Regretting the Wife He Threw Away novel Chapter 120

Briony froze at the sound of Irwin’s voice. She had just started to turn when she spotted the little boy barreling toward her.

Before she could react, Irwin threw his arms wide and launched himself at her.

He was fast—too fast. Briony instinctively pressed a hand to her stomach and reached out to stop him, but James was quicker.

James stepped in, pulling Briony aside and planting his large hand squarely on Irwin’s forehead, stopping him in his tracks.

Irwin glared up at James, indignant and thwarted. “Let me go! I want my mom!”

“Why are you everywhere I turn?” James scowled, voice dripping with exasperation. “Are you some kind of shapeshifter, kid? Did you forget what you said yesterday? Is there something wrong with your head? Go back to your mom, Rosita, and get that sorted out.”

“You big jerk! I’m not even looking for you, so let me go!” Irwin flailed his arms in protest, but he was so small that he couldn’t even reach James, let alone land a hit.

Briony caught sight of Rosita rising from her seat a short distance away. She looked from Rosita back to Irwin.

“Irwin, go back to your mother,” Briony said gently.

Irwin paused and looked up at her, his bravado crumbling. “Mom, are you still mad at me?”

“I’m not,” Briony replied, her voice calm yet firm. “But I meant what I said. You shouldn’t call me ‘mom’ anymore.”

“But…” Irwin’s lip trembled, and tears welled up in his eyes. “But you are my mom! You’ve taken care of me since I was born. You taught me how to talk, eat, draw—you said you’d always love me. You… you are my mom!”

The question caught Briony off guard. She hesitated, then replied, “Thank you for asking. I’m feeling much better, so you don’t need to worry. Go on now.”

“But I miss you, Mom!” Irwin’s voice cracked, and suddenly the tears spilled over. “Are you still mad at me? I’m sorry! You haven’t hugged me in so long. Please don’t be angry, okay? I was wrong—I’m really, really sorry. Will you forgive me?”

His outburst drew the attention of everyone in the restaurant. All eyes turned on Briony, their stares shifting from curiosity to outrage and silent condemnation.

Across the room, Rosita stood by her table, watching the scene unfold.

Feeling Rosita’s gaze, Briony looked over her shoulder.

Their eyes met across the ten feet that separated them. Rosita’s lips curled into a smile—warm and sweet, but with an unmistakable hint of challenge.