Regretting The Wife He Threw Away

In the bridal suite, Mary sat quietly with Briony.

The wedding ceremony was just thirty minutes away.

"Briony, are you nervous?" Mary asked gently.

Briony looked over at her. Mary was dressed in a blush-pink bridesmaid gown, looking sweet and lovely, though the gentle swell of her belly made the dress sit awkwardly on her frame.

"Mary," Briony murmured, reaching for her hand.

Mary's hand was cold and slick with sweat.

"Listen to me," Briony said, her tone grave. "No matter what-whether it's the baby you're carrying or Ferdinand himself—you must remember that you come first. If anything happens, you save yourself before anyone else. Promise me."

Mary caught the strange seriousness in her voice and opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, the door swung open.

Ferdinand strode in, immaculate in a white suit.

Briony quietly released Mary's hand.

Ferdinand carried an insulated container, his eyes fixed on Briony, paying no attention to Mary at all.

"I asked Belinda to make you some nourishing soup, and she also prepared a few of your favorite side dishes," he said.

He crossed the room, slipped an arm around Briony's shoulders, and spoke gently, "Once the ceremony starts, I might not be able to take care of you. You've been looking pale-have a little soup first, all right?"

Briony nodded faintly.

especially on a day like this. The

leaned down and pressed a light

flicker of disgust flashed in Briony's eyes, her brows drawing together for just a

a maid, and reached out for the container.

led Briony to the sofa and sat down

soup into a

to me," Ferdinand said.

Briony replied coolly. "I'm perfectly capable

words, then took the bowl Mary passed him and let Briony take it from his

quietly sipped her soup, head

an expression of tenderness and

silently nearby, eyes

however, only

didn't love Ferdinand

the three of them, not a single one would get what they truly

be a tragedy

...

ceremony began right

every pew was nearly filled. The red carpet was strewn with fresh rose petals, and the Wedding

Ferdinand stood tall and proud

doors

white gown entered clutching a bouquet, entered, supported by

air as every eye in the chapel