"Stewart!"


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


    negative? Dr. Riley said if you''d just stay in Switzend 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 Switzend. 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 ce..."


    "Stewart, shut up!" Cedric exploded, voice raw and furious. "To hell with your funeral ns! The minute I sort things out here, I''m hauling you back to Switzend 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 re.


    "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 seemedrger 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, manipted and abandoned him-he''d never begged, never lowered himself.


    But now Stewart was begging him. Begging him not to push for that five percent chance.


    Begging for help to end things on his own terms.


    Cedric''s thoughts spun; before he could even speak, his eyes started to burn.


    "Stewart, have you... have you wanted to die for a long time?"


    Stewart closed his eyes, refusing to answer.


    But Cedric pressed on, as if he''d discovered an answer he''d been searching for all along.


    "When Briony stabbed you on the yacht, you didn''t even try to dodge, did you? Is that it? Had you already given up back then?"


    Stewart said nothing.


    Cedric''s eyes were rimmed red, refusing to ept what he already knew.


    "Stewart, this isn''t right. You can make it up to Briony, but you can''t just give up like this-"


    "I did think it would be 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 on top of that, she''d be used of murder. I couldn''t do that to her. I couldn''t be that selfish."


    Cedric''s breath caught in his throat. "So you know all that, but now-why-"


    "We''re divorced now." Stewart''s


    smile


    be


    bitter, fleeting. "She


    it won''t. I''ll just die of i


    I have anything to


    and


    her."


    Cedric dragged a hand over his face,


    teeth clenched, at a total loss for


    words. Furious, desperate, he


    he could


    only curse, "You''re out of your mind. Completely insane."


    Stewart shut his eyes, a faint, sorrowful curve touching his lips.


    "The truth is, I should''ve died when I was eight."


    His voice lingered in the vast, quiet bedroom.


    “These extra years..... I suppose I was living on borrowed time."