Regretting the Wife He Threw Away novel Chapter 362

"Dad." Irwin hurried to his feet and rushed over to Stewart. "Dad, please don't be mad—it was my idea to come here."

At that, Stewart turned his gaze to Irwin.

"Irwin, don't think I'll let you off easy just because you're young."

Irwin froze.

It was the first time his father had ever raised his voice at him.

He looked up, wide-eyed, unable to believe it.

"Dad…" His eyes filled with tears, trembling on the verge of spilling over. "I just… I just missed Mom, that's all…"

Rosita quickly stood and pulled Irwin behind her, shielding him. "Stewart, don't do this. He's just a child—he doesn't understand any of this. If you're angry, be angry at me, but don't take it out on Irwin."

Pressed close to his mother's back, Irwin truly felt, for the first time, how much she loved him.

"Mom…"

"Irwin, don't be scared," Rosita soothed him gently, her voice a comforting balm. "Your dad and I just… have some things to work out, that's all."

Sniffling, Irwin looked back at Stewart. "Dad, Mom's still sick—her wrist hasn't even healed yet…"

Stewart's eyes narrowed. "I'll only say this once. Come here."

Irwin hesitated, then dropped his head and shuffled over.

Stewart's voice was icy. "Wait for me in the car."

Irwin paused, nodded, and walked out with his head bowed.

"Irwin—" Rosita started after him, but Stewart grabbed her arm in a tight, punishing grip.

"Rosita. I told you—Irwin is no longer your concern."

Agony shot up her arm where his fingers dug in, and Rosita sobbed, pleading, "He's my son! I nearly died bringing him into this world! Stewart, please, don't be so cruel…"

"Cruel?" Stewart's eyes turned cold as steel. "You killed my son. Who's the real monster here?"

Stewart looked down at the boy he'd always doted on, disappointment flickering across his face. "Irwin, do you even know what she did?"

"I don't know," Irwin said, frowning, "but none of that matters—she's my mom, and I won't just stand by and watch you hurt her."

Stewart let out a cold laugh. "If you care about her so much, have you ever thought about your Mom Bryn?"

Irwin's eyes went wide in confusion.

"She's the reason your Mom Bryn lost her baby. She's the reason you don't have a little brother."

Irwin stared at him, stunned, unable to process what he was hearing.

He'd only been five years old then—too young to understand what Lauren had taught him to do, too young to grasp the consequences.

All he remembered was that Briony had been pregnant, and Grandma and Mom had kept warning him that once she had her own baby, she wouldn't want him anymore.

Not long after, Briony had left.

Dad said she'd gone to live somewhere far away.