“Patsy, if you still want your grandma alive, then kneel before Stevvi a hundred times to apologize.”

Cornell stared at her with detachment. There was no longer a trace of love in his eyes for his wife—only pure contempt.

When Patsy rushed into the hospital, she was already in a mess. Hearing her husband’s sentence made her face turn even more deathly pale.

It was clearly Stevvi who hit Connee with her car. Yet now, as the old woman lay on the hospital bed covered in blood, Cornell had stopped her treatment and was forcing Patsy to apologize to the culprit.

He was like this after Stevvi, in her reckless speeding, had not only struck Connee but also chipped a few rhinestones off her manicure—something that made her cry a few pitiful tears.

Watching her husband hold that woman protectively in his arms, Patsy almost cried in rage.

Her lips trembled uncontrollably as a thousand questions burned in her chest, yet she forced herself to swallow them all down.

Instead, she pleaded in a trembling voice, “Cornell… I’ll kneel, I’ll beg for fogeys—anything you want. Just… Please, save Grandma first.”

Holding the shaken Stevvi close, Cornell glanced impatiently at his watch.

“You’re in no position to bargain. I’ll give you one more minute. If you don’t start, you can meet your beloved grandma in the morgue.”

The word morgue exploded in Patsy’s head like a bomb. In an instant, her knees buckled.

With a loud thud, the bustling hallway fell silent.

On her reddened knees, Patsy crawled toward Cornell, clutching at his trouser leg as she choked back sobs and begged him.

“Cornell, I beg you. I’ll kneel a thousand times if I must. Grandma’s old… She can’t hold on much longer. Please, save her first…”

Fat tears splashed against the leather of his shoes. For a fleeting moment, something in his chest seemed to burn.

But a second later, his expression hardened and turned cold once again. “Still not apologizing now? Looks like you really don’t want Grandma to live.”

With those words, he snapped his fingers. At once, someone moved forward, preparing to cover Connee with a white sheet and wheel her toward the morgue.

“No!” Patsy screamed hoarsely. “I’ll do it! I’ll apologize—”

A cruel smile curved Cornell’s lips. “Good. When you’re done saying sorry, her surgery starts.”

The next second, she lowered her head for the first apology. Despite teetering on the edge of collapse, she forced herself to voice the words he demanded—each one different from the last.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve watched Grandma.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have argued back.”

“I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”

The crisp knocks of her knees against the floor echoed through the busy hall while passersby skirted her like she was something filthy.

Patsy didn’t care at all. In her heart, she carried a thousand apologies because maybe, in the end, it really was her fault.

She never should have believed Cornell married her because he still loved her.

She never should have foolishly hoped they could go back to the way things were, and for that fantasy, brought Connee into this mess.

Two minutes later, she had uttered all one hundred apologies. At this point, her voice was already hoarse.

With her knees covered in blood, she supported herself with trembling arms as she tried to rise—only to collapse back to the floor in exhaustion.

Dizzy and weak, she lifted her head to look at him and rasped, “Can you… save Grandma now?”

But Cornell gave a cold laugh and flicked a glance at the doctor. The next second, he gripped Patsy’s chin hard.

“Not yet. Stevvi lost ten rhinestones from her nails. You wait another ten minutes.”

Patsy’s eyes widened in disbelief at the delay. At that moment, panic filled her heart.

“No! Cornell, you promised! You said the surgery would start! If you delay ten more minutes, Grandma will die!”

Her desperate cry snapped the last thread of his restraint. He lunged at her again, his hand clamping around her throat.

“Oh, so you do know ten minutes can kill,” he spat. “Then why didn’t you show up earlier? Compared to you, I’m merciful. At least I’m not the one standing by and watching her die.”

His grip tightened, her face turning a ghastly shade of purple. She didn’t even have the strength to fight back.

When her breath was nearly gone, Cornell finally released her.

Pulling out a handkerchief, he wiped his hands with meticulous care, as though ridding himself of filth.

The gesture pierced her heart like a blade. Her voice trembled as she forced out, “Why…”

Before she could finish the question, he cut her off. “That’s what I want to ask you.”

Just one sentence, and Patsy’s heart turned to ice. She understood exactly what he meant.

He still didn’t believe her. He still hated her.

He hated her for allegedly running to a French tycoon the very day Cornell was sent to prison. He hated her for never visiting him once in those two years.

He blamed her for watching his mother jump from a building without saying a single word to stop her.

But she had explained it all again and again. She only wanted to ask him, “Why wouldn’t you believe me?”

As he walked away without glancing back, Patsy forced herself to her feet, clinging to her last breath of strength.

She had to move her grandmother to another hospital. If they wouldn’t save her here, someone else somewhere had to.

But just as she touched Connee’s face, someone yanked her back roughly.

