Regretting The Wife He Threw Away

Briony nodded. "Try to talk to Dr. Clarke, will you? Star's had a few drinks-she's not thinking straight. Don't take her words to heart."

"Alright." Stewart pushed open the door and stepped inside.

In the media room, the once-loving couple were now locked in a furious argument, faces flushed and voices raised.

Stella sat on the sofa, her face buried in her hands, sobbing. Cedric Clarke stood across from her, arms akimbo, his expression dark and stormy, chest heaving with anger.

There were no winners in this fight.

Once, they had loved each other fiercely. Now, only their cruelest words remained, cutting deeper than any blade.

Broken glass glinted on the floor, the sharp tang of spilled liquor hanging in the air. Through the open door, the heart-wrenching cries of a child echoed from outside. That sound pulled Stella and Cedric back from the edge, snapping the spell of their rage.

"Ms. Joyner's been drinking-her words don't count for much right now. Let it go," Stewart said quietly, stepping over to Cedric and giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

Cedric wiped a hand over his face, as if trying to clear his head.

He was just as lost in his anger. He was the one who'd smashed the bottle. Now, regret gnawed at him.

Stella stood by the coffee table, tears streaming silently down her cheeks.

Cedric looked at her, a heavy ache settling in his chest.

"Star, I-"

her tears away, brushed past

stepped out, little Aster spotted his mother and,

Stella didn't rush to scoop

seconds, when she didn't come to him, the wailing started again—louder,

reached for her son,

burrowed against her, hiccuping and whimpering,

herself unravel. She closed her eyes, hurt and exhausted, but still forced herself to soothe him in a trembling whisper. "Aster, sweetheart, you're a big boy now. Let's

could

what he wanted, Aster

came faster,

sobbed, clutching her child. "Why

She hurried over, wrapping an arm around Stella's shoulders. "It's alright, love. He's just tired and fussy, that's all. He's foo little to know any better. Let's

looked at Briony, lips

now, there was no choice but to try to

to make

the formula was ready, Stella took it and carried Aster upstairs, into the

the foot of the bed, holding her son in one arm, bottle in