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!"

smiled. "Go on, then." She looked at Cedric. "Drive safe, Dr.

the window. "Will do. It's

the passenger seat and little Aster buckled

headed back into

room was alive

men and two little ones were crouched on the floor,

ago, that

the scene, warmth

trouble than help, darting around

your hands. Let's get

eyes sparkled. "I love cooking with

her tiny footprints stamped on the decorations she

caught the

the bridge of

nose.

stamp has

Well, looks like Little

again

away his own prints with

No luck.

he just made another one,

sprinted by, heading straight for

were two more tiny prints, one left and one

a helpless

dispenser in hand. "Figureme

SO the footprints have