“The patient has no vital signs. Ma’am, please step away. We need to attempt resuscitation.”

In that instant, chaos erupted outside the operating room. With her grandmother dying, a sharp pain exploded in Patsy’s mind. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed.

Her throat was so dry she could barely speak. She could only beg them again and again, her cries echoing through the hall.

“Please… Please save my grandma. I’m begging you…”

Soon, the doors to the operating room slammed shut. Patsy slumped weakly on the floor, a bitter taste rising in her throat. It was blood. She swallowed it down.

In a daze, she tried to find a chair to sit on. But the moment she stood, her vision blackened, and she collapsed headfirst.

When she opened her eyes again, all she saw was white.

For a fleeting second, she thought she’d reached heaven. A faint smile touched her lips… until a nurse’s voice shattered that fantasy.

“You’re finally awake. I’m so sorry, your grandmother didn’t make it. Please go to the mortuary to claim the body for cremation.”

She didn’t remember how she watched Connee disappear into the furnace.

Even when she carried the urn home, she felt like an empty shell, unable to shed a single tear.

She only knew something was wrong—Connee’s body used to be so warm. For the first time, it was cold. It was so cold it crushed the air from Patsy’s lungs.

She sat there for what felt like an eternity. When the sound of the door opening jolted her back to reality, she reached into her bag, pulled out the divorce papers she’d printed on her way home, and stared at them for a long time before rising.

For two years, no matter how many times Cornell hurt her, she never thought of leaving. She clung to the fantasy that they could still go back to how they used to be.

But now, she knew. That was all a delusion. They could never go back.

The Cornell who had loved her so desperately at twenty was gone. The man before her, at thirty, wanted nothing more than to destroy her.

Slowly, she descended the stairs with the stack of papers in hand. She held them out to him with a calm face.

“Cornell, President Spyres said you forgot to sign a few contracts last week. He sent them over this afternoon and asked me to remind you.”

Cornell skimmed the titles and saw they were indeed deals he’d negotiated earlier. Without a word, he signed them all.

And when his signature landed on that hidden divorce agreement, Patsy finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Once, they had endless things to say to each other. Now, they faced each other in silence.

Just like that, Patsy gathered the documents and turned upstairs.

One arm cradled Connee’s urn. The other opened her phone, pulling up train tickets.

“Grandma,” she whispered, “let’s go home.”

She no longer dreamed of reconciling with Cornell. All she wanted was to stay with her grandmother… forever.

There were only a few rides heading back to San Antonio, and the soonest one she could book was two days away.

But Patsy didn’t mind waiting. As long as she could go back home, that was enough.

As dusk fell, the doctor reminded her to rest. But she couldn’t close her eyes for even a second.

She sat by the bay window for a long time, and only when her throat felt unbearably dry did she finally step out to get some water.

The moment she reached the stairway, voices from downstairs drifted up to her.

“So you really just married her for revenge, Cornell? I thought you were just making things up to look good.”

“Yeah, man. Back when you got married, your stupid vows even had all of us tearing up. Who would’ve guessed you actually hated her that much?”

“What’s so unbelievable about that? That bitch—when Cornell hit rock bottom, she couldn't wait clinging to some big shot instead. She didn’t even bother hiring a lawyer, and when she saw Aunt Elspeth jump off the building, that bitch didn’t lift a damn finger to save the poor woman. Patsy’s practically a murderer!”

Patsy’s fingers tightened on the railing until her knuckles turned white.

A bitter smile curved her lips as she thought, ‘If I were a murderer, then every single one of them was an accomplice!’

Where were they when Cornell’s world fell apart?

When the McDermotts were destroyed overnight, bankrupt and stripped bare, and both Cornell and his father ended up in prison, where were his so-called friends?

What could she—a powerless outsider—do? She couldn’t even find a lawyer willing to take the case just because she was connected to the McDermotts.

When she learned Cornell had taken the blame for his father and would spend life behind bars, her hair turned white in a single night. She could only cry and cry until her vision blurred.

She had no other choice. In the dead of winter, she knelt outside his friends’ doors, begging for help. But not a single one of them came out to see her!

In the end, it was a friend who pulled strings and introduced her to a powerful man from France.

That man promised her this: stay by his side, and in two years, Cornell would walk free. Not only that—he’d make sure the McDermotts still had roots to stand on.

She didn’t hesitate. For Cornell’s sake, she would give him anything.

And so began those two years of hell—thrown into a blood-soaked arena, tortured until her body was nothing but scars.

The day Cornell’s mother jumped, someone sent word that she wanted to see Patsy.

She broke her left leg escaping, dragging herself across the city, only to find out it was a lie—his mother hadn’t wanted to see her at all. Elspeth had wanted to die.

Patsy clawed her way upstairs with a numb, lifeless leg. But she was still one step too late.

