Stewart walked over and settled into the armchair across from her.
His deep-set eyes lingered on her. His voice was low, measured. "When are you coming home?"
"Home?" Briony let out a cold laugh. "Stewart, do you really think there's still a home for you and me?"
"We're not divorced." Stewart's face was unreadable. "It's been a week. Don't you think it's time to let things go?"
Briony almost laughed at the absurdity.
"Stewart, in your mind, did you really think I spent the last four years hiding away in that old town just to spite you?"
The sarcasm in her voice was unmistakable.
He pressed his fingers against his brow, as if fighting off a headache. "What do you want, Briony? What will it take for you to come back?"
"I have a steady life here," she shot back. "I'm surrounded by people who love me, real friends and family. I don't have to look over my shoulder, worried Rosita will try to ruin me, all because of you. Why would I go back? To be someone's victim again?"
Stewart's mouth tightened. After a moment, he said, "At least do it for the kids. Little Nina can't spend her whole life in a tiny town like this. If you come back to Northborough, I'll make sure she has the very best."
"The best?" Briony's laugh was sharp. "Do you mean the privileges of the Wentworth family? Or are you talking about your precious inheritance?"
She scoffed. "Don't forget, Stewart—you have Irwin. He's always been your favorite, your one true heir to the Wentworth name."
"Irwin's existence doesn't threaten Little Nina." Stewart's gaze was steady, his tone serious. "I'll be fair to both children."
"And you think those words are supposed to move me?" Briony retorted, her voice ice-cold.
"Briony..." Stewart looked at her, then sighed. "Irwin's asked about you a lot these past four years. You misunderstood his background before, but I've explained everything. You raised him from infancy. After all this time, don't you miss him?"
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