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!"

as she saw her son sleeping,

his cheek and called gently,

groggily awake, and when he saw

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

"Mom, don't go...'

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

closed, and he slipped back into

uncontrollably, as if Irwin had fallen gravely

a handkerchief from his pocket and handing

arms. "It's all my fault. If I hadn't had such a difficult labor, Irwin wouldn't be so weak now.

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

soothing words, comforting

watching everything unfold. Pain pricked at her chest,

no

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