As soon as the words left Cornell’s mouth, he opened the door and threw Patsy out.

With new injuries piled on top of old ones, Patsy lay weakly on the ground, unable to get up.

The storm lashed down like needles, drenching her clothes in mere seconds.

The icy rain seeped into her bones, and uncontrollable shivers wracked her body.

Cornell stood at the doorway, lips pressed into a hard line, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white.

He watched her struggle—crawl up only to collapse again—and for a fleeting moment, he almost reached out to help her. But he crushed that impulse, forcing himself to turn away.

“Theo,” his voice was cold as he ordered the butler, “watch her. She’s not allowed back inside for at least three hours.”

Without another glance, he started to walk back in.

Patsy pushed herself up on trembling arms and shouted after him, her voice cracking against the downpour.

“Cornell! Stevvi hit Grandma on purpose! I went to France because of you!”

But the storm drowned her words. She didn’t hear a reply, only the heavy thud of the door slamming shut.

A laugh broke from her lips, brittle and broken. Her whole body shook, and the water streaming down her face blurred into tears she could no longer distinguish.

Theo hesitated, heart aching at the sight. He walked over with an umbrella and tried to reason with her.

“Ma'am, Sir Cornell didn’t mean it. Just say something soft. He won’t stay angry forever. You two are husband and wife, after all.”

Patsy shook her head, a bitter smile tugging at her lips.

Seeing her stubborn refusal to yield, Theo sighed and retreated under the eaves, helpless.

But only Patsy knew—her shake of the head wasn’t just about refusing to give in. It was her silent admission: they weren’t husband and wife anymore.

Since Cornell thought marrying her was a waste, she would solve that problem for him.

The rain didn’t stop; it only grew heavier.

By the time she made it back to her room, her entire body burned with fever.

She collapsed on the bed, slipping into a restless haze. In her dreams, she was back in her childhood home.

Connee was there, teaching her to plant vegetables, pushing her on a swing, making their old house look warm and beautiful.

But when everything was done, Connee smiled and waved goodbye.

A crushing sadness wrapped around Patsy’s heart. She clung desperately to her grandmother’s hand and cried out, “Grandma, don’t go! Please, come back…”

But the moment Connee stepped out of the courtyard, she vanished into thin air.

“Grandma!” Patsy jolted awake, gasping, her voice hoarse.

Her hand had clamped down hard on Cornell’s, making his brows knit in pain.

He quietly pried her fingers off, straightening from the bedside without a word.

Looking down at her sweat-drenched and disoriented face, he let out a sharp and mocking laugh.

“If you miss Connee so much, why don’t you stay at the hospital with her? What’s the point of pretending here? If you’re awake, get up. Help Stevvi pick out a dress.”

Perhaps it was the fever, or the lingering sorrow from her dream, but Patsy’s defenses crumbled in that instant.

She reached out and grabbed his hand, her bloodshot eyes locking on his with raw desperation.

“Cornell… can you hold me?”

She couldn’t even remember how long it had been since that embrace she once loved had belonged to her.

His hand went numb under her grip. He froze, staring into her eyes, dazed for a heartbeat too long until a voice rang from the doorway.

“Hon?”

It was Stevvi. The spell broke. Cornell jerked his hand free with a snap.

“Are you that starved for love, Patsy? Should I find you a few men to fix that?”

“Don’t you ever touch me again,” he warned. “I feel dirty.”

After saying that, he yanked a few tissues from the box and scrubbed his hand over and over, as if her touch had soiled him.

The look of revulsion in his eyes made Patsy go still.

Shame scorched through her as she realized what a pathetic thing she had just done.

Lowering her lashes to hide the tears stinging her eyes, she turned her head away from him.

The air turned thick with silence until Stevvi stepped inside. She paused when she caught the look in Cornell’s eyes, a flicker of malice flashing in her own.

But in the next second, she masked it with a sweet smile and slid her hand through his arm, her tone dripping with coyness.

“Hon, those dresses are all so boring. Can I wear that simple wedding dress to the party instead?”

The moment Stevvi mentioned the “simple wedding dress,” Patsy knew exactly which one she meant.

