But don't think grad school is a walk in the park. Don't go making big promises you can't keep!"

"Exactly. You might want to pick a different advisor," Alexander teased, raising an eyebrow. "This old man hasn't taken a student in three years. Who knows if he's still got what it takes."

Charlie swatted at him. "Smart mouth! No one asked for your opinion."

Elodie watched the two, a gentle smile playing on her lips.

For the first time in a long while, she felt light—genuinely at ease.

Once the VistaLink Technologies project was running smoothly, she'd start preparing for her applications.

Even if her health didn't improve, as long as she still had the strength, she'd give it her all.

After all, wasn't it about living with no regrets?

_

Thursday morning.

After wrapping up a project meeting with Alexander and Galen, Elodie's phone buzzed with a call from Keith.

"Ms. Thorne, do you have a moment at lunch today? Mr. Silverstein has arranged for the transfer of property and other formalities. We'll need your signature."

Elodie glanced at the time—it was already past eleven. Even if she wanted to send her lawyer, there wouldn't be time. She decided to handle it herself. "Yes, I'm available. Where should I come?"

Keith's voice remained polite and even. "Please come to the CEO's office at The Silverstein Group, around noon."

"Alright," she agreed.

Divorce paperwork was tedious but necessary. At city hall, Jarrod had said they'd handle the property transfer after the papers went through. She'd assumed it would take a while, but here it was already.

Elodie skipped lunch and headed straight for The Silverstein Building by subway.

Someone must have called ahead, because when she arrived, she was ushered directly to the top floor.

Keith met her at the elevator and gestured, "Mr. Silverstein is still in a meeting. Would you mind waiting a few minutes, Ms. Thorne?"

Elodie stepped inside.

She sank into the black leather sofa in the lounge area.

No sooner had she sat down than her gaze landed on the open door across the room, where a pale cream skirt suit hung on a rack in the adjacent lounge.

In a space this stark and businesslike, that suit was jarringly out of place.

Clearly, its owner had privileges here—free to come and go, even using the private lounge.

Elodie looked away, her face impassive, as if it were none of her business.

"Coffee, Ms. Thorne?" a secretary asked, setting down a cup.

Elodie nodded her thanks.

She glanced at the coffee but left it untouched.

Nearly half an hour passed before footsteps finally sounded outside the door.

When it opened, Elodie turned to see who entered.

Jarrod strode in, phone pressed to his ear, his deep, even voice carrying as he spoke to someone on the other end. "Alright, I'll come by as soon as I'm done here."