Regretting the Wife He Threw Away

Chapter 5

This child had always been frail-born with asthma, no less-and the one thing he couldn't handle was getting worked up from crying.

After all, she'd raised him single-handedly since he was a baby. No matter what, Briony just couldn't bring herself to abandon him.

"Irwin, sweetheart, I'm not leaving you, okay? Please, don't cry."

All Briony wanted was to calm Irwin down first.

But Fiona, standing nearby, heard this and twisted it to her own ends.

"Briony, do you have any shame? Irwin isn't even your own child! How dare you say something like that?"

Fiona, who always carried herself with the air of a high-society matriarch, didn't bother to hide her contempt for Briony. Her voice was sharp, dripping with venom.

"No wonder Irwin's never warmed up to me all these years. He's devoted to you, calls you 'Mom,' and now I see why. You've been brainwashing him behind my back, haven't you?"

The accusation was outrageous. Briony's expression hardened, despite her concern for the child.

"Mrs. Wentworth, when Stewart and I married, I didn't ask for your blessing. If you don't accept me as your daughter-in-law, fine-I won't force it. But do you really think, in front of a five-year-old, you're being a good example? So tell me: am I the disrespectful one, or are you just abusing your age and status?"

Briony's open defiance, her face flushing with anger.

I divorce is between us. Irwin can stay here with you if you like. I

louder. "Mom, don't leave me! I don't

already

looked after Irwin for five years and had never seen him

listen to reason right now. Let me take him home. When he's calm, I'll explain everything

took Irwin's hand and started for

keep up, his tiny feet moving as fast as they could, terrified she'd leave

after them—Rosita, rushing out in

yard, Rosita caught

was wrong, but I had my reasons back then. I love you,

want you! Let me go, you're a bad lady!" Irwin tried to wrench his arm free, but Rosita just gripped him tighter, her nails digging

hurt from

Mommy, help me! She's

Rosita, who wouldn't let go, her feelings

realized she couldn't pull Irwin away, she shifted her desperate gaze

beautiful face, making her

you-Irwin is my son, the child I carried for nine months and nearly died giving birth to. I know you've raised him these past five years, and I'm grateful. But he's not a pawn for you to tie Stewart