Regretting the Wife He Threw Away novel Chapter 127

Carl pulled the car to a stop at the foot of the hill.

Stewart took Irwin’s hand, and together they began their hike up the slope.

At the entrance to the cemetery, two rows of tall, lush trees—both evergreens and flowering shrubs—lined the path, their branches intertwining overhead. The shadows they cast seemed almost like silent sentinels standing guard.

In the center of a broad, solemn plaza stood a towering stone memorial, reaching up toward the sky.

Stewart paused with Irwin in front of the monument and laid a wreath at its base.

The air was thick with silence.

It was Irwin’s first time here, and he looked around with wide-eyed curiosity.

Stewart held his small hand tightly as they made their way up toward the graves clustered on the hillside.

Countless unnamed heroes of the modern age lay at rest here.

“Dad, who are we visiting?” Irwin asked.

“We're here to see a great hero.” Stewart glanced down at him, his eyes shadowed by a heaviness Irwin didn’t quite understand.

“Like Iron Man?” Irwin pressed, hope flickering in his voice.

“Iron Man’s just a story,” Stewart replied quietly, his tone solemn. “But every hero here was real.”

“Oh!” Irwin’s big eyes darted around, absorbing everything.

They stopped at a simple, black headstone. No name. No inscription.

Stewart knelt, setting the flowers gently at its base. He wiped away the dust with his hand and stared at the stone, his dark eyes locked on it.

The silence between them was heavy with unspoken words.

Irwin stood at his father’s side, glancing from the headstone to Stewart. He had a thousand questions but sensed his dad’s mood, so he wisely stayed quiet.

“Irwin,” Stewart said, turning back and gently ruffling his son’s hair. His voice was low, steady. “Kneel down and pay your respects.”

“Okay!”

Irwin dropped to his knees in front of the grave, pressing his hands to the ground, and bowed his head in a solemn gesture.

When he finished, he looked up at Stewart, his small face full of innocence and trust.

Stewart helped him to his feet, his large hand enveloping Irwin’s tiny one. “Come on. Let’s go.”