Regretting the Wife He Threw Away

Chapter 180

After they arrived at the hotel-

Stella swiped the keycard and pushed the door open. Briony's face twisted in discomfort; she clapped a hand over her mouth and rushed straight into the bathroom.

Retching echoed from inside.

"Bryn—” Stella called, hurrying after her.

Outside the bathroom, Stewart and Cedric Clarke waited in the hallway, listening

to Briony's painful vomiting. Both men wore grim expressions.

It was a while before the sounds finally subsided.

Stella emerged, supporting a pale and exhausted Briony as they left the bathroom together.

The room had two beds. Stella guided Briony to one and helped her lie down.

Briony was clearly feeling awful-she barely managed to close her eyes before slipping into a restless sleep.

Stella pressed her palm to Briony's forehead.

A slight fever.

She tucked the blanket around Briony, then got up and stepped outside the room. Looking straight at Cedric Clarke, she said, "Leave your first aid kit with me."

Cedric handed it over, concern etched on his face. "Is she all right?"

cold look at Stewart. "Thanks to someone, she was throwing up nonstop on the flight and now, just landed, she's running

Cedric had no answer.

the kit from Cedric's hands and shut the

Cedric scratched his nose and shook his head. "Man,

thin line, his

he turned and strode

him, "Hey, where

...

the room, Stella

99.9 degrees.

her fever

opened the first aid kit, rummaged through

she soaked a cloth in rubbing alcohol and gently wiped Briony's forehead and neck, hoping to bring

sleep, brow furrowed in distress. Even unconscious, she looked

and she silently cursed

was fitful-her body alternated between chills and feverish heat. She had a vague sense of someone tending to her, but her eyelids felt impossibly heavy; she just couldn't wake

blurred and shifted. Somewhere in that fog, she

"Bryn... Bryn..."

sound and found

stretched on and on, so long she began to feel

another voice echoed

any further! Come back,

She stopped and turned.

into a sun-dappled path lined with

her grandfather taught her to ride a bike along a path just like this. She'd been so afraid of falling, always struggling to learn, but her grandfather never scolded her. He was always there with a steady hand and

to say, "The hardest part is always the beginning. It's not talent that matters most, Bryn-it's the courage to