How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 722

Elodie drifted somewhere between sleep and waking.

She felt dampness on the back of her hand, and the pain in her abdomen had faded to a dull ache. She recognized these sensations—someone must have given her a painkiller.

Turning her head, she met Jarrod’s gaze. His eyes were rimmed red, betraying sleepless worry.

When he saw her awake, he opened his mouth to speak, but his voice caught, dry and hoarse. He swallowed hard before finally managing, “Are you feeling any better? Does it still hurt?”

Elodie shook her head, her eyes falling to where Jarrod’s hand clasped hers. The moisture on her skin was clearly from his tears.

“I’m all right,” she said, her voice carrying the familiar phrase she’d repeated so often it had become second nature.

The words made Jarrod tense, shoulders stiffening. He couldn’t let himself dwell on how Elodie had survived those endless nights of pain on her own. She’d always been the strong one—even her grandmother and uncle had no idea. Elodie had never been the kind to complain.

She tried to withdraw her hand, but this time, Jarrod didn’t let go. Instead, his grip tightened, as if he was afraid she might slip away.

It unsettled her. This wasn’t the Jarrod she used to know.

“All those nights you went through alone… was it hard?” Jarrod gently brushed the tears from her hand, his voice rough with emotion.

Elodie thought for a moment. “At first, it was. But after a while, you just… get used to it. You accept things the way they are. No matter who knows or doesn’t know, it won’t change the outcome.”

If anything, letting others in would only have made things messier—kept those who cared for her up at night, frantic with worry. She’d rather wait until the final treatment, spare them longer periods of heartache, and save herself the energy required to manage their emotions. She was already drained, running on empty.

She wasn’t someone who thought of every angle. But she was ruthlessly rational. She was an adult—her problems were her own to carry. There was no need to burden her friends.