Regretting The Wife He Threw Away

Cedric Clarke and Lorna stood at the foot of the bed, taking turns to gently coax him, patiently repeating words of comfort.

The man who had always been proud and domineering now lay there in silence, meeting the end with a strange, calm acceptance.

The early August sun was setting, its warm glow slanting through the window, washing everything in red. Yet, no matter how the light touched his face, it couldn't bring color to his deathly pale cheeks.

A car rumbled into the driveway.

Carl was back.

Moments later, hurried footsteps pounded down the hall.

The bedroom door burst open.

Carl, breathless and flushed, rushed in clutching the photo album Briony had given him.

"Mr. Wentworth! Mr. Wentworth!"

He was rarely so reckless.

Stewart, who'd been slipping toward unconsciousness, was startled awake. His heavy eyelids lifted, and he gazed at Carl standing by the bed.

A faint crease appeared between Stewart's brows, a subtle wince betraying the worsening pain.

Carl's eyes were rimmed red as he thrust the album forward. "Mr. Wentworth, please look at this!"

Cedric and Lorna exchanged a glance.

They both guessed what Carl had brought must be from Briony.

But Stewart barely reacted.

Carl pressed on. "Miss Briony asked me to bring this to you."

made

took him a moment before he rasped, "Who... did

have this album. It's a collection of her photos from

effort, Stewart lifted a hand, reaching for the album, though his strength was all but

down and helped prop Stewart up, arranging

his thin wrist, Stewart slowly opened

little Nina, newly born, the

and wrinkled, lying in an incubator with a breathing mask over

He turned the pages-

Nina at one month;

Nina at two months;

Nina's first celebration;

by month, from birth to her first birthday, every change in his

at them, and a flush of red crept into the

fingers brushed gently over his daughter's

pictures, and in

promised her that night.

choed the words t

can wait, but you can't forget, okay? I only be in kindergarten for threeyears-you can't make

promised to take

she would only

she'd

years are so heartbreakingly brief-miss them, and you never

promise, and now here he was, about to

breath hitched; pain stabbed through his chest, sharp and relentless, as if someone were slicing into

small USB drive was tied to

there must be videos inside-snippets of

his eyes, each breath raw and shuddering, his

Carl kept silent vigil around