Regretting the Wife He Threw Away

Chapter 301

Southern Vale Airport.

A private yacht was moored at the dock.

The captain warned that the sea was rough today, so they'd be moving slowly-it would take around four hours to reach Sapphire Shores.

Briony Kensington's head throbbed dully. As soon as she boarded the yacht, she found a quiet room and went straight to bed.

Stewart Wentworth, knowing she was unwell, asked one of the stewardesses to bring Briony some motion sickness pills.

Briony didn't protest. She swallowed the pills and collapsed onto the bed.

The wind was fierce, and the yacht rocked and pitched as it cut across the waves.

Briony hadn't slept well last night, and lying down didn't do much to ease her discomfort.

Eventually, the medicine began to work; she drifted in and out of a restless sleep.

When she finally woke, the boat was tossing even more violently than before.

She pushed back the covers and sat up, checking the time-only two hours had passed.

Frustration washed over her. Every minute felt like an eternity.

Just then, someone knocked on the door.

Briony slipped on her shoes and went to answer it.

Stewart stood outside, his gaze dark and steady. "Still feeling sick?"

Briony didn't bother replying.

hours before we dock. You haven't eaten since this morning-I asked them to prepare lunch for you. Come eat

just want to rest. Let me know when we

shut the door in

the closed door, lips pressed into a thin

moment, he turned and

but because the seasickness had killed her appetite. She could barely stand the thought of

in

the yacht

the boat, hand clasped over her mouth, and made it to a nearby trash can

of water and handing it to her. She took it

that had been churning in her stomach

"Are you sure you're okay? If you need to rest, we can find a guesthouse nearby and wait until

off, her voice steady. "Let's

gave her a brief

...

twenty kilometers by car from

Shaw had rented a Volkswagen

from the port, the pavement narrowed, riddled with potholes and

scenery grow more and more primitive, her worry deepening with every passing

a thicket of trees and arrived at a small

even narrower and more winding. It was impossible to take the car

parked at the edge of the

got out, their shoes sinking into the muddy, rain-soaked lane

were single-story stone cottages. Every yard had a vegetable patch, and most families

step, Briony's expression grew

a remote, impoverished place

farther?"

glanced back.

Briony looked up.

only a single stone cottage