She was able to touch her mother-in-law’s hand. But Patsy couldn’t save her.

And those so-called brothers of his, where were they?

When she arrived, they were downstairs recording the scene, watching it like it was a show.

She could still hear their voices as if it were yesterday.

“Jump already! What’s with the act? Boring as hell!”

“Damn, Cornell’s mom actually looks pretty hot for her age. If she weren’t insane, I’d take her for a ride myself.”

When the police asked if anyone would go up to talk Elspeth down, every last one of them shook their heads.

Patsy was the only one who tried to go upstairs.

And now, these same men sat there together, shamelessly condemning her.

Patsy almost laughed out loud. But she didn’t bother to explain. No one would believe her anyway.

Her grip tightened around the water glass as she prepared to step forward. That was when his voice cut through the noise.

“Can you all shut the hell up?”

The sound of his anger made her heart jolt. After feeling numb, some part of her still reacted.

He was the same as the man she knew—never allowing anyone to judge what was his. Not even if he hated her.

But the next words rooted her to the spot.

“Stop making me lose my appetite. Do you want me to puke my dinner because of this crap? And those vows? Please. They were ripped off the internet. If you idiots cried at that, maybe you need a brain scan. I’ll give you a discount on our company’s new machine.”

He laughed. “You like bringing her up so much. Should I gift-wrap her for you? You can have her for a couple of days. I’ll even throw in a venue and cameras.”

The room erupted in hoots and jeers, everyone shouting they didn’t want her, even as their eyes gleamed like wolves.

Cornell scanned their faces and made a call to his assistant, Roald Riggs, telling him to make arrangements.

The living room erupted in fawning praises while Patsy’s eyes reddened.

Her flickering gaze brimmed with self-mockery—mocking her own stupid feelings, her one-sided love.

Two years later, and she was still foolish enough to believe he might defend her.

But her heart… God, it hurt so bad, like it had been ripped open.

Because those so-called crappy vows were the faith that carried her through the past two years.

When Cornell walked out of prison, she hadn’t expected to return to his side. The man who’d owned her wouldn’t let her go that easily.

But fate twisted again—the tycoon fell ill and slipped into a coma. And just like that, Cornell took her back.

She would never forget their wedding day. The moment the doors opened, he ran toward her.

They collided in their wedding attire, laughing like they had promised when they were young.

There was no priest because he insisted the vows would mean more if he said them himself.

But when he spoke, he cried so hard he could barely stand. His hands shook as he held the rings.

He knelt before her, devotion shining in his tear-filled eyes.

“Patsy, ten years isn’t enough. Even if I live to a hundred and eight, I’ll still love you without holding back. Even if you betray me, even if you stop loving me, even if you leave me… I’ll still love you. Loving you is carved into my bones. Maybe you don’t understand now, but when we lie side by side in our coffin, crossing into the next life, you’ll know. Will you marry me?”

She never imagined those vows would shatter the very night they wed.

She waited for him in the bridal suite, only for him to return covered in someone else’s kisses—and tell her to move into the guest room.

Later, she learned the truth. He hadn’t married her out of love but out of hatred, one that sank into his bones.

And still, she clung to hope. No matter how many times he hurt her, she explained and explained, praying that one day, things would return to what they once were.

She wasn’t stupid. It was just that Cornell’s vows had been too beautiful.

She had loved him for ten years. She knew the love in his eyes hadn’t been fake. She knew those words had come from the heart.

But in the end, all that certainty crumbled the day her grandmother died.

Patsy was done waiting. She was done explaining. She surrendered.

Whether those vows had been copied online or spoken with sincerity, she didn’t want them anymore.

If anyone was to blame, it was Cornell and his flawless act. He had fooled her for so long.

With a trembling hand, Patsy wiped the tears streaming down her face. Her chest felt so tight she could barely breathe, and she exhaled hard to ease the ache.

At least now, she was awake. At least now, he could never fool her again.

She didn’t go downstairs. Instead, she shut the door, blocking out the chaos beyond it.

Burying herself in the comforter, she lay still for a long while before finally rising to fold her grandmother’s clothes.

That was when the door swung open.

Cornell stood there, his face a thundercloud, his gaze fixed on the garments in her hands.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Patsy froze for a moment but didn’t turn around. Her voice was hoarse when she replied.

“I’m taking Grandma back to our hometown.”

Cornell’s heart, which had been tightly wound, loosened slightly. His face returned to its usual expressionless calm.

“When are you leaving? Send me your return flight details that day. I’ll pick you up.”

Patsy’s lips curved faintly, that same detached smile never wavering.

“No need. I’m not—”

Before she could finish, a sharp and confident voice rang out from the hallway.

“Hon! Come look at my new nail tips! Aren’t they gorgeous?”

