How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 623

Luckily, Jarrod was quick. He threw a punch and smashed the bottle in Ivan’s hand before it could hit anyone.

Elodie saw blood welling at Jarrod's knuckles.

The two men crashed into each other, grappling violently.

The alcohol seemed to drain from Ivan’s system in an instant. Eyes bloodshot, he fixed Jarrod with a wild stare, his lips split in a twisted grin. “Jarrod, let me be honest with you. Elodie’s always had a place for me in her heart. You could have any woman you want—why break us apart? Do us both a favor, let her go. Let us be together. Can’t you do that?”

With those words, Jarrod—who had been all cold fury—froze for a split second.

That was all the opening Ivan needed.

A sudden, animalistic rage overtook Ivan. He tossed the broken bottleneck aside, grabbed Jarrod by the collar, and slammed him hard against the door.

Bang!

The heavy thud echoed through the room.

Elodie watched it all, a pressure building in her chest until her throat ached. “Enough, Ivan!” she shouted.

She was not someone who lost her temper easily. Even in the worst situations, she’d always tried to stay calm and collected.

But now, her clenched hands trembled with the effort. She was grateful for the kindness Ivan had once shown her, for the memories they’d shared—but now, all those good things felt like knives twisting in her gut. She’d always thought Ivan was like her mother, her grandmother, her uncle—someone she could rely on, someone she could call family.

She’d been almost obsessively loyal to her family and those she cared about.

But the comforting blur of childhood attachment had long since faded. And now, even the last fragile thread of familial affection, woven over more than ten years, had finally snapped.

“Ivan, you want the truth?” she said icily, staring at him. “I don’t feel a shred of what you think I do. I was grateful to you once, and yes, I depended on you, but that’s all it ever was—dependence, not love. I don’t love you. Do you understand? If you do, then leave. Now.”

Ivan stared at her, stunned.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was something else, but it was as if a part of him had just drained away.

He slumped over, gasping for air.