He Gave Her Strawberries, Gave Me Hives (Ford and Sylvia) novel Chapter 73

After losing Scarlett, Cormac became the very thing he used to despise.

He used to be the golden boy, the youngest prodigy in his field, respected wherever he walked.

But now, he was a zombie, a soul sucked dry, trapped in that house full of memories, living day and night with alcohol and regret.

As the truth festered online, the abuse never stopped. Each comment was a knife carving out a piece of his heart.

Scumbag. Hypocrite. Wife–killer.

These labels were nailed to him, turning him into a punchline for everyone’s dinner table gossip.

le dragged himself through existence.

lis clinic shut down under the weight of the scandal. Friends and colleagues who used to orbit him now treated him like a leper.

lis once–bustling home was now a silent wreck.

y day, he curled up on the sofa, clutching Scarlett’s belongings, staring into nothing.

lights were hell. He needed a cocktail of booze and sleeping pills just to pass out.

ut sleep brought no peace. He’d wake up screaming from nightmares of Scarlett–her red, teary eyes when he accused her, her desperate look as she was ragged away, and that cold, black urn.

very image screamed at him: “You idiot.*

e began to obsessively replay every moment they had together.

ven the intimate moments he used to be too “dignified” to mention were now his most precious treasures.

carlett was always so open and fiery, loving to cling to him for kisses and hugs. Sometimes she’d dress up just for him.

Tearing that beautiful silk nightgown, seducing him like a blooming flower.

ruth be told, he never hated it. He craved her touch. He was addicted to it. Every time she touched him, his heart raced.

ut his arrogant pride and pathological need for control kept him from ever showing it.

e was terrified that if he indulged, he’d lose control, that she would have power over him.

hinking back now… what a fool he was.

Then Scarlett was alive, he took her for granted. Now that she was gone, it felt like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. Every breath was torture.

he great psychologist could never cure his own broken mind.

[onths flashed by in a blur.

ne morning, his phone rang.

ormac answered. It was his doctor, sounding grave.

Mr. Wilder, your test results came back. Severe liver damage, cardiac abnormalities. It’s not looking good. You need to come in for a follow up immediately. Do ot delay.”

Chapter 15

Cormac hung up, a mocking smile curling his lips.

“I’m already dead inside. What’s the point of checking the body?”

But then he thought: if he died sooner, maybe he’d meet Scarlett on the other side and beg for her forgiveness.

Clinging to this absurd hope, he went to the hospital.

The hospital was crowded and noisy, giving him a headache.

After his tests, while waiting for the results, a familiar voice drifted over from nearby.

It was light as a feather, but it hit his heart like a bullet.

“Veronica, after the check–up, let’s go soak up some sun. It’s beautiful out today.”

Cormac froze. His blood turned to ice.

That voice was etched into his bones. He would know it anywhere!

Trembling, he turned toward the sound. Not far away, a slender figure in loose hospital pajamas was being carefully supported by Veronica.

“Sure, whatever you want. I’ll get you that dessert you like later, but remember, the doctor said watch the sugar and spice during recovery.”

“I know, I know. I’ll be good.”

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