How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 833

Whether it was feeding, changing diapers, holding the baby, or dealing with any number of unexpected situations that came with having an infant, Elodie realized she still had a mountain to learn.

The prospect left her feeling like she was preparing for battle. She scrolled through countless parenting guides with the utmost seriousness.

“They say newborns need to be fed several times a night. The water temperature, the amount of formula, the mixing method, even the way you hold the baby while feeding—all of it matters,” Elodie said, her tone methodical. She’d always been the rational, detail-oriented type, a natural in the sciences, and she approached this the same way: careful, patient, determined to get it right.

Jarrod sat beside her, watching as she flicked through pages on her laptop.

Leaning his head on one hand, a slight smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah, newborn formula digests fast. You’ll need to feed every two to three hours, so that’s eight to twelve times a day—even more at night. The water should be about 104°F, and you need around an ounce each time. Best to feed her sitting up, so she doesn’t choke.”

He patiently answered every question, one by one, with clarity and calm.

Elodie glanced back at him in surprise.

“You did your homework ahead of time?”

So thorough?

Jarrod’s dark eyes flickered to the article she was about to open. “Why bother asking the internet when you have me? I know more than the computer does.”

He’d planned from the start to care for their child himself.

He had no intention of leaving the baby to a nanny—he’d never be at ease with that.

So, he’d hired professionals to give him comprehensive training. Everything from holding positions to how to handle choking—he’d made sure he was ready.

He wanted his daughter to be the happiest little girl in the world, and there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do himself to make that happen.

Elodie could see the hint of pride behind Jarrod’s calm expression.

“You’re more of a pro than I am—and I’m supposed to be the mother. Makes me look a little unqualified, doesn’t it?”

Jarrod raised an eyebrow, his voice slow and just a little smug. “You’ll have to admit it—I really am better than you at this.”

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