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!"

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

his cheek and

awake, and when he saw Rosita,

thick with emotion. "Don't be

"Mom, don't go...'

anywhere." Rosita's tears came harder, her love

eyes fluttered closed, and he slipped

uncontrollably, as if Irwin

pocket and handing it to her. "Irwin's just resting. Try not to

buried herself in Stewart's arms. "It's all my fault. If I hadn't had such a difficult labor,

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

Stewart murmured soothing words, comforting her the whole

unfold. Pain pricked at her chest, sharp and relentless, but her face remained

she had no reason

she nearly collided