Regretting The Wife He Threw Away

Briony Kensington and Stewart Wentworth had been secretly married for five years-living as husband and wife in form, but never in feeling.

Or rather, if Briony felt anything at all for her husband, she hid it so well that not a trace ever showed.

On Christmas Eve, the city outside was alive with lights and laughter, the streets blanketed with fresh snow. Inside the vast, echoing halls of Southcreek Manor, Briony sat alone.

She'd made herself a bowl of pasta, but hadn't taken a single bite.

Her phone lay on the table, screen aglow with a video from social media—

A man's slender, elegant hand slid a diamond ring onto a woman's delicate finger. The woman's voice, bright and sweet, chimed in the caption: "Mr. Wentworth, here's to the rest of our lives."

Briony's eyes were drawn to the watch on the man's wrist-a limited edition piece, unmistakably his. A sharp ache twisted in her chest.

The video had long since paused, but she couldn't tear her gaze away. She watched it over and over, torturing herself with the certainty.

Six months ago, this woman had sent her a friend request out of the blue.

Ever since, Briony had seen her husband pop up in the woman's posts with disturbing regularity.

Five years of marriage, and only tonight did Briony realize Stewart was capable of tenderness, of romance, of caring attention.

steaming, had gone

up her fork, but her hand felt numb and

like her marriage-cold and untouched, something

She stood, washed up, and retreated to her room, turning off the lights and lying down in

deepened. The bedroom was warm, but the silence was broken by the quiet

lay on her side,

in, felt the mattress dip

body pressed close,

Briony's brow furrowed.

pushed up, his warm, dry hand sliding

jolted, eyes flying

sharply handsome face hovered above her, the bridge of his nose framed by his familiar silver-rimmed glasses. The bedside lamp cast a soft orange glow, reflecting

glass, his dark

voice came

of her eyes, one eyebrow arching. "Not happy to see

met his gaze, her voice barely above

long fingers brushed gently over her cheek, the touch both tender and possessive. His voice was low and rough, colored with an intimacy she'd never truly known