Hearing those words from Jarrod''s lips—those three simple words—used to be all


    she ever dreamed of.


    But now, when they came so suddenly, Elodie, even as she could see the


    sincerity in his eyes, still found herself stunned. Jarrod didn''t give her time to think


    or react. He held her hand, his thumb brushing gently across her skin, and spoke


    each word with care, "For the best chance at recovery, your uterus... Let''s remove


    it, alright?"


    He paused, took a breath, and continued, "Let''s not get divorced, okay? I''ll make


    sure you get the very best treatment, I''ll find the top specialists in the world for


    you. I won''t let anything happen to you. Whether or not you can have children in


    the future... it doesn''t matter to me. I''ve never cared about whether you could


    bring me any ''value'' that way. All I want is for you to be healthy. This time, please


    —just listen to me, alright?"


    He tried to soften his voice, his gaze almost pleading, because he couldn''t bear


    the risk of any more setbacks or tragedies. The thought of Elodie suffering


    through a painful recurrence was unthinkable.


    Elodie was quiet for a long while. The truth was, she hadn''t made her decision


    yet. When it''s your own body, hesitationes naturally. Once, she might have


    just felt heartbroken but would have decided quickly: just take it out. But after


    carrying that child who never got to be born, she was left with a lingering sense of


    loss. That feeling clung to her, pulling at her nerves.


    Shey back on the bed, suddenly feeling powerless in this critical moment. "Let


    me think about it," she murmured.


    Jarrod watched her closely, easily sensing her sorrow. But Elodie didn''t want to


    dwell on the matter. She closed her eyes, trying to rest. Jarrod stayed by her side


    for a long moment, and when he saw her exhaustion overtake her once again, he


    gently squeezed her hand and whispered, almost too softly to hear, "So many


    illnesses are brought on by stress... I won''t deny the pain I''ve caused you. Just


    give me a bit more time. If I could, I''d trade my life to make it right."


    By the next day, Elodie was feeling better, so she went straight to see Rosemary.


    She was genuinely grateful to Jarrod for yesterday as well—he''d reassured her


    grandmother and the others, and spared them from seeing her in such a fragile


    state. She didn''t want to frighten her grandmother.


    Jarrod drove Elodie back to Rosemary''s old family estate. He knew the two of


    them needed to talk in private, so he didn''t intrude. He lingered by the gate for a


    moment before getting back into his car and heading straight to the Silverstein


    Mansion.


    The investigation was still ongoing, but as for Patricia and her associates... Jarrod


    already had a rough idea of what he needed to do.


    He also needed to give the family matriarch an update about Elodie—there was


    no avoiding a visit.


    But as he stepped into the courtyard, he immediately noticed a car he didn''t


    recognize parked out front.


    Jarrod crossed the drive with long,


    steady strides and entered the


    house. As he''d suspected, there in


    the parlor was Patricia, chatting


    amiably with Lucinda and the others.


    Hearing his arrival, Patricia turned, arching an eyebrow at him with a pleasant


    smile. "You''re back?"


    Sprague Silverstein was seated across from Patricia. He stood up to pour her a


    cup of tea, his gaze warm as he handed it over.


    Jarrod, after reconciling things with


    Elodie, kept his expression


    unreadable and didn''t break stride


    as he walked past, heading straight


    for the back garden.


    Lucinda, noticing his attitude, pressed her lips together and got up to follow.


    Patricia, left in his wake, didn''t appear bothered. After all, she''d been ignored by


    Jarrod plenty of times over the years.


    But Elinor, seated nearby, was


    already scheming. With a polite


    smile, she said to Patricia, "Jarrod''s


    always been like thatpletely


    different from Sprague. Sprague''s


    much more easygoing, and besides,


    you and Sprague are about the


    same age, aren''t you, Miss


    Aldridge?"


    Sprague''s eyes flickered with something unspoken.


    Patricia replied unhurriedly, "We''ve known each other for quite a while. When I


    held an art exhibition abroad, Mr. Silverstein came by a few times."


    Sprague didn''t seem fazed. "That''s right. I''ve always admired your work, Miss


    Aldridge. In fact, I''ve bought a few of your paintings before."