Chapter 420
[ 485 words ]
Chapter 420:
He stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Caroline,” he said softly. “It’s time to go home.”
She didn’t move. It was like speaking to a statue.
He tried again, his voice a little firmer. “Your mother wouldn’t want you to do this to yourself.”
That seemed to get through. A slight tremor ran through her body, but she still didn’t pull away from the casket.
He took a deep breath, signaling to his security detail. He couldn’t lift her himself without risking his healing bones, but he refused to let her remain in this trance.
𝖮r𝗀аn𝗶𝘻𝗲 𝘺𝘰u𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝗯r𝖺𝗋𝘆 о𝘯 𝗴a𝗹𝗇o𝘷е𝗅𝘀.𝗰o𝘮
“Help her,” he commanded his men, his voice tight.
As the security team stepped in to carefully support her and guide her toward the exit, the feeling of being moved finally broke her trance.
“No…” The word was a faint, breathless whisper, the first sound she had made in hours. “Put me down…”
She was too weak to struggle in any meaningful way. Jarrod stepped in, leaning his weight against the support of his team so he could be near her, his presence providing the anchor she needed.
“The service is tomorrow as planned,” he told the funeral director, his voice absolute. “No one needs to remain here tonight.”
He was taking command, ending the silent, damaging vigil.
As they moved toward the door, Caroline slumped against his side, the fight gone out of her. She had no strength left. Silent tears began to leak from her closed eyes, tracing paths down her temples. She was a dead weight of sorrow. But somewhere, deep in the shattered core of her being, she was clinging to the strength of his hold, the steady beat of his heart against her ear, even as his own body ached from the effort of staying upright.
Back at the estate, Jarrod sat beside her on a plush sofa, the low fire casting long, dancing shadows across the room. Agnes, the housekeeper, had left a tray with a steaming bowl of clear chicken broth.
Jarrod lifted a spoonful to her lips with his uninjured right hand, his left arm remaining immobilized and tucked carefully against his torso to avoid triggering the sharp, throbbing pain from his healing fractures.
“Caroline. You need to eat something.”
She turned her head away, a silent, stubborn refusal.
He didn’t try to coax her. His voice became firm, a quiet command. “For your mother. Drink it.”
The invocation of her mother’s name was the only thing that could have reached her. The fight went out of her. She turned back and obediently opened her mouth. She swallowed mechanically, the warm liquid tasteless, feeling like medicine, not food. He fed her the entire bowl, one slow, patient spoonful at a time, moving with an agonizing slowness that betrayed his own physical discomfort.
When the last of the broth was gone, something inside her broke. The warmth in her stomach, the simple act of being cared for, shattered the dam of her numbness.
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