Elodie had gone without makeup today. After being rushed to the hospital the night before, there was no hiding the exhaustion etched across her face.
"I''m fine now, really," she said politely.
Elias poured water for everyone before asking, "Did you have any tests done?"
Esmeralda answered for her. "She went to the ER yesterday. They said it was acute abdominal pain."
Elias''s brow furrowed, thoughtful. Years of medical experience had made him sensitive to details others missed, and Elodie''s gauntness struck him as more troubling than a single episode might exin.
He didn''t press her. Instead, he called Dr. Latham over so they could discuss Emile''s treatment n with Elodie. She trusted them-Elias was a renowned oncologist, the sort even other specialists consulted.
Once they''d settled everything, Elodie excused herself, not wanting to take up more of their time.
Elias walked her and Esmeralda to the door. His expression was asposed as ever, revealing nothing, but his words were careful and sincere. "Ms. Thorne, you really don''t look well. I''d rmend aprehensive checkup, just to be safe.”
He still remembered thest time Elodie had helped him—not out of selflessness, perhaps, but their interests had aligned, and that was enough. He feltpelled to remind her, to make sure she didn''t ignore her own health.
Elodie was surprised but managed a smile. "Thank you. I will."
Elias watched as Elodie and Esmeralda left, lost in thought.
Latham noticed. "What''s on your mind? Are you and Ms. Thorne close?"
Elias snapped back to the present, running a long finger across his brow, as if to wipe away the concern. "I just hope I''m overthinking things," he murmured.
Elodie took Alexander''s advice seriously and stayed home to rest for a few days. She''d never had an episode bad enough to end up in the ER before, and she was determined not to let it get any worse. A bit of downtime could only help.
But that didn''t mean she was idle. Even at home, she carved out three hours each day for concept design and requirements analysis on the department of defense project. The work was coborative-she couldn''t let her personal issues stall the whole team.
She joined important meetings online with Alexander and the others, making sure every detail was covered, every contingency nned.
One afternoon, she got a call from her grandmother, who wanted to check on her and asked if Jarrod was taking good care of her. Elodie understood immediately- Jarrod must have told her grandmother he''d been visiting every day. In truth, they hadn''t seen each other since the hospital, and he didn''t even have her number. Still, she yed along: "Yes, he''s been helping out."
Her grandmother sounded relieved and offered a few more words of advice before hanging up. Elodie had grown used to these little check-ins; they cost her nothing, and if pretending meant less worry for her grandmother, so be it.
If her illness could be cured, she''d endure the year-long agreement. If not... well, at least things would be settled.
Later, a message popped up from Joseph.
[Heard you''ve been sick. Feeling any better now?]
Joseph was part of Jarrod and Sylvie''s circle, so it wasn''t surprising he''d heard the news. What was odd was that he reached out at all; they''d hardly ever spoken before. What did he want?
Elodie was suspicious but didn''t ask. She simply replied, Thanks, I''m alright, and left it at that.
That afternoon, Charlie called. Word of her sudden trip to the ER had spread— after all, there''d been plenty of people at the dinner.
"What happened, Elodie? I asked Alexander, but he wouldn''t say much." Charlie''s tone was more serious than usual.
Elodie tried to brush it off. "It''s nothing, just the usual scrapes and bruises. Perks of being young."
Charlie snorted. "Funny, because I heard it was Jarrod who carried you out. Even Alexander didn''t tell me, but somehow the gossip''s already reached me. Care to exin?"
It was too ridiculous, really.
Elodie hesitated before answering honestly, "Actually, Jarrod and I have already finalized our divorce."
Charlie was silent for a moment, caught between surprise and a hint of regret.