Regretting the Wife He Threw Away

Out in the yard, the two children were laughing and playing with Stewart, their voices bright and joyful, carrying through the crisp winter air and into the house.

Briony watched them through the window, a gentle smile softening her features. "Star, help me take a few more photos and videos, would you?" she asked quietly. Stella's heart felt heavy, but she kept her expression calm as she nodded. "Of course." She reached for the camera and began snapping shots from every angle she could find.

In the snowy garden, Stewart crouched beside a snowman, the children flanking him on either side. The three of them turned together, glancing back at Briony as if drawn by the same thought.

Separated by the glass of the French doors, their eyes met-mother and father, son and daughter-a family united by a single, silent gaze.

Briony lifted her hand, her fingertips pressing gently against the cold pane.

Click.

Stella captured the moment perfectly.

She stared at the image on the camera's screen, her breath catching, tears stinging at her eyes.

There was still no news from the bone marrow registry. Two days ago, Dr. Cedric Clarke had said that if a donor couldn't be found soon, Briony might not make it through the winter...

turned away quickly, wiping her face before

evening, Gwendolyn and her husband arrived with James Delaney. Briony was too tired to entertain guests for long, so after a short visit, they took the children home, leaving the house quiet

Stewart and a professional

had grown more and more drowsy these past few days. She'd pushed herself to stay awake while the children were there, but now, with the house empty, she returned to her

carrying her medication the bedside lamp cast a soft amber glow over the room. Briony was slumped against the headboard, sleeping so deeply that even in rest, her brow was

set the medicine down and crouched beside her, gazing at the woman who had fought so hard, for so long. His chest ached with helpless sorrow. He knew how brave

give in, but the illness had shown no

consultation. The prognosis was grim. No

wake her. Instead, he slipped into the bathroom and brought back a bottle of makeup remover

her half-sleep, Briony felt something cool brushing

paused, meeting her gaze. "Let me help you clean your face. Once you've had your medicine, you

a faint sound of agreement,

face, his throat tightening at the sight of

her to drink her medicine.