Regretting the Wife He Threw Away novel Chapter 5

Stewart cut a striking figure in a tailored black suit, his presence commanding and coldly dignified.

His gaze flicked dispassionately over Briony’s pale face before settling on Irwin, who was sobbing uncontrollably nearby.

“Irwin, come here.” Stewart beckoned to him.

At his words, the maids exchanged nervous glances and quickly let go of Irwin’s arms.

Irwin wasted no time; he ran straight to Stewart.

“Dad! Dad, you’re finally here!” he cried, his small body shaking with relief and tears.

Stewart knelt down, gently ruffling Irwin’s hair. His voice was calm and steady, reassuring. “Tell me, son. What happened?”

Before Irwin could answer, Rosita stepped forward.

She wiped her cheeks, her voice soft but edged with self-blame.

“It’s my fault. I didn’t think things through—I showed up out of the blue. Irwin couldn’t handle it, finding out I’m his mother. It was too much for him all at once.”

“You’re not my mom!” Irwin shouted, pushing Rosita away with surprising force. “You’re a bad woman! You’re not my mom!”

Rosita gasped as her heel twisted beneath her, and for a moment it seemed she was about to fall.

In the nick of time, Stewart stepped in, catching her and pulling her safely into his arms.

“Are you alright?” he asked, concern flickering in his usually stoic eyes.

Rosita winced, unable to put weight on her foot. “I think I twisted my ankle, but I’ll be fine. Irwin’s feelings are what matter.”

Stewart’s brow furrowed. Without another word, he scooped Rosita up in his arms. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

As he turned, his eyes met Briony’s.

Briony’s eyes were red-rimmed, and she stared at him with a desperate intensity. “Is it true? Is she really Irwin’s biological mother?”

Stewart met her gaze head-on, his deep eyes steady and cold, but without a hint of guilt.

“Yes. Rosita is Irwin’s mother.”

There was not a trace of deceit on his face. For Briony, the icy ache in her chest only deepened.

Stewart’s voice was clipped, businesslike. “Irwin listens to you. Take him home and talk to him, help him process everything.”

With that, he carried Rosita out to the waiting car.

The sleek black Maybach pulled away from the Wentworth estate, leaving Briony standing in the driveway.

She bowed her head, her eyes stinging, her lips pale as she tried to will back the tears with deep, shaky breaths.

“Mom,” Irwin said softly, his little hand wrapping around hers. “Your eyes are so red. Did you cry?”

Briony crouched down, brushing her hand gently over his small face and forcing a thin, brittle smile.

“No, sweetheart. I’m fine. Let’s get you home.” She stood and turned to Fiona. “You heard Stewart.”

Fiona glared at her, frustration simmering in her eyes. Still, with Stewart’s instructions, she had no choice but to let Irwin go.

Anyway, now that Rosita had returned and Stewart was sure to divorce Briony soon, Briony wouldn’t be able to use Irwin as an excuse to stay in the Wentworth family much longer. The thought brought Fiona a twisted sense of satisfaction.

—

On the drive home, Briony tried to explain Rosita’s identity to Irwin.

But Irwin wouldn’t listen. After a few words, he broke down in tears again.

Briony could only comfort him, feeling helpless and heartbroken.