Regretting the Wife He Threw Away

Inside the tiny fitting room, Briony stood frozen, her arms full of lacy lingerie she had no intention of trying on.

The space was barely three feet wide-cramped even for one person. But, as if that weren't enough, this particular fitting room opened up to a narrow staircase leading to a loft above a makeshift storage attic.

She heard footsteps approaching.

Sensing something, Briony looked up.

A figure dressed in black appeared in the doorway.

It was a man-black baseball cap pulled low, half his face hidden behind a mask, only his eyes visible: narrow, deep-set, and impossible to read.

He was tall. With two long strides, he descended the twisting wooden steps from the attic and stood before her.

The moment he appeared, Briony understood what Mary had been planning all along.

She stared at the man in front of her, her thoughts scattered, as if time itself had stopped.

still dressed as

believed Stewart was

was he here, in Blair's disguise, to

Mr. Hoffman told him she already knew

a heavy silence,

it was Stewart

closed his eyes, let out a weary sigh, and reached up to

nothing like the scarred, twisted

only ever existed during

the mask, his heart

He was scared, too.

to see him. Afraid

so calm now. Even as he revealed himself,

a whisper, trembling with emotion. He felt a

wanted to say, and yet, he couldn't

had time to process the truth ever since she'd started suspecting Blair's real identity. When she saw Stewart, disguised