It was that one Cornell had personally arranged back in college—a collaboration with a world-class brand, designed exclusively for Patsy. She wore that very dress at their wedding.

From the fabric to the design, Cornell had supervised every detail himself. Even the tiny diamonds on it—he had set them in one by one with his own hands.

The dress was simple, yet brimming with love. She remembered asking him back then why he didn’t make her a big, sweeping gown.

His answer had been “Because if you ever try to run away from the wedding, you’ll be able to run faster.”

But Patsy knew that wasn’t the real reason. Deep down, it was his selfishness talking.

He didn’t want the dress to be something she could only wear once. If the dress were less cumbersome, she could put it on more often.

That way, everyone would know whose wife she was—that the one-of-a-kind dress belonged to her alone.

Yet now, it seemed that the dress was about to have a new owner.

Her eyes flickered slightly before she heard Cornell answer.

“Of course, you can have it. But you’ll need to ask its former owner first.”

The sarcasm in his tone didn’t escape Patsy. Calling her the “former owner” meant her opinion no longer mattered.

He was only using that dress as a weapon to mock her.

If this had been before, she would’ve begged him not to give it away. But now… now, she couldn’t care less.

Before Stevvi could even ask, Patsy answered.

“Take it,” she said evenly. “I don’t want it anymore.”

The calmness on her face stirred something strange in Cornell’s chest.

For the past two years, he’d tortured her in every way he could think of. Every time, she’d cry until she couldn’t breathe, desperately explaining her side of the story over and over.

But these past two days, she seemed like a different person. She didn’t cry, and she didn’t try to explain to him anymore.

After a moment’s thought, he convinced himself this was just another ploy. She must be trying to trick him—get him to soften up and fall for her again.

His expression darkened at the thought, his voice laced with venom.

“How generous of you. Why don’t you throw in the amethyst set, too? And the ring. After all, you don’t seem to care anymore.”

Patsy had only one ring—their wedding band. She closed her eyes briefly, and then she slid it off her finger.

“Sure.”

The way she agreed so swiftly made Cornell’s face turn so thunderous that it was almost ugly.

“If you’re that willing,” he sneered, “then give her Connee’s bracelet, too. I’m sure Stevvi loves that piece. Don’t you, Stevvi?”

Stevvi’s fingers dug into her palm as she forced a smile. “Yeah…”

Patsy froze, her voice sharp with panic. “That bracelet’s worthless. Just… return it to me.”

Cornell’s lips curved into a cruel smile.

“I can give it back,” he said softly. “On one condition—you come to the party tonight.”

Her fever still hadn’t broken, but for the bracelet, she nodded.

What she didn’t expect was that the party would be nothing short of a death trap.

“Cornell, what are you trying to do?”

The sight before her made her scalp prickle with terror—a Tibetan mastiff in a steel cage, bared teeth glinting under the light.

The scene dragged her back to those two years of hell. She couldn’t live through that again.

But Cornell’s next words sealed her fate.

“Almost forgot to tell you—the theme of tonight’s party is beast fights. Stevvi’s afraid of dogs, so… you’re up.”

Forgot? No, his tone said he never intended to tell her at all. And Stevvi? She looked anything but scared. She was practically buzzing with excitement.

As drool dripped from the mastiff’s jaws, Patsy’s entire body went rigid. Every instinct screamed for her to run.

She forced her voice to stay calm.

“You only told me to come to the party,” she said coldly. “You never said anything about this. Give me the bracelet. I’m leaving.”

Patsy’s neck stiffened as she slowly reached out her hand toward Cornell.

But he let out a low, mocking laugh instead. “Go keep that beast entertained, and I promise you’ll get the bracelet right away. Or,” his voice dipped colder, “you can refuse, and I’ll give the bracelet to that beast as a toy instead.”

Patsy’s hand froze midair. A chill surged through her veins, cold sweat breaking out across her body.

Cornell’s eyes locked on her with unyielding intensity. There wasn’t the slightest hint of a joke in his expression.

Her lips trembled as she tightly closed her eyes, curling her fingers into her palm with helpless resignation. She knew there was no way out.

