Cold Husband Burning Regret: The Divorce He Couldn't Handle novel Chapter 250

That afternoon, the neurology department's waiting area was lined with about a dozen patients, all hoping for an appointment with Dr. Judd Carstairs. A few had already become familiar faces, returning for follow-ups or advice.

Charlotte sat nearby, quietly taking notes, while Judd reviewed test results, assessed the severity of each case, and determined whether surgery was necessary—and if so, what kind.

Just then, an elderly man in his sixties, partially paralyzed, was wheeled in by his family. “Dr. Carstairs,” called a middle-aged woman.

Judd recognized them immediately. “You’re Mr. Connelly’s family, right?”

“Yes, that’s us.” The woman’s voice was tinged with shame. “Last year, my husband spent some time in neurology. The head doctor there asked you to come up with a treatment plan for us. If only we’d listened to you back then and gone ahead with the surgery… Maybe he wouldn’t be like this now…”

Her regret was palpable, her voice trembling on the verge of tears.

Her son stood by her side, trying to comfort her, while her younger daughter stayed silent, occasionally glancing up at Judd.

Charlotte shot Judd a quick look, but he said nothing. Instead, he picked up a penlight and moved over to examine Mr. Connelly’s pupils.

“Dr. Carstairs, you’re the youngest neurosurgeon at District General Hospital. It was our fault for not realizing how serious his condition was and ignoring your advice. Is there any chance my husband can recover?”

“Has he had any episodes since he was discharged?”

“Yes. He’s been on blood pressure medication, but a few days ago he started having seizures, got confused, and then just… collapsed.”

Judd picked up the latest MRI scan from the desk. “What we’re seeing is classic cerebral arteriosclerosis. Last year, it was only a minor stroke. If you’d agreed to minimally invasive surgery back then, things wouldn’t have progressed this far.”

“It’s my fault, all my fault.” The woman buried her face in her hands, crying.

Her son turned to Judd, voice anxious. “So what happens now? Does my dad need surgery?”

Judd glanced at Charlotte. “Director Sterling, you’ll be leading the operation. What do you think?”

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