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?”
