The voices from the living room conversation continued to drift through the hallway, but Elodie could barely make out the words anymore.
She didn’t say a thing—just slipped away silently, unnoticed. Her face blank, she walked quietly to the bottom of the stairs.
A dizzying wave of disbelief crashed over her, so overwhelming it left her reeling. For a moment, all rational thought was swept away, replaced by a thousand tangled emotions.
Of course she couldn’t believe it.
When things began to unravel between her and Jarrod, she’d convinced herself that having a baby would fix everything. She’d wanted it desperately—a new life, a fresh start for them both.
But as week after week slipped by, what she longed for never came.
Deep down, she’d known. Her body had been through so much, making pregnancy difficult—maybe not impossible, but certainly not easy. She’d told herself that with time, with care, it could happen naturally.
But never—not in her darkest imaginings—had she considered the possibility that while she was waiting, Jarrod was quietly making sure it wouldn’t.
Elodie gripped the banister, pressing a hand to her chest as she tried to breathe through the onslaught of hurt and anger.
She fought to tamp down the feelings threatening to spill over, but it was nearly impossible. The bitterness was suffocating.
And so, even though she’d promised herself she wouldn’t dwell on the past after the divorce, that she wouldn’t demand explanations or drag things out, she found herself losing the battle against her own pain.
She turned and climbed the stairs, her steps quick and determined. Heading straight to the master bedroom, she pushed open the door.
Jarrod was inside, tablet in hand, talking on the phone. He turned at the sound, catching sight of her—eyes rimmed red but face cold and composed.
He didn’t move, just held the phone to his ear, eyes fixed on her.
The moment she saw his face, every emotion she’d tried to bury came rushing back. Elodie strode across the room, her slender arm flying up before she even realized it, aiming a slap at his flawless face.
Jarrod didn’t flinch. He simply gazed at her, dark eyes cool and unblinking, watching her hand as it hovered in midair.
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