Regretting the Wife He Threw Away novel Chapter 763

Maynard stood with one hand in his pocket, about ten feet from the bed. His gaze was lowered, looking down on Xenia as she lay there.

Her face was pale, but her eyes were fixed on him. Without her usual meticulous makeup, her gaze lacked its typical sharp intensity. Instead, her stare was calm, tinged with a fragile vulnerability.

Vulnerable?

Maynard laughed. That word had nothing to do with Xenia.

“Xenia Cooper, I told you a long time ago to stop with the self-pity act. Sooner or later, it was bound to backfire.”

The man’s voice was cold, every word laced with prejudice and disgust for her.

In the past, Xenia would have fought back. Even when misunderstood, she had always been the proud heiress of the Cooper family, unwilling to show weakness, disdainful of explanations. She had always known that arguing with a man who didn't love you—who constantly questioned your character—was beneath her. Despite her deep love for him, she had never abandoned her pride.

But things were different now. She had died once. In the moment she opened her eyes, it felt as though some of her deepest obsessions had simply dissolved. Now, all she wanted was to do something for Vernon.

She looked at Maynard and spoke slowly, “Maynard, tomorrow, go to Pearbrook Mansion and pick up Vernon.”

Maynard frowned. “Xenia Cooper, do you have any idea what you’re saying?”

She saw the mockery on his face clearly. Remaining calm, she stared at him and enunciated each word: “Vernon is your son.”

Maynard froze. For a split second, his mind went blank, then an instinctive, derisive rebuttal followed. “Xenia Cooper, did you take too many sleeping pills and fry your brain?! You’re so desperate to keep me tangled up with you that you’d make up this kind of garbage? But have you even thought about Naylor when you say something like this?”

“If it weren’t for Naylor,” Xenia said, her fingers tightening on the blanket, “I wouldn’t have hidden this from you for so long.”

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