Regretting the Wife He Threw Away

Presidential Suite, Westerhaven Hotel.

Briony sat at the vanity, smoothing moisturizer into her skin.

A knock sounded at the door.

She got up and opened it.

On the threshold, Maynard leaned against the frame, arms folded. "Care to watch

a movie together?"

Briony paused, surprised. "What movie?"

"The new Titanic remake."

She glanced at the clock-barely ten o'clock.

Since her recovery, her routine had settled into a strict rhythm.

Besides, of all movies, he picked that one...

Briony offered Maynard a polite smile. "Sorry, but it's already my bedtime."

"Briony, are you really that heartless?" Maynard let out a half-laugh, half-sigh. "It's just a movie. Are you guarding against me like I'm some creep? That hurts, you know."

Briony's tone was earnest. "After all, it took a lot to get my life

it through. So, you tell me

"Mr. Maynard,

He cut her off, eyes bright with mischief, words taunting. "Briony, you're such a

at

you so afraid of?" Maynard arched an eyebrow with a teasing

you five years old? Are you really trying to win me over with reverse

can I do?" Maynard shrugged, grinning. "You're immune to everything. I'm running out

a sincere suggestion. "You could

a few more years I'll

but laugh

about this," he continued, "Why not just accept

years, and then dump

out a sigh,

"Maynard,

know you like toĝoke around,

with a flourish. "It might sound like a joke,

more serious than anyone."

you," Briony said, shaking her head.

door, Maynard's hand darted

barely had time to react

later, a hotel staff member

lounged on the sofa, one arm