Regretting the Wife He Threw Away novel Chapter 223

After Lauren and Irwin left, Briony hesitated for a moment before returning to her lounge to check things over.

She didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary.

Shaking her head, she thought she was probably just being overly cautious. Irwin was only a child—what could he possibly get up to?

Still, Briony really didn’t want to be disturbed again.

Stepping out of her office, she turned to Hannah and said, “From now on, for any reason at all, don’t let in anyone connected to Irwin Stewart.”

“Understood.” Hannah sighed quietly. “Briony, I’m sorry… she said she was sent by Mr. Lewis, and I was worried about offending him, so—”

“I get it. But the item she brought was a fake. And that claim about Mr. Lewis? Almost certainly a lie.”

Briony caught the guilty look on Hannah’s face, and her voice softened. “The client coming this afternoon—Mr. Chadwick—his background is much more significant than Mr. Lewis’s. Chin up.”

Hannah nodded. “I understand!”

Briony returned to her restoration studio and picked up her work.

At three in the afternoon, the Chadwicks arrived.

Mr. and Mrs. Chadwick were celebrating their golden anniversary this year, and the love between them was still unmistakable.

Mrs. Chadwick wanted to have an old dress restored.

It was her wedding gown—a handmade, bespoke piece Mr. Chadwick had commissioned at great expense all those years ago.

The dress was crafted using a rare, traditional weaving technique, with intricate folk embroidery. It was a true work of art.

Sadly, time had taken its toll. Despite careful maintenance, the natural fabrics had deteriorated, and about thirty percent of the dress was now damaged.

Mrs. Chadwick hoped to restore it. She wanted to wear it again for a set of golden anniversary photos with her husband.

Briony was deeply moved. Love that steadfast was a rare thing indeed.

She wanted to take on the project, but the repair involved advanced textile techniques.

Briony asked Hannah to call in Lydia.

When Lydia saw the dress, she shook her head. “This one’s tough. The origins are remarkable—it’s a handwoven ceremonial gown, considered a cultural treasure where it’s from.”

Briony looked at Mrs. Chadwick.

With a gentle smile, Mrs. Chadwick explained, “Yes, I was born in a small village with a long tradition of weaving. My husband, ever the romantic, combined the fabric from my coming-of-age ceremony with my wedding gown. He asked the village elders to weave and embroider it by hand.”

Briony couldn’t help but smile. “Mr. Chadwick must love you very much.”