Login via

Regretting the Wife He Threw Away novel Chapter 41

Rosita’s breath caught, her face drained of color as she swayed unsteadily, those innocent eyes glassy with unshed tears.

Briony watched with cold detachment, silently counting in her mind.

One, two, three…

On cue, Rosita squeezed her eyes shut and collapsed, her slender frame crumpling to the floor.

“Rosita!”

Stewart rushed forward and scooped the unconscious Rosita into his arms. He shot Briony a quick look, then turned and strode out of the room without another word.

Briony remained a silent observer, her expression unmoved, not even a flicker of emotion crossing her face.

Rosita’s timing was always impeccable—she could faint at just the right moment, every single time. Stewart, blinded by love, never seemed to notice.

Briony closed the door to the hospital room, drew a deep breath, and let her eyes flutter shut.

“Bryn.”

Briony opened her eyes at the sound of her mother’s voice, meeting Julia’s red-rimmed gaze.

“Bryn, what’s really going on between you and Attorney Wentworth?” Julia blurted out, then quickly added, “I’m not accusing you, sweetheart. I’m just worried about you.”

Briony walked over and took her mother’s hand. “Mom, I didn’t tell you before because I thought it would all be over soon, and I didn’t want you to worry unnecessarily. If I’d known things would get this complicated, I would’ve told you everything from the start.”

Julia’s heart sank with dawning suspicion. “So, you and Attorney Wentworth—you’re…”

Briony’s face was calm, her eyes hollowed out by old wounds. These days, just hearing Stewart’s name left her cold. “We’re in the middle of a divorce.”

Top floor, private suite.

Rosita blinked awake on the hospital bed.

Stewart stood at the window with his back to her, tall and rigid, his whole demeanor radiating a cold, unapproachable energy.

Even just his silhouette was enough to make Rosita’s heart flutter.

She propped herself up, her voice soft and tentative. “Stewart?”

He turned his head slightly. “You’re awake.”

His face was unreadable, his tone distant.

Rosita faltered. “What’s wrong?”

She went home, packed a few changes of clothes for Julia, then made her way to her studio.

Once there, Briony opened her laptop and checked her email.

Earlier that afternoon, she’d received a message.

It was from her old mentor—someone she hadn’t heard from in years.

There was no text, just a few attached photographs.

Briony recognized the artifact at a glance.

It was a porcelain statue of Christ, popular at the turn of the fourteenth century.

Artifacts like these had been discovered by archaeologists in the 1970s.

Most had ended up in the National Museum of History.

Briony enlarged the photos, examining every detail.

Every year around the holidays, Briony would send her mentor a greeting. She’d always felt guilty for letting her mentor down, so she kept her messages short, never daring to mention anything personal—just a simple well-wish.

Her mentor had never replied.

Reading History

No history.

Comments

The readers' comments on the novel: Regretting the Wife He Threw Away