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!"

she saw her son sleeping, hooked up

cheek and

when he saw Rosita, he murmured,

stroked his face, voice thick with emotion. "Don't be afraid, sweetheart. I'm

"Mom, don't go...'

harder, her love and worry for

eyes fluttered closed, and he

as if Irwin

from his pocket and handing it to

"It's all my fault. If I hadn't had such a difficult

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

Stewart murmured soothing words, comforting her the whole

unfold. Pain pricked at her chest, sharp and relentless,

had no

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