Elodie sat in silence for a while, her thoughts drifting.

No wonder Jarrod had rushed off in such a hurry.

So, he’d left because he was worried Sylvie hadn’t eaten and might wear herself out.

She simply replied, “Alright.”

It turned out skipping meals wasn’t just a threat mothers wielded-it was something lovers worried over, too.

After texting Alexander back, Elodie collapsed weakly onto the couch, not even having the strength to make it to her bedroom.

No matter how often it happened, she could never get used to this pain.

This time, it was especially brutal.

She almost couldn’t help but want to call Jarrod for help.

But, in a way, it was a relief that Sylvie’s crisis had distracted him; he was too preoccupied to notice how she felt like she was dying.

Of course, Elodie didn’t fool herself into thinking that, even if Jarrod did notice something was wrong, he’d choose to stay by her side.

She was just grateful that her illness was still a secret.

Once her uncle’s health finally turned a corner, she’d be free to confess everything.

Silverstein & Co.

When Jarrod arrived, Sylvie had already been working almost nonstop for two days.

She looked exhausted.

He checked the time and said gently, “Go home and get some rest. There’s no rush.”

Sylvie shook her head. “You trusted me with this, Jarrod. I need to see it through —can’t let you or everyone else working overtime down.”

Keith glanced at Jarrod before speaking up, “Ms. Fielding, Mr. Silverstein’s just concerned about you. Here, I brought you some soup. You should eat a little.”

Sylvie’s mood lifted at that, and she smiled brightly. “Jarrod, I made you worry again.”

Jarrod just nodded and settled behind his desk, eyes scanning a detailed report on his screen.

Keith stepped forward and helped open the takeout container.

But as Sylvie reached for the spoon, her hands shook from low blood sugar, and a splash of soup, along with a wilted vegetable leaf, landed right on her blouse.

She tried to wipe it off, but only made the mess worse.

Jarrod noticed and said to Keith, “Get her a change of clothes.”

Keith nodded and quickly returned, holding a crisp white men’s dress shirt, tags still attached.

Sylvie frowned. “Isn’t this a man’s shirt? Where did you get it?”

She clearly wasn’t thrilled about wearing just anything that turned up.

Keith explained, “It’s one of Mr. Silverstein’s. I figured your blouse was all sticky and uncomfortable, so I grabbed this for you to wear while I go out and find something new.”

The moment she heard it belonged to Jarrod, Sylvie’s expression softened— surprised and even a little pleased.

After all, wearing a man’s dress shirt meant something more; between a man and a woman, it always hinted at intimacy.

“If it’s Jarrod’s, I don’t mind—I’ll wear it,” she said, reaching out.

But before she could take it, Jarrod looked up. “Where did you get that?”

He didn’t recall keeping any clothes here.

Keith hesitated before answering, “…From the spare cabinet in your office.”

That “spare” cabinet was hardly used for anything.

It was filled with gifts Elodie had carefully chosen and sent over the years-shirts, ties, cufflinks, all neatly packaged and untouched.

Keith had just grabbed something from there, figuring Mr. Silverstein never wore or even looked at them. If Ms. Fielding used one and tossed it afterward, it wouldn’t matter.

Jarrod’s expression didn’t change as he stood and took the shirt from Keith’s hands. “Don’t wear this. Go buy her something new.”

Sylvie’s smile faded a little.

“Jarrod?”

Why wouldn’t he let her wear his shirt?

He met her eyes. “You don’t have to make do. Someone will get you something that actually fits.”

Sylvie’s expression softened again.

Of course.

Jarrod was always thoughtful, always looking out for her.

While Keith hurried off to buy new clothes, Jarrod carried the shirt back to his office.

He paused in front of the cabinet, taking in the rows of carefully wrapped gifts- there were quite a few.

He’d never opened a single one.

As he put the shirt back, something in the corner caught his eye: a courier envelope, still sealed.

Jarrod’s eyes narrowed slightly. Suddenly, he remembered Elodie mentioning a “document” at the gala.

Was this what she meant?

What could be in it, that she cared so much? He hadn’t looked at it yet.

He realized he’d have to read it before he could give her any kind of answer.

Frowning, Jarrod reached in and took out the envelope-