How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 772

Seeing the situation unfold, Rosemary felt her knees go weak. She collapsed into the nearest chair, struggling to catch her breath.

Emile hurried over and gently patted her on the back. “It’s all right. The surgery is going as expected. With so many leading specialists in there, nothing’s going to go wrong.”

But Rosemary was far from reassured. Her heart was caught in her throat, neither dropping nor settling.

Esmeralda suddenly clutched Alexander’s sleeve. “Alex, there won’t be any problems, right?”

She looked so pale, he could see the worry etched into every line of her face as she stared at the glowing light above the operating room door. “No,” Alexander said, trying to sound steady. “Elodie’s always been strong. The doctors know exactly what they’re doing.”

Esmeralda’s heart hammered in her chest. She couldn’t calm down, so she glanced across the waiting room at Jarrod.

His jaw was clenched tight, knuckles bone-white as he gripped the arms of his wheelchair. He didn’t seem to notice—or perhaps didn’t care—that he’d strained his back so badly his hospital gown was stained red.

The sight made Esmeralda’s breath hitch. For years she’d thought Jarrod was cold and indifferent, especially toward Elodie. As far as she knew, Elodie had suffered endlessly for loving him, while he’d remained unmoved. But now, in this moment, she saw something else on his face: pure, unmistakable fear.

Jarrod squeezed his eyes shut, his throat painfully dry. He forced himself to stay calm. If there were any way to trade places and give Elodie his health, he would do it in a heartbeat.

The tension in the waiting room was so taut you could almost hear it hum.

No one knew how much time had passed before the light above the operating room finally flicked off.

Everyone surged to their feet, moving as one toward the doors.

One by one, the surgeons emerged, exhaustion etched on their faces.

Jarrod spotted Elias as he pulled off his mask. There were still traces of blood on his scrubs, making Jarrod’s heart pound unsteadily.

Jarrod didn’t dare touch her. God only knew how many possibilities had run through his mind these past few hours. He’d always believed himself immune to emotional turmoil, but in these endless minutes, he’d thought more than once: if Elodie didn’t make it, he’d go with her. It was the least he owed her after all the pain he’d caused. If only he’d been kinder—maybe she wouldn’t have had to suffer like this.

Thank God…

For a man who prided himself on being rational, Jarrod was shocked to find himself silently grateful for everything and anything that had spared her.

Elias caught his eye. “Mr. Silverstein, may I speak to you about her condition?”

Jarrod pulled himself together as quickly as he could, nodded, and waved for Rosemary and the others to follow Elodie to her room.

Once they were gone, Elias spoke quietly. “She had significant bleeding during surgery, which is why she’s still unconscious. Her condition is very fragile, so this was unavoidable. But on the whole, the operation went smoothly. We removed all the affected tissue, so the risk of recurrence is greatly reduced—she’s been given more time. However…”