For a long moment, Rosemary struggled to process what she was seeing. She stared at Elodie’s calm, steady expression-so serious, stripped of any trace of sorrow or joy.

It took her several tries before she managed to speak, her voice trembling. “So that’s it… That explains everything…”

The truth was, they’d always sensed how things stood between Elodie and Jarrod. How could they not? But still…

“Elodie, tell me honestly-did you divorce Jarrod because of… Ivan?” That was what Rosemary feared most.

After all these years, after everything Elodie had been through, why wait until Ivan was released from prison to end her marriage?

“No, it has nothing to do with him.” Elodie could see her grandmother was overthinking, so she patiently explained, “There wasn’t any particular reason. I just realized there’s no point forcing something that was never meant to be. There’s no need for us to keep hurting each other.”

Whether it was Jarrod or Ivan, she was finally at peace with it all.

That’s just human nature, and she couldn’t fight it anymore.

Better to let herself go-finally focus on her own life.

Rosemary’s eyes filled with tears as she squeezed Elodie’s hand. “You managed

to break free from what was holding you back. I’m proud of you, truly. As for Jarrod, well, he never gave any sign. The fact that he bothered to show up at all… that’s more courtesy than the Thorne family ever deserved.”

She hesitated, her gaze drifting to Elodie’s abdomen. “But… that scar of yours. Has Jarrod ever asked about it? Not even once?”

Elodie dropped her gaze, unconsciously brushing her hand over the old wound.

She remembered that night-throwing herself in front of Ivan, saving him from a fatal blow.

She shook her head. “There was never any real feeling between us. Jarrod was never curious about me. Even when he saw the scar, he never once asked where it came from.”

The more she thought about it, the more surreal it seemed.

They’d spent countless nights together-he’d once been obsessed with her body, more than anyone else. He must have noticed the scar on her stomach. But not once did he ever ask about it.

A total stranger would have been curious, at least.

But not Jarrod.

He never cared to know her.

Suddenly, Rosemary understood just how much Elodie had suffered all these years.

In the past, as her grandmother, she hadn’t interfered. Now…

“Maybe it’s for the best. If you can’t go on, you’re brave enough to walk away. You’re stronger than your mother ever was-she wasted her whole life inside a loveless marriage. I’ll support you, whatever you decide!”

A weight lifted from Elodie’s heart.

With her family’s support, she no longer had anything to fear.

She spent the night with her grandmother and Emile, then returned to work the next day.

After that evening, Jarrod never reached out again.

But she did hear from Alexander about what happened with Sylvie.

That night, Jarrod had left so abruptly because Selma fell ill and had to be rushed

to the hospital. He didn’t even stay for the birthday party, let alone the fireworks.

Jarrod had hurried off to be with Sylvie, to help her look after Selma. He couldn’t bear to let Sylvie face that fear and helplessness alone.

And what about Elodie?

Her situation was no less desperate than Sylvie’s.

In the end, Jarrod broke his promise to her-he chose to be with Sylvie.

But Elodie was already done hoping. Now that they were divorced, they were little more than strangers, and she could finally breathe.

Wednesday morning.

Elodie got a call from a local courier service.

A package, addressed to her.

When she signed for it and opened the box, she stared in disbelief, thinking she must be seeing things.

Inside the ornate case was a painting-the very one of her mother she’d been searching for.

Stunned, Elodie quickly realized Jarrod must have kept his promise. She dialed his number; he picked up almost immediately. “Did you get the painting?”

Her suspicions confirmed, Elodie felt a strange sense of unease. “You actually found it…”

“I said I would, didn’t I? Did you think I was joking?” His voice came through a haze of background noise-an airport announcement echoed on his end.

Elodie pressed her lips together. “Thank you.”

After all, he’d never cared about anything that mattered to her. Now, after their divorce, he was suddenly following through on every promise. She didn’t know what to make of it.

“Elodie, you’re being awfully formal with me.” Jarrod’s voice was cool, almost teasing-it was hard to tell if he was mocking her or not.

She looked down at the painting on her desk and let his comment slide. Instead, she asked, “You said you’d send me photos of Selma’s painting the details. I haven’t seen anything in my inbox. Did you forget?”

“No.”

Jarrod sounded completely indifferent.

Elodie didn’t understand his answer, but she kept her tone calm. “If you have time, could you send them to me?”

“Elodie, I’d do anything for you. But not this. I can’t promise you that.” His refusal was measured, final-leaving no room for argument.