Regretting The Wife He Threw Away

A faint sound of running water echoed through the phone.

Briony's breath hitched, but she forced herself to stay calm. "Irwin's fever still hasn't broken. The tests say he has acute bronchitis and pneumonia-he needs to be admitted for IV treatment."

Rosita's voice instantly tightened with worry. "How could this happen? Wasn't he perfectly fine when Stewart dropped him off this morning?"

The accusatory tone made Briony's brow furrow. "Ms. Lockwood, I have to remind you—Irwin's health is fragile. He has a long list of dietary restrictions."

With that, Briony ended the call.

She clenched her phone and glanced at Irwin, who lay on the hospital bed, sweating and restless even as he slept. A burning frustration twisted in her chest, making it hard to breathe.

A nurse came in and started Irwin's IV.

After about fifteen minutes, Irwin began to sweat, and his fever finally started to subside.

Just then, the door to the room swung open.

Stewart and Rosita hurried inside.

"Irwin!"

the bedside, tears streaming as she saw her son sleeping, hooked up to the

cheek and called

when he

right here!" Rosita stroked his face, voice thick with emotion. "Don't be afraid,

"Mom, don't go...'

tears came harder, her love

closed, and he slipped back into

if Irwin

a handkerchief from his pocket and handing it to

handkerchief and, without a word, buried herself in Stewart's arms. "It's all my fault. If I hadn't had

things like that." Stewart wrapped one strong arm around her shoulders, patting her gently.

Rosita wept, Stewart murmured soothing words, comforting her

stood silently at the foot of the bed, watching everything unfold. Pain pricked at her chest, sharp and

had no reason to stay any

word, Briony slipped out of the room. As she turned the corner, she nearly collided with Fiona,