Regretting the Wife He Threw Away novel Chapter 182

Here is a culturally localized English adaptation for a Western novel audience. All Chinese-specific cultural elements, names, and references have been seamlessly replaced or adapted for natural, immersive reading:

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This trip to Ghana had come up out of nowhere.

Neither Briony nor Stella had time to pack clothes suitable for the local weather. Thankfully, most of what they’d brought from Cloudcrest City was light spring wear. Each of them rummaged through their suitcases and pulled out the thinnest sundresses they could find.

Briony, still recovering from an illness, looked even more fragile than usual. The cream-colored dress she chose hung loosely from her slender frame, the small V-neck unable to hide her collarbones—so sharp and delicate they looked as if they could cradle a butterfly. She was beautiful, certainly, but for an expectant mother, her thinness was worrying.

Stella eyed her up and down, her gaze drifting to Briony’s stomach. With a sigh, she reached out and gently touched Briony’s belly. “Who ever heard of someone carrying twins and still being this skinny? When all this is over and we get back to Northborough, I’m going to have a serious talk with Gina. She needs to make sure you get your strength back!”

Briony had always been the type who lost weight easily, and with everything that had happened lately, the stress had only made things worse.

Stella withdrew her hand and gave a resigned sigh. “On the bright side, at least nobody would ever guess you’re pregnant.”

Briony looked at her own reflection in the tall mirror, quietly laying a hand over her stomach.

–

It was eight in the morning when Briony and Stella came downstairs.

They’d rented a car locally—Cedric Clarke was at the wheel, with Stewart riding shotgun. Stella linked her arm through Briony’s as they slid into the back seat.

Once the doors were shut, Cedric started the engine. “Let’s grab some breakfast first,” he suggested. “It’s still early.”

They definitely needed food. Briony, after a day of nausea, finally felt hungry again.

Five minutes later, they pulled up outside a small breakfast café by the coast.

It was run by a Chinese family—a sign of the growing number of Chinese tourists discovering Ghana in recent years, and enterprising expats seizing the opportunity. The owner, originally from the Winslow Harbor area, was warm and welcoming. The menu featured all sorts of Asian breakfast staples—soy milk, fried bread sticks, dumplings, stuffed buns, you name it.

Even comforting rice porridge and sweet potato soup were on offer.

Briony ordered a bowl of the mild rice porridge, something easy on the stomach.

Cedric had picked the place and ordered himself a peanut soup, sipping it with an air of vacation bliss. Stella shot him a look that could have curdled milk.

He caught her glare, cleared his throat awkwardly, and tried to joke, “Come on, Stella, at least we’re supporting fellow countrymen!”

Stella took a vicious bite of her fried bread, glaring at him. “You really think we’re here on holiday? Briony was forced into this mission, and honestly, this meal’s making my stomach tie itself in knots.”

Cedric had no comeback for that and fell silent.

Compared to Stella and Cedric’s banter, Stewart and Briony were ice-cold. Though they sat across from each other, they didn’t exchange a single word—or even a glance.

Briony quietly ate her porridge, slowly but steadily, managing to finish two-thirds of the bowl. Stewart barely touched his own food, spending the last few minutes in silence, his gaze never leaving Briony.

She ignored him, focusing on her meal. When she was finished, she set down her spoon, dabbed her mouth with a napkin, and glanced at Stella.

Stella had already finished and was waiting for her.

The two women exchanged a look, then rose in unison and headed outside.