Regretting the Wife He Threw Away

On New Year's Day, Pearbrook Mansion was decked out in festive decorations, every corner brimming with holiday cheer.

Little Nina and little Mario were dressed in bright red outfits Stewart had picked out for them—cheerful, vibrant, and making them look like the very embodiment of good luck.

Briony's dress was chosen by Stella, also in a warm, festive red.

This year's celebration felt more meaningful than any before.

Stella and Cedric Clarke had brought Aster to the Clarke family estate for their own family gathering, but they'd come by early to drop off gifts for the twins before heading out again.

Briony, too, had prepared a present for Aster.

Just before Stella left, Briony pulled her aside and lowered her voice. "I heard from James last night that you and Cedric Clarke had a fight at city hall last month?"

Stella froze, then stomped her foot. "That blabbermouth James! I told him not to

tell you!"

Briony raised an eyebrow. "You really kept something this big from me? Am I not your sister?"

Stella, caught red-handed, bit her lip and mumbled, "Well, nothing actually happened in the end, so don't worry about it."

"What was it about this time?"

Stella kept her head down and pouted, refusing to say another word.

Briony glanced at Cedric, waiting outside in the car, and sighed. "Alright, just... try not to act on impulse, okay? It's the holidays—peace is precious. The Clarkes have a big family; be careful with your words so there are no misunderstandings, alright?"

"I know, I know!" Stella waved. "I'm going!"

then." She looked at Cedric. "Drive

rolling down the window. "Will do. It's windy out

buckled herself

turned and headed back into the

room was alive with

grown men and two little ones were crouched on the floor, fussing over a

have thought, just a few years ago, that Stewart

scene, warmth

were more trouble than help, darting

Come wash your hands. Let's

sparkled. "I love cooking

her tiny footprints stamped on the

the sight

the bridge

nose.

has made it.

like Little Nina'

again

wipe away his own prints with his little

No luck.

another one, figuring two

of small limbs sprinted by, heading straight for the

two more tiny prints, one

gave a helpless

dispenser in hand. "Figureme

SO the footprints have