Regretting the Wife He Threw Away

Chapter 672

Briony squeezed her hand, shaking her head at her like she was a silly girl.

Carey broke down, sobbing uncontrollably.

When they left Starlight Entertainment, Stewart was the one driving.

Briony sat in the back, her body weak, leaning into the seat.

Stewart glanced at her in the rearview mirror. "Are you feeling sick?"

Briony shook her head, gazing out the window at the passing city. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Stewart, I feel like I haven't really looked at this city in so long. Could you drive me around for a bit?"

Stewart's hands tightened almost imperceptibly on the steering wheel.

He lowered his lashes and answered softly, "Of course."

The black Bentley wound its way down the city boulevard.

They drove past the bustling heart of downtown, the streets painted in neon and laughter.

Then they slipped into the university district, lined with rows of golden-leaved trees.

The tires crunched over a carpet of fallen leaves, sending them swirling into the air-little sprites in golden cloaks, dancing on the autumn wind. The car's shadow stretched behind them, drifting farther and farther away, until those golden leaves fluttered back to earth.

A sparrow swooped down from a nearby branch, snatching up a leaf before taking off again.

Autumn had arrived. And with it, winter couldn't be far behind.

...

By the edge of Pearbrook, the black Bentley came to a stop.

The setting sun had painted the sky in brilliant crimson.

Inside the car, Briony sat with her eyes closed.

turned, his voice gentle as he called,

slowly opened her

at Pearbrook," Stewart said

down the

the faint scent of blooming flowers-a fragrance

last

across her pale, fragile

back door opened and Briony

hurriedly unbuckled and followed

row of flowering trees

drifting

walked ahead, Stewart quietly

Briony's breath grew heavier, her steps faltering under the weight

lowered herself onto an empty

down beside her, unscrewed the top

over.

the warm

thermos back to Stewart,

what you said, about wanting your ashes scattered

Stewart froze.

look at

don't want to rest here forever," Briony said, offering him a faint smile. "If don't make it through this, please

children, keep them safe and healthy for a long, long

voice was strained, his throat tight, "don't

as hard as I can, but if I'm not around, I'll always feel like I let our children down. I want to do what I can to make it

deeper breath, her voice

by so quickly. In the blink of an eye, the

"I remember, years ago, I stood right there and watched a woman playing with her little child-maybe two, three years old. That moment hit

at her,

turned to him,

"Stewart, I want so much to watch them grow

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