Regretting The Wife He Threw Away

"Stewart!"

Cedric Clarke finally lost it and shouted, "Can you stop being so damned

negative? Dr. Riley said if you'd just stay in Switzerland for treatment, there's still a chance "

"A five percent chance." Stewart looked at him, dark eyes bleak. "That's too low, Cedric. Don't try to talk me into it anymore. Just let me leave with some dignity."

Cedric stared at him, stunned.

"I want to go with some dignity. If the pain gets too much at the end, I'll apply for assisted dying in Switzerland. Carl Shaw will handle everything after I'm gone-no funeral, just a simple cremation. I'm sorry, but I'll need you to scatter my ashes over Pearbrook. It's close to Bryn's new place..."

"Stewart, shut up!" Cedric exploded, voice raw and furious. "To hell with your funeral plans! The minute I sort things out here, I'm hauling you back to Switzerland and handing you over to Dr. Riley. You're going to get treatment, whether you like it or not!"

Stewart's lips twitched into a faint, resigned smile as he met Cedric's glare.

"This is the best I can hope for, Cedric. Please, just this once, help me with what I'm asking."

Cedric froze, unable to process what he was hearing. He stared at Stewart in disbelief.

This was Stewart-once so proud and unyielding, now hollowed out by illness, his spirit battered by regret. He'd always seemed larger than life, but now, half- reclining on the wide bed, he looked fragile, helpless.

In Cedric's memory, Stewart had never asked anyone for anything. He was the proudest man he knew. Even that dark summer years ago when his own mother, Fiona, manipulated and abandoned him-he'd never begged, never lowered himself.

Stewart was begging him. Begging him not to

to end things

even

have you... have you wanted to die for a

closed his eyes,

as if he'd discovered an answer he'd been

dodge, did you? Is that it? Had you already given

Stewart said nothing.

were rimmed red, refusing to accept

You can make it up to Briony, but you can't just give up

easier, just dying then and there," Stewart rasped. "But then I remembered the divorce wasn't final. If I died, Bryn would be a widow, and

throat. "So you

"We're divorced now." Stewart's

smile

be

bitter, fleeting. "She