Regretting The Wife He Threw Away

Stewart's gravesite had been chosen by a renowned spiritualist, whose services Cedric Clarke had secured at great expense.

Stewart, in life, had made it clear he didn't want a funeral. His only wish was for his ashes to be scattered along the banks of Pearbrook.

That, however, proved impossible. In the end, Cedric honored Stewart's wishes as best he could.

Briony quietly took on the responsibility for all the expenses-from the burial plot to the simple ceremony itself.

Cedric had called her, insisting he wanted to contribute, a gesture of brotherhood and remembrance. After some thought, Briony allowed him to cover a small portion.

As Stella once said, people are complicated. Stewart wasn't just a father to his two children; he was also a friend, a mentor, a colleague. The lives he touched were proof he'd truly been here.

Briony couldn't refuse others the chance to express their respect for Stewart. On the day of the funeral, a fine mist drizzled from a gray sky.

The ceremony was intimate and unadorned.

Those present were few: Cedric Clarke, Briony, James, Carl, Lorna, Carol, and the directors of two orphanages.

the one to reach

When he learned of his illness, he entrusted both his law

care.

children in tow, each child clutching a handmade

appointed hour-chosen by the spiritualist-Briony approached the grave, wearing a simple black dress, two

favorite suit, the one he'd worn to countless important moments in

gentle guidance, she laid the

it

soon blanketed the grave

from the family tree by Fred, but he was always Grandpa Wentworth's favorite grandson. The Wentworth name lives on

been calling me nonstop,

sharp. "When Fred turned on Stewart, they all lined up to stab him in the back. Now, with the Wentworth Group in ruins, the family's only thinking about itself. They see Stewart's legacy

family worth longing for. Let Stewart rest here, in peace. He never really got to live for himself. Let him have

Briony listened in silence.

lingered on the black-and-white photograph on the gravestone a copy of his ID photo brows furrowed, lips unsmiling. She realized,