Regretting The Wife He Threw Away

Stewart swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "So, you never once thought about bringing our daughter home, did you?"

"Of course not," Briony replied, her voice cold. "Every time I look at you, all I can see is my son. Stewart, you've never understood-my son is dead. I hate Rosita and Irwin, but the person I hate most... is you."

Stewart's pupils constricted, shock flickering across his face.

"After he died, every single time I saw you, I wanted nothing more than to drive a knife straight through your heart."

He stared at her, frozen.

"I hate you for always enabling Rosita, for forcing me to stay because of Irwin. But what I hate most is how, when you found out it was Rosita who killed our son, you did nothing. The thing I hate most... the thing I can never forgive..."

Briony's chest heaved, her voice trembling. "You wouldn't even let me see him one last time."

"That was my child," she choked out, "my flesh and blood. Even when I'd lost all hope in you, he was still my family. But because of you, because of all of you, I lost him. Forever! Stewart, how dare you even dream that we could ever go back to the way things were?"

That last sentence tore from her in a raw, anguished shout.

A sharp, unfamiliar pain twisted in Stewart's chest.

For the first time, he felt Briony's emotions with brutal clarity-the weight of her hatred, the depth of her resentment. Her eyes were rimmed with red, brimming with nothing but blame and fury.

In that moment, it was as if another voice echoed inside his mind: You can't go back. She's never coming back.

A surge of panic rose up in him, an emotion so foreign it nearly overwhelmed him. His rationality, his certainty-everything he clung to-splintered in an instant.

"I... I can change..."

a step forward, but Briony instantly

dead, helpless, staring at

her gaze filled

his feet were rooted

expression had already given him the answer, he

still have Little Nina," he pleaded, desperate now. "For

use our child to hold me hostage! Briony's patience snapped, her voice rising. "What is a child to you, Stewart? Honestly-do you even know how to love a child?

in his chest intensifying with every word

everything that's happened, I don't have any naïve hopes that you'll actually care for Little Nina. To

not true..." Stewart's voice was hoarse, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "I love her. I

a bitter laugh. "Do you even know

means? Take Irwin, for

you loved him. Sure, you gave him

novelone

groomed him as the future heir of the Wentworth family. But did you ever, even once, care about

clouded Stewart's

love anyone. All you ever do is weigh your options, calculate gains and losses. Everythingis about