Regretting The Wife He Threw Away

Out in the yard, the two children were laughing and playing with Stewart, their voices bright and joyful, carrying through the crisp winter air and into the house.

Briony watched them through the window, a gentle smile softening her features. "Star, help me take a few more photos and videos, would you?" she asked quietly. Stella's heart felt heavy, but she kept her expression calm as she nodded. "Of course." She reached for the camera and began snapping shots from every angle she could find.

In the snowy garden, Stewart crouched beside a snowman, the children flanking him on either side. The three of them turned together, glancing back at Briony as if drawn by the same thought.

Separated by the glass of the French doors, their eyes met-mother and father, son and daughter-a family united by a single, silent gaze.

Briony lifted her hand, her fingertips pressing gently against the cold pane.

Click.

Stella captured the moment perfectly.

She stared at the image on the camera's screen, her breath catching, tears stinging at her eyes.

Two days ago, Dr. Cedric Clarke had said that if a donor couldn't be found soon, Briony might not make it

quickly, wiping

too tired to entertain guests for long, so

and a

few days. She'd pushed herself to stay awake while the children were there, but now, with the

the room. Briony was slumped against the headboard, sleeping so deeply that even in rest, her

beside her, gazing at the woman who had fought so hard, for so long. His chest ached with helpless sorrow. He knew how brave she'd been, holding on for the sake of their children, but the painkillers

refusing to give in, but

had gathered again for a consultation. The prognosis was grim. No one told Briony,

couldn't bring himself to wake her. Instead, he slipped into the bathroom and brought back a

felt something cool brushing gently over her face.

me help you clean your face. Once you've had your medicine, you can go back

a faint sound of agreement, then closed her