How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Elodie couldn't help but cough as she choked a little.

She tried to stifle it, but the tickle in her throat wouldn't subside.

Patricia's words had been just too... much.

Watts reacted instantly, grabbing a napkin and handing it to her. "Want some water to clear your throat?" he asked, his striking blue eyes fixed on her just as Patricia had teased, "There's always someone looking out for her."

Watching this, Sylvie's face darkened for a split second. Not long ago, Watts had thrown biting sarcasm her way without the slightest courtesy; now, he was being so gentle and attentive with Elodie. Anyone with half a brain could see that Watts

was...

Absolutely taken with her.

Sylvie instinctively glanced at Jarrod, searching his expression.

He was swirling his drink, eyelids lowered, and in the instant Sylvie looked over, he turned his gaze away. With his lashes casting shadows, it was impossible to decipher what he was thinking.

Sylvie hesitated, then exhaled quietly.

So Jarrod didn't care after all.

Esmeralda watched the whole scene unfold, grinning broadly. "Of course! Our Elodie has a charm all her own. Only a fool would be blind enough not to see it. Miss Aldridge, you're absolutely right." She clinked her glass against Patricia's, seizing the chance to make her point.

Elodie, at the center of it all, only felt the atmosphere growing stranger by the minute.

She gave Watts a quick glance, then offered a soft, "Thank you."

Watts heard her, and though he knew Elodie was always meticulously polite, he still felt... well, she was keeping him at arm's length.noveldrama

Always so composed. Always so distant.

He let out an exaggerated sigh, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow. "If you keep being so formal with me, I might actually get my feelings hurt."

Most women would've blushed or melted at that line.

But Elodie was different.

She met his gaze with clear, unflinching eyes, her confusion painfully sincere. "Sorry."

Watts was caught off guard by her earnestness, a little thrown by the

innocence in her look. For a moment, he just stared, then realized what he was doing and turned away, coughing awkwardly before tossing back the last of his now-cold drink.

The air between them shimmered with something unspoken, a tension that drew

all eyes and quietly shifted the focus of the room.

Sylvie pressed her lips together, shooting Elodie a sidelong glance before suddenly noticing the other tables. Groups of men and women were laughing, playing drinking games, arms entwined as they shared drinks.

Her heart skipped. She couldn't help sneaking another look at Jarrod.

He sat there, cold and distant, his glass swirling in his hand, a faint frown on his brow as if lost in thought.

Sylvie leaned in a little closer. "Jarrod, how about a drink together?"

She was already a bit tipsy, and her intentions were growing more obvious by the minute.

She clearly meant to propose a couples' drink, arms linked.

Jarrod finally looked her way, but before he could answer, Patricia's voice cut in,

sly and sharp. "Do you even know your own place? Aren't you embarrassed?"

The words hung in the air, freezing Sylvie in place. Her limbs stiffened, frustration flickering across her lowered gaze.

She knew better than to pick a fight with Patricia.

It only made her more

resentful-Elodie was so useless! Even after all that had been said, she hadn't so much as flinched. She was

still sitting there, acting all chummy with Patricia, so of course Patricia's fire was now directed entirely at her.

Patricia didn't even give Sylvie a chance to respond. She picked up the wine

bottle and refilled Sylvie's glass to the brim.

“If Ms. Fielding loves to drink so much, I'll keep you company. Let's take it slow—

drink up." Patricia raised her glass, her eyes icy.

Her tone was so firm, Sylvie couldn't possibly refuse.

Miss Aldridge was offering a toast herself. Even if it was a challenge, Sylvie knew

she had no choice but to accept.