Regretting the Wife He Threw Away novel Chapter 275

The pediatricians did everything they could, and somehow managed to pull Briony’s baby girl back from the brink.

But things were still far from hopeful.

No matter what anyone said, Briony insisted on going to the pediatric ward to see her daughter.

Gwendolyn White tried to reason with her. “Even if you go, they won’t let you in. Besides, you haven’t recovered yet—moving around isn’t a good idea.”

“I can use a wheelchair,” Briony replied, her gaze unwavering as she looked at Gwendolyn. “Godmother, I haven’t even seen them with my own eyes since they were born. I can’t shake this feeling of unease. Please, just let me see her. Just once.”

Gwendolyn’s nerves were shot. She forced herself to appear calm, though inside she was anything but.

“Bryn, listen to Mrs. Winslow,” James chimed in, trying to help. “I’ve heard how important it is for women to rest after giving birth. How about this: I’ll go to the neonatal ward again and film a few more videos for you, okay?”

Briony’s brow furrowed as her eyes flicked between Gwendolyn and James. “Why are you both so intent on keeping me from seeing my children?”

Both of them froze, caught off guard.

“Is there something you’re not telling me?” Briony reached for Gwendolyn’s hand, her voice tight with worry. “Godmother, please, don’t lie to me. Just tell me the truth, I’m begging you.”

Gwendolyn’s nose stung as tears threatened. She ducked her head, unable to meet Briony’s gaze any longer.

Briony’s breath caught in her throat. She turned to James. “Mr. Delaney, tell me—my babies are both okay, aren’t they?”

James pressed his lips together, his eyes rimmed with red. He wanted to say yes, but the words stuck in his throat and wouldn’t come.

From their reactions, Briony began to understand. A suffocating dread closed in on her.

Ignoring the pain from her stitches, she braced herself on the bed and tried to sit up.

“Bryn!” Gwendolyn quickly pressed her back down. “Don’t move—you’ll tear your stitches.”

Briony had no strength left. Gwendolyn’s hands on her shoulders were enough to pin her in place.

Her eyes, red and pleading, locked on Gwendolyn’s face. “Godmother… you’ve only shown me photos of my daughter. Is it… is it because—my son… he’s…”

She opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she watched Gwendolyn close her eyes and give the slightest, most heartbreaking nod.

Briony’s pupils constricted, her breath stilled.

Her grip on Gwendolyn’s hand slackened, then slipped away entirely. She pressed her palm to her chest, mouth working but not a single word escaping.

Gwendolyn, crying now, tried to comfort her. “Bryn, the doctors did everything they could. There was nothing more anyone could do. You have to stay strong—for your daughter, Bryn, you have to hold on for her…”

Briony’s gaze was vacant, her hand over her heart as silent tears poured down her cheeks.

James stood nearby, unable to bear the sight, turning away to wipe his own tears.

The room was heavy with grief.

And yet, the one who had the most reason to fall apart was silent.

Worried that Briony would make herself sick by bottling it all up, Gwendolyn squeezed her hand, urging her softly, “Bryn, if you need to cry, let it out. You’ll feel better if you do.”

Briony shook her head, blinking her red-rimmed eyes. She looked at Gwendolyn. “Godmother, I never even got to see him. I want to see him.”

Gwendolyn froze.

“Please, let me see him,” Briony pleaded.