Regretting The Wife He Threw Away

"That was all in the past."

Briony opened her eyes and met his gaze, her expression calm and steady. "After

I came back from Florence, I made up my mind to leave you. Everything that happened after just slowly strangled any last bit of feeling I had left for you."

With every word, Stewart's eyes seemed to lose their light, growing dimmer by the second.

"Stewart, the fact that I loved you-during those five years of our secret marriage —it was bittersweet. But I don't regret it. I cherished that love more than anything. But then, again and again, you hurt me, trampled on me, all for Florence and for Irwin. Eventually, I started to feel like loving you was pathetic..."

"I began to hate myself for being so weak. I started to hate the words 'I love you'..."

"Then, I truly decided to leave you. I made the choice to stop loving you. It wasn't easy. I struggled. I even thought about not keeping the baby..."

"Stewart, you'll never understand just how cold the wind is in Pearbrook."

"You'll never know what it feels like to walk into an operating room three times."

"And you'll never, ever know how much I hated myself the moment I found out our son was gone. I hated myself, Stewart-I hated that I ever loved you at all!"

A sharp ache twisted in Stewart's chest.

He stared at Briony, lost for words, not knowing how to respond.

"Stewart, you're the one who taught me what it means for love to turn into hate. And now you have the nerve to tell me you don't understand how we ended up like this?"

As she spoke, Briony let out a bitter laugh.

laughed, tears spilled down

I want to rip your heart out just to see if it's really as black

sat on the sofa,

you hate me, I accept that.

still clinging to me? Stewart, haven't I made myself clear

week." Stewart stood and walked toward

any closer,

and yanking

struggled, and the metal chain at her ankle scraped against the floor,

voice low. "Let's just be together like we used to, for one week.

"You're insane!"

rage, staring daggers at him. "Stewart, if you're sick, go see a

"Yes, you can."

grip on her wrist,

closed around the back of her neck,

air. Stewart's voice

if you have to pretend, just give me a week. One week-pretend with me,

chill ran

eyes and

gut.

wasn't acting normal

losing

If that was true-

in real