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.

once steaming,

up her fork, but her hand felt numb

like her marriage-cold and untouched,

and

warm, but the silence was broken

her side, feigning

heard Stewart come in, felt the

his body

Briony's brow furrowed.

the next instant, her nightgown was pushed up, his warm, dry hand

jolted, eyes flying

framed by his familiar silver-rimmed glasses. The bedside lamp

glass, his dark eyes were stormy

you?" Her voice came out soft and a little

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

her voice barely above a whisper. "Not unhappy. Just surprised, that's

His voice was low and rough, colored with an intimacy she'd