Regretting the Wife He Threw Away

Chapter 553

The Clarke family knew a reputable spiritual advisor. Arranging the burial plot fell to Cedric Clarke.

By the time they left the police station, the rain had finally stopped.

Cedric unlocked the car and turned to Briony. "Are you going to the funeral?"

"I'll go on behalf of the children," she replied.

Cedric pressed his lips together, nodded, and slid into the driver's seat. The car pulled away, leaving the others behind.

Carl was inconsolable. This six-foot-tall man crouched on the curb beside the black Maybach, his broad shoulders trembling as he sobbed like a lost child.

Watching him, James let out a heavy sigh. "Carl truly was loyal to Stewart, right to the end."

Briony walked over, rummaged through her purse, and handed Carl a packet of tissues. "Here-wipe your face. You need to pull yourself together. Stewart's gone, but the firm is still here. He trusted you deeply. You have to honor that and keep the practice running."

Carl stared at her in surprise, then his grief erupted anew.

"Ms. Kensington, our Mr. Wentworth is gone-he's really gone..."

remained unchanged, her

stretched long across the wet pavement. The light caught her

was falling apart? Didn't she love Mr. Wentworth at all? Even if she no longer loved him, they'd

than to question Briony. If Mr. Wentworth could

He buried his head in his hands, overcome. "Mr. Wentworth was planning to go to Switzerland for treatment. Why-why did this have to happen just when he finally wanted to fight for his

sense of it. All he felt was the bitterness

cigarette. She held it between elegant fingers, but didn't bother to take a drag.

she grabbed Briony's arm

were red as she searched Briony's face for any

nothing. No hint of pain broke through Briony's gentle,

a shaky, bitter laugh, her eyes shining with tears. "Briony, that was

hurt you

Briony didn't argue.

James rushed over, stepping

and shielding Briony. "Enough, torna! Bryn doesn't owe her ex-husband a

she's here tonight is for the children. Attending Stewart's funeral is more

at

her cheeks. She was someone who'd long since learned to accept death, someone who prided herself on composure. Losing control like this -she couldn't remember the last

briskly wiped her