Regretting The Wife He Threw Away

Southern Vale Airport.

A private yacht was moored at the dock.

The captain warned that the sea was rough today, so they'd be moving slowly-it would take around four hours to reach Sapphire Shores.

Briony Kensington's head throbbed dully. As soon as she boarded the yacht, she found a quiet room and went straight to bed.

Stewart Wentworth, knowing she was unwell, asked one of the stewardesses to bring Briony some motion sickness pills.

Briony didn't protest. She swallowed the pills and collapsed onto the bed.

The wind was fierce, and the yacht rocked and pitched as it cut across the waves.

Briony hadn't slept well last night, and lying down didn't do much to ease her discomfort.

Eventually, the medicine began to work; she drifted in and out of a restless sleep.

When she finally woke, the boat was tossing even more violently than before.

She pushed back the covers and sat up, checking the time-only two hours had passed.

Frustration washed over her. Every minute felt like an eternity.

Just then, someone knocked on the door.

Briony slipped on her shoes and went to answer it.

Stewart stood outside, his gaze dark and steady. "Still feeling sick?"

Briony didn't bother replying.

used to her cold shoulder. "It'll be another two hours before we dock. You haven't eaten since this morning-I asked them to prepare lunch for you. Come

coolly. "I just want to rest. Let me

shut the door in

the closed door, lips pressed into

moment, he turned and

to eat-not just to avoid Stewart, but because the seasickness had killed her appetite. She could

in a haze of nausea

yacht reached the

boat, hand clasped over her mouth,

of a bottle of water and handing it to her. She

had been churning in her

need to rest, we

off, her voice

a brief nod.

...

twenty kilometers by car from the dock to where Julia Hudson

had rented a Volkswagen at the

out from the port, the pavement narrowed,

more primitive, her worry deepening with every

trees and arrived at

winding. It was impossible to take the car

at the edge of

got out, their shoes sinking into

single-story stone cottages. Every yard had a vegetable patch, and most families kept chickens or ducks-pungent farm smells drifted

Briony's expression grew more

really lived in such a remote,

farther?"