How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

It would be hard to find another opening like this in the future.

But...

Standing outside the hospital room, Watts' expression was still tinged with gloom. He despised how Elodie kept ruining his plans, over and over again. He was hardly a patient or kind man by nature, and being bested multiple times by the same woman was enough to breed resentment.

Yet, as he reached the hospital door, he paused abruptly, frowning at the odd turn of his own thoughts. Even so, he pushed the door open.noveldrama

The room was empty except for Elodie, giving him free rein to approach.

He walked over to the bed.

Watts stared down at Elodie's sleeping face with a gaze bordering on icy. Standing at the bedside, he couldn't help but think of all the ways she'd

sabotaged him recently-Patricia Aldridge's forced downfall, among others. When he traced it back, Elodie was always at the root.

He had every reason to hate her.

And so, seeing her lying there, fragile and breakable, something twisted inside him.

His eyes traveled from her face, down her nose, over her lips, lingering a moment before settling on her neck. In that instant, he raised his hand, fingers almost closing around her slender throat. It seemed that with just a little pressure, he could make her pay-just a little.

But the moment his hand brushed her skin, he jerked back, lips pressed in a tight line, his expression conflicted. His hand drifted up, fingertips barely grazing her cheek, lingering near her mouth.

Suddenly, Watts snatched his hand away, as if waking from a trance. For a split second, a strange emotion flickered through him.

He felt ridiculous.

Taking a step back, he watched Elodie with a complex look before turning sharply and leaving, face cold and set.

Jarrod stepped out of the elevator just in time to see Watts disappear into another one across the hall. As they passed each other, Jarrod's eyes darted toward the hospital room. He clutched his chest wincing at the pain from the sudden movement, and hurried toward the door.

Octavia hastened to catch up behind him.

When Jarrod entered, he saw Elodie sleeping peacefully, and only then did he allow himself to breathe again. Watts' type-cheerful on the surface, but dark and venomous underneath-wasn't one to take a ruined plan lying down.

"Are you crazy?!" Octavia burst out, stomping her foot as she caught up. "Did you

forget you're supposed to be recovering from serious injuries?"

Jarrod sat on the edge of the bed, not even glancing her way. "What are you doing here?"

The question caught Octavia off guard, and she bit her lip, glancing at Elodie. "I came to see you, obviously. Mom said you're badly hurt. And I wanted to check on Elodie too."

Truthfully, she'd never seen Elodie like this before. The word cancer was hard for her to accept; no matter how much she'd clashed with Elodie in the past, she'd never wished this on her.

"You can leave, then. Let your sister-in-law rest," Jarrod said, clearly uninterested in dealing with Octavia.

But she didn't seem bothered. Her brother had always been brusque—she was used to it.

"I just think Elodie's had it rough," Octavia said, then hesitated, catching herself before she said something worse. "And you... You always acted like you hated her, when you obviously care. You really fooled me."

Jarrod fixed her with a cool, distant stare.

Octavia shrank under his gaze but, gathering a bit of courage, straightened her back and pressed on. "Don't give me that look. I just wanted to tell you: Mom says you two can't have kids in the future. But you should thank me! When I get married, I'll talk my husband and his family into letting my first baby be adopted by you and Elodie-so you can raise the child as your own. How's that? Touched, aren't you?"