Regretting the Wife He Threw Away

Briony had no choice but to accept it.

Stewart stood nearby, watching the two of them. There was a shadow of loneliness in his deep-set eyes.

Maynard had been visiting often these days. Even though he knew Briony was unwell, he never made a big show of concern. He had a knack for reading the room, always knowing when to step forward and when to hold back. Whenever Briony was with him, she smiled a little more easily.

Stewart couldn't help but feel defeated. He didn't have Maynard's social grace, never knew the right thing to say, and when he was alone with Briony, silence usually filled the space between them.

Briony invited Maynard to take a seat.

Maynard settled in comfortably beside her.

Briony looked over at Cedric Clarke. "Star had a bit to drink. He fell asleep on the couch in the den."

Cedric Clarke frowned slightly and stood up at once. "I'll go check on him."

No sooner had Cedric Clarke left than Aster suddenly burst into tears.

Little Nina called out in a panic, "Oh no, the baby's crying! Mr. Clarke, your son is crying!"

But Cedric was nowhere to be found.

So Stewart had to step in and try to soothe Aster.

Aster hadn't been weaned yet, and fussed whenever he got sleepy.

Stewart had never dealt with such a tiny, squirmy baby before. The chubby little bundle felt heavy and awkward in his arms, and he had no idea how to calm him down. It was giving him a headache.

sight of Stewart's helpless struggle with

Maynard, I'm sorry, will you excuse me? I need

had disappeared as well. At this point,

walked over to Stewart. "Let me do

at her, concerned. "Are you sure? He's

a plump, well-fed little boy, and holding him for

couldn't help but laugh. "He's just a

Stewart handed

cradled the baby, gently bouncing him and speaking to him in a

his mother. Even Briony's efforts did nothing to calm him. Now that he was a year old,

Maynard eventually

no one but his

was nothing for it-Briony had

uneasy, followed

here and keep Mr. Maynard company. Don't

"Of course, Mr. Wentworth. I'll make

...

carried the still-sobbing Aster

was ajar, and from inside

of your mind? Why did you have to tell my mother I'd

Am I not allowed

went and tattled anyway! Don't think I don't see right through you, Cedric. You just want

telling

more housewife, no more human milk machine. If you and my mom try

frustration. “Stella, that's enough! You're drunk and