Regretting The Wife He Threw Away

The knock on the master bedroom door echoed softly through the quiet house.

Briony Kensington had just stepped out of the bathroom, damp hair clinging to her neck, dressed in white cotton pajamas. The long sleeves and pants did little to hide how thin she'd become.

She walked over and opened the door.

Stewart Wentworth stood there, frowning slightly. "It's late. Why are you washing your hair now?"

She offered a weary smile. "We had a barbecue tonight. My hair still smells like smoke."

"You shouldn't catch a chill," Stewart said, his voice stern. "Let me dry your hair for you."

Briony blinked, surprised, and shook her head. "It's nothing. I can manage." Stewart ignored her protest and held out a cup. "You need to take your medicine first. Don't worry, I'll leave as soon as I'm done."

She hesitated, pressing her lips together, then gave in.

Briony settled in front of her dressing table. Stewart handed her the medicine; it was warm, just the right temperature. She drank it in one go, the bitterness so familiar it barely registered anymore.

A moment later, a wrapped piece of creamy white candy appeared in front of her. Stewart's gentle voice came from above. "From Nina's secret stash."

Briony's lashes fluttered as she reached out and took it, closing her hand around the sweet.

Stewart switched on the hairdryer, setting it to warm. One of his arms was still bandaged; the doctor had said those knife wounds were deep, with some infection and inflammation, and would likely leave scars. Stewart didn't seem to care. He was just grateful it was his left arm, so it didn't get in the way of looking after Briony.

The only sound in the bedroom was the low hum of the hairdryer.

Briony's hair was long and silky, falling to her waist, but lately, because of her illness, it had started to come out in clumps.

finally dry,

gathered the fallen hair into

bobbing, pain flickering in his

mirror, saw

thanked him softly, and went to the bathroom

put the hairdryer away,

he leaned against the closed door, gazing at the small bundle of dark hair

that Briony's

eyes and swallowed his anxiety, letting it settle in the pit of

Kensington villa bustled with warmth

Maynard showed up almost daily, never, empty-handed. One day, he brought local pastries from Northborough; the next, a basket of fruit or a bouquet of fresh flowers. Of course, the twins were always

her off. "It's nothing. That's

friend, and Briony couldn't argue without seeming

the agreement. Maynard bought five percent of

valuation, those shares were worth much more, but Briony had discussed it

bone marrow match,

to persuade Maynard to take over Starlight

room to introduce him to the senior team

success to Briony's vision, especially the documentary series she had masterminded. Without its explosive popularity, the

the entire leadership team. More than anything, they

obvious to anyone who looked at her-no amount of makeup could hide her pallor or the fragile

...