It was Stevvi.

Cornell turned on his heel without hesitation, leaving Patsy’s unfinished words—I’m not coming back—lodged in her throat.

She hadn’t planned to make any dramatic declarations. Her only fear was that Cornell hadn’t punished her enough yet and would never let her leave.

After a moment of thought, she decided not to say it.

Slowly, she walked forward and closed the guest room door, shutting out the so-called “husband and wife” outside.

Patsy remembered the first time she heard Stevvi call Cornell honey. Patsy had cried and confronted Cornell about it, only to be met with his indifferent response.

“So what? What do you want from me? Should I beat her for you? Kick her out? Or are you hoping for a threesome?”

“Patsy,” he had said coldly, “the moment you abandoned me, you should’ve known that one day I’d make you pay back double. Don’t forget—this is what you deserve.”

From then on, she understood—this was his revenge.

The three of them… It was not quite a marriage and not quite an affair.

She had heard that word, honey, for two years now, yet she had never once spoken it aloud. Cornell never allowed her to.

Funny thing was, before the wedding, he used to coax her endlessly just to get her to call him that.

He loved that endearment to death, forcing her to say it almost every time before he would give her what she wanted.

But after they got married, he never let her say it again. Maybe the very thought of it disgusted him.

After all, he never saw her as a wife. He could even toss her into another man’s bed like a disposable object.

When she finished packing, Patsy stood up, her knees throbbing with a dull ache.

She glanced out the window. Sure enough, it had started to rain.

Her leg had been injured once, nearly torn apart by a wolf in an underground fighting pit.

Back then, someone had given her an ultimatum: survive ten minutes with the beast, and Cornell would eat and sleep well in prison. Fail, and he’d “receive special treatment.”

She nearly lost her life that day. It wasn’t until a friend sent word that he was safe that she could finally breathe again.

Now, whenever the weather turned bad, her knee burned with a sharp, bone-deep pain.

She stood still for a while before pulling open the bedside drawer in search of painkillers.

Before she could find them, the door burst open.

“Patsy, get out of here.”

She didn’t move. She had no desire to be part of whatever twisted game they were playing.

In the past, she had gone along with him—out of love and out of guilt for failing to save his mother.

But now, her love had worn down to dust. There was nothing left in her heart for her to expect.

That was why when Cornell grabbed her wrist, she snapped, thrashing wildly in his grip.

But every time she broke free, he caught her again—until he dragged her into the living room.

“Stevvi wants to eat hand-peeled walnuts,” he said coolly. “Her nails make it hard to crack them. You do it.”

Patsy stared at the table piled high with walnuts. Her chest tightened as memories flashed across her mind—Cornell scaling a wild mountain just to pick walnuts for her.

It was the day before the SAT. Teachers had told everyone to relax.

But he had skipped class and dragged her into the mountains, climbing trees like a fool and knocking down a rain of walnuts for her.

Fresh walnuts were nearly impossible to crack, but he peeled them open one by one, handing each to her.

“Walnuts are good for the brain,” he’d said with a grin. “Hope you ace the exam tomorrow.”

That was the first time she realized even under a walnut tree, love could blossom.

They had promised—after the exams, they would be together.

She remembered how his hands bled from cracking so many shells. When they returned to class, gathering scattered walnuts, he had said, “Whatever you crave in the future, just tell me. I’ll get it for you. I’d never let my girl hurt herself.”

But now… he had shoved a table full of walnuts at her, asking her to peel them for his mistress.

Patsy’s throat tightened. She blinked hard, forcing her voice steady.

“I don’t want to.”

Cornell, who had just sat down, froze for a moment, then sneered. “You sure about that?”

Her knee ached so badly she could barely stand, but she ignored him and turned away.

That’s when he pulled something from his pocket and tossed it onto the table.

“You can refuse if you want,” he said, voice sharp as a blade. “But don’t expect to see your grandma’s bracelet again.”

At the word bracelet, Patsy stopped dead and turned around.

Lying on the table was a delicate string of seashells—the keepsake her grandparents had exchanged as a token of love.

It had vanished years ago, tucked away by her grandmother and forgotten after dementia stole her memories.

Connee had searched everywhere for it, but it never turned up—until now, in Cornell’s hand.

Patsy’s eyes burned red in that instant. Without a word, she dropped to her knees in front of the coffee table.

“I’ll do it.”

Connee hadn’t seen the bracelet before she passed. If Patsy could bring it to her… maybe she’d be happy, wherever she was.

As she cracked the walnuts, her gaze never left the bracelet. She knew it was the one—she had seen it when she was a child.

But the shells were hard, and after a few attempts, blood welled from her fingertips. She resorted to using her teeth.

Just as she brought the walnut to her mouth, a sharp pain exploded across her face.