Terror consumed her, making her entire body tremble. But she still forced herself to speak, her voice faint yet stubborn.

“You said it yourself—when I’m done, you’ll give it back to me.”

With that, she stiffly strapped on the basic protective gear and stepped into the iron cage, tall enough to hold a man.

Seeing her move, Cornell’s body stilled for a second. His gaze grew darker, unfathomable.

The low, guttural breathing of the beast filled Patsy’s ears, primal and threatening. Instinctively, she shifted into a defensive stance.

One after another, people were shoved into nearby cages, their terrified screams echoing through the space like a storm.

Startled by the commotion, the Tibetan mastiff in front of her lunged with a ferocious snarl.

Relying on old instincts, she lifted her leg and kicked hard at its belly.

But her body—worn down from two years of relentless torment—couldn’t hold up. The kick barely bought her a second before the mastiff’s weight crashed down, turning the fight into a savage one-sided assault.

Pain ripped through her arm as its teeth sank in deep. Patsy collapsed onto the blood-stained floor of the cage, her scarlet eyes drifting toward Cornell’s silhouette in the distance.

The mastiff released her arm only to clamp down on her knee—the same knee that had been mauled once before.

She squeezed her eyes shut, all hope extinguished, and a single tear slid from the corner of her eye.

Blood seeped across the cage floor, and the scent drove the beast into a frenzy. It reared back to tear another chunk of flesh.

But suddenly, it toppled sideways with a thud, a gaping and bloodied hole in its skull.

The gunshot cracked like thunder, leaving Stevvi frozen in shock. It took her a full second to latch onto Cornell’s arm.

She opened her mouth to speak, but his icy glare cut her down before the words could form.

“If this was part of your plan,” he said, his tone like a blade, “then there’s no point in signing that contract.”

He flung the gun away with visible irritation.

“Boring,” he muttered. “I’m leaving.”

Before he walked out, Cornell stopped by Patsy’s cage. With a cold, almost mocking air, he tossed the bracelet onto the pool of blood in front of her.

“A bracelet means more to you than I ever did. Hah. You really are something, Patsy.”

His voice carried bitter self-mockery. Without another glance, he turned and strode away.

Patsy’s heart had long since turned to ash. She didn’t want to explain. Not anymore.

With trembling fingers, she picked up the blood-streaked bracelet and wrapped her wounds with practiced hands before dragging her battered and bloodied body home.

The train was leaving at dawn. She still needed to pack.

Through the night, she carefully sorted everything that belonged to her grandmother into a suitcase. Not a single item of her own went in.

At sunrise, she asked Theo to help her send out a parcel. And then, she finally opened the door.

The moment it swung wide, she saw Cornell leaning against his car.

His brows knitted tight the instant he saw her—pale, broken, barely standing.

“You’re about to die, and you don’t even think of seeing a doctor? You’re that desperate to get away from me?”

His tone dripped with cold sarcasm, but Patsy had no strength left to argue with him.

“There’s only this train,” she murmured weakly.

Cornell didn’t answer. He just yanked the car door open in a silent command to get in.

But she shook her head faintly.

“I already booked a ticket. I won’t trouble you.”

That quiet refusal lodged in his chest like a jagged stone. With a sharp slam, he shut the door. Unwilling to humiliate himself further, he stepped on the gas to leave.

But as he passed her, he slowed down and said in a cold, hard voice, “When you pick up Connee, take your time. When you come back, we’re going to have a proper talk.”

Her eyes burned instantly at those words. A second later, tears slipped free.

She had waited for those words for so long—only to hear them now on the day she was leaving. She no longer wanted it.

Still, she forced a faint smile and nodded. “Alright.”

Satisfied with her answer, Cornell didn’t linger. His car roared away down the road.

After he was gone, Patsy sent the prepared package to her closest friend.

When the train finally lurched forward, she pulled out the small urn from her bag and clutched it tight.

Staring out the window, she whispered a silent farewell.

‘Goodbye, Cornell. Goodbye, Patsy—the woman who once loved so fiercely.’