Elodie hadn’t expected him to show up so quickly.

She had no idea how he’d even found out which hospital room she was in.

Jarrod’s gaze settled on her. “What did the doctor say?”

She knew perfectly well he was only here because her grandmother had found out, and now he was forced to put on a show.

Her brow furrowed, but she didn’t bother answering. Instead, she dismissed him outright. “You didn’t have to come. Grandma won’t know the difference anyway.”

Jarrod ignored her words, striding over to the bed with his long, purposeful steps. He checked the IV bag, peering at the fluid. “How many more of these do you need?”

Elodie frowned. Clearly, he had no intention of leaving just because she said so.

He glanced down at her pale face, the sickly look impossible to hide. “Is VistaLink Technologies really so demanding? Does every problem have to land on your desk?”

He looked at her, his face impassive, voice as cold as ever. “Maybe you should take a look in the mirror, see what you look like right now.”

It was a harsh, almost mocking remark-dispassionate and cutting.

While he spoke, he unlatched the insulated lunch box he’d brought. Inside were several simple, bland dishes. He set them out one by one on the bedside table and placed a fork next to her hand. “Eat something. It’s all light, easy stuff.”

Elodie glanced at the food but made no move to touch it. She already felt weak, barely had the strength to speak, but she still managed, “This is my business. It has nothing to do with Mr. Silverstein.”

She was reminding him-about who they were now, what they’d become.

Only then did Jarrod finally look up at her.

He didn’t argue.

He didn’t say anything at all.

The silence between them grew thick and heavy.

But he seemed unaffected, showing no inclination to bicker. Instead, he stood and crossed to the water cooler, returning with a cup of warm water and setting it within her reach on the bedside table. He frowned slightly as he adjusted the IV drip, making sure it didn’t run too fast and swell her hand.

He said nothing during the entire process.

Everything he did was thoughtful-yet Elodie didn’t flatter herself that he cared about her, or that she meant anything special to him.

Jarrod had always been meticulous since the day they married. Kind acts like this were just part of his nature, countless and routine. His refinement made him seem attentive, but she knew better now.

Women are sentimental by nature, always searching for evidence in the details- a reason to believe they’re loved, a sign that they’re special. For years, she’d let herself be swept away by those little things.

Three years, she’d fallen for it.

But after everything she’d been through, she understood: none of it had to mean love.

“Don’t trouble yourself. You can go now.” Elodie’s voice was cold and distant. She didn’t want him lingering.

Jarrod glanced at her but didn’t press her to eat. He simply turned, walked over to the sofa, and sat down. “Pretend I’m not here.”

Elodie’s expression darkened.

She looked over-he’d already pulled out his laptop and started working, ignoring her completely.

She pressed her lips together, her voice frosty and blunt. “I’ll tell Grandma you visited. You don’t need to worry I’ll say anything else.”

“Alright. Got it.” Jarrod didn’t even look up, his sharp features composed and unreadable. He typed away, answering her without so much as pausing in his work.

After that, the silence between them only deepened, cold and indifferent.

Elodie couldn’t make sense of Jarrod’s logic.

She had no appetite for the dinner he’d brought. She felt drained, too tired to

waste another ounce of energy arguing with him.

She simply pretended he wasn’t there.

Turning away, she lay on her side, her back to him.

Whether he stayed or left was his own business. If he wanted to play watchdog at

her door, that was his choice.

She wasn’t going to care.

Later that night, Elodie developed a fever. Through the haze, she barely

registered the discomfort before drifting back to sleep.

The next morning, her mind was foggy.

She vaguely sensed a nurse coming in to check on her.

By the time Elodie opened her eyes, the nurse had already removed her IV and

left.

She sat up, glancing toward the sofa-and spotted Jarrod’s jacket and laptop still sitting there.

Her brow knit in frustration. Why hadn’t he left yet?

Just then, Jarrod’s steady, low voice sounded from the hallway. “What exactly is her situation? When does the ER doctor who treated her come on shift?”

A nurse’s voice responded, “And you are…?”

Jarrod was silent for a moment before answering coolly, “Her husband.”