How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 280

A sudden voice cut through the lively chatter on Sylvie’s side of the room.

Nearly everyone nearby turned to see what was happening.

Even Elodie was taken aback. She’d chosen a relatively quiet corner, yet someone had managed to bypass Alexander, who was standing outside the circle, to approach her.

She looked up to find a young man standing in front of her.

He was tall, handsome, with an earnest energy that hovered somewhere between adolescence and adulthood. His long lashes cast soft shadows as he looked at her, his gaze forthright and intent.

Elodie paused, caught off guard.

Before she could react, Esmeralda blurted out, “She says yes! No problem!”

The young man’s eyes lit up with hope as he waited for Elodie’s answer, never taking his gaze from her.

The little scene didn’t escape the notice of those watching from the sidelines.

Sylvie frowned slightly. She didn’t recognize this man—he was a stranger to her. But the admiration in his expression as he looked at Elodie was almost impossible to miss.

Sylvie found the whole thing rather astonishing.

Jarrod, meanwhile, glanced over with his usual calm, his expression unreadable. But this time, his gaze lingered on Elodie, thoughtful, not looking away as quickly as usual.

Only Naylor’s expression shifted at the sight.

On the stage, Ivan was watching too, a knowing, half-amused smile playing on his lips.

He’d always known that Elodie was never short of admirers. From childhood, she’d attracted attention, but beneath her gentle exterior, she kept her walls high and her heart well-guarded, never encouraging anyone.

Now, the atmosphere seemed to grow more charged.

Elodie met the young man’s eyes. She didn’t make a scene or play coy; instead, she nodded lightly. “Of course.”

In a setting like this, with the mood so buoyant, there was no need to be a killjoy just because someone had asked her to dance.

She placed her hand in his.

Watts Aldridge, who had been holding his breath, finally relaxed, relief flickering across his face.

He offered his arm with effortless grace and led Elodie toward the center of the floor.

Naylor studied the pair. From an outsider’s perspective, they really did seem inseparable—one unable to dance, yet wanting the other to enjoy herself; the other, popular and sought after, choosing to stay by her boyfriend’s side.

And as for Elodie…

When Naylor glanced her way, his brow furrowed unconsciously.

Elodie could be perfectly pleasant to complete strangers, yet she and he could never seem to get along.

Just incompatible, he thought. Like magnets with the same charge.

“Who is he, anyway?” Sylvie asked, her curiosity piqued. “He doesn’t look familiar.”

Naylor, halfway through raising his glass, paused and glanced over at Watts. He didn’t reply. The young man’s background, after all, was still something of a secret.

At that moment, Ivan strolled over, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. “Aren’t the two of you going to join in?” he asked, looking at Jarrod. “Mr. Silverstein, are you really not tempted by all the excitement?”

Jarrod’s lips curled in a faint smile. “Not tonight. I’m not quite up to it.”

It was then that Ivan noticed Jarrod’s right hand, held a little stiffly. “Is everything all right with your hand, Mr. Silverstein?”