How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 770

Jarrod’s chest rose and fell, his narrow eyes tinged red. “Alright. Tell me everything.”

Elias glanced at the specialists nearby—experts Jarrod had flown in from abroad, always on call for Elodie.

One of them spoke up. “Mr. Silverstein, your wife’s previous miscarriage surgery resulted in secondary trauma. Her situation is far more complicated than an ordinary case of uterine cancer. If you insist on preserving the uterus, we do have the skill to safely remove the tumor. But I must be honest—the risk of recurrence would be extremely high, and the chance of metastasis would increase as well.”

The answer was clear as day.

Jarrod’s throat felt parched as he looked at Elodie’s sleeping, fragile face. He knew the truth. But the only thing he didn’t know was Elodie’s own wishes. After all, it was her body.

But right now, it seemed the decision had fallen to him.

“Take it out.”

Lucinda, silent until now, finally spoke. She looked at Elodie—weak, unresponsive, so unlike the gentle young woman she used to know.

She understood all too well what the doctors meant. If they didn’t remove the uterus, and the cancer came back, Elodie would suffer all over again. Metastasis to multiple organs was possible then, and no amount of surgery could guarantee a cure. Other organs weren’t as easily removed as the uterus.

As for children…

She glanced at Jarrod. “If you’re sure about what you want, if you can handle the consequences and shoulder the responsibilities, I won’t interfere.”

If Jarrod had truly thought it through, her opinion wouldn’t matter anyway.

Lucinda’s stance made Jarrod pause, sensing something different in her. He turned to Elias. “When can you schedule the surgery?”

“First thing tomorrow morning,” Elias replied.

Jarrod reached out with trembling fingers, taking Elodie’s hand in his. His throat worked as he swallowed. “Alright. Let’s prepare.”

He couldn’t risk even the smallest chance. He couldn’t accept the thought of Elodie living with a ticking time bomb, her life constantly under threat.

—

The surgery was scheduled for eight o’clock the next morning.

Jarrod insisted that Elodie stay in his room that night. The VIP hospital suites had king-sized beds—plenty of space for both of them.

She lay beside him, her face pale and drawn. He wanted so badly to hold her, but his own injuries made it difficult to move. Gritting his teeth against the pain in his chest, he inched closer and wrapped his arms around her, as gently as he could.

He pressed his palm to her forehead, then softly stroked her shoulder, comforting her with quiet, repetitive motions.

Every time her brows furrowed in pain, Jarrod’s heart twisted. He kissed the crease between her brows, trying to soothe her.

That night, he didn’t sleep at all. Having her beside him only made him more anxious.

Tomorrow’s surgery weighed heavy on his mind.