When Elodie returned to the house, she found her grandmother chatting with Cara, who was simmering broth in the kitchen.

The gentle bubbling of the pot filled the air with a savory aroma.

Her grandmother spotted Elodie at the door and greeted her warmly. “You’re here by yourself? Where’s Jarrod? Parking the car?”

Elodie kept her composure. “He had something to take care of. I came ahead.”

Her grandmother’s face fell instantly. “What could possibly be so important? Work’s over-what’s keeping him now?”

Elodie just smiled, offering no explanation.

“Has work been that busy lately?” Her grandmother motioned for Cara to pour a glass of peach juice. “Cara was just saying you and Jarrod barely come around anymore. What’s going on?”

Elodie hesitated, at a loss for words.

It was clear Gran still didn’t know the truth; she assumed they were simply busy, and her concern was tinged with affection.

Elodie felt a sting of helplessness and frustration. She had no idea how Jarrod planned to handle things. If he wouldn’t talk, what was she supposed to say?

“It’s the end of the year. There’s a big project at work—I can’t get away,” she managed.

Her grandmother patted her knee gently. “You need to take care of yourself. Everything else can wait. I’ve already decided I’ll have Cara make you some nourishing soups and tonic. You always say you’re fine, but you look tired to me. A woman’s health is everything. Drink a little of the herbal tonic for your energy; it can only help.”

Elodie knew her grandmother’s concern was genuine, and she couldn’t bring herself to refuse the kindness.

But Gran soon grumbled again. “Jarrod, too-what is he doing, not even home by dinner? Elodie, call him and tell him to hurry up. It’s not right.”

Elodie considered, then soothed her, “It’s alright, Gran. Let’s just eat. If he’s driving, it’s not safe for him to answer the phone.”

She found a gentle excuse-better that than risk Sylvie picking up on the other end.

Her grandmother let it go.

Elodie was almost certain Jarrod wouldn’t show up tonight, but just as the meal was served, he walked in briskly.

Elodie glanced up at him, then quickly looked away, already thinking about when her grandmother might leave so she could slip out as well.

Seeing Jarrod arrive just in time for dinner, Gran’s expression finally softened a little.

Midway through the meal, her grandmother suddenly brightened with an idea. “This year, why don’t we take a family portrait for the holidays? What do you think?”

Elodie’s hand froze, halfway to her glass.

Beside her, Jarrod quietly slid the water closer to her hand before replying coolly,

“Didn’t we take one last year? There’s no need.”

Elodie glanced at the glass, her face unreadable.

Once upon a time, gestures like these would have set her heart racing. Now, clarity cut through the haze-how easily women deceive themselves, letting the smallest, most basic gestures pass for love.

As for the family photo, she wasn’t surprised by his refusal. She didn’t think it necessary either. Jarrod probably shot it down so quickly because he’d already decided they’d be getting a divorce.

Gran glanced at Jarrod’s composed, impassive face and then at Elodie’s obvious indifference. She could only sigh. “If you two are busy, we can do it another time.”

She paused, then frowned as her gaze fell to Elodie’s hand. “Sweetheart, where’s your wedding ring?”