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. "Are you trying to provoke me

meeting Fiona's glare, calm and unyielding. "Whether Stewart and I divorce is between us.

being left behind, Irwin clung to Briony even harder, sobbing louder. "Mom, don't leave me! I don't like Grandma's house! And I hate that bad woman! I just want to go home with you-please,

voice was already

had looked after Irwin for five years and had never

"He's too upset to listen to reason right now. Let

took Irwin's hand and started for the

his tiny feet moving as fast as

called after them—Rosita, rushing out

the front yard, Rosita caught Irwin by the

my reasons back then. I love you, I really

Irwin tried to wrench his arm free, but Rosita just gripped him tighter, her

little arm hurt

me! She's trying to

let go, her feelings tangled

Irwin away, she shifted her

streamed down Rosita's beautiful face, making

begging 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