Regretting the Wife He Threw Away novel Chapter 548

Briony stared out the window as the sky loomed overhead, heavy and oppressive, like a black hole caving in on the world.

From her phone, the howl of wind cut through the silence.

A man’s trembling voice, thick with tears, came through the speaker again. “Bryn, I’m sorry. Meeting me in this life has only brought you pain. If there’s another life after this, don’t let us cross paths again.”

Briony’s grip tightened around her daughter.

She said nothing.

Carl clung to the steering wheel, his eyes rimmed red.

Crystal held up the phone, uncertain what to do.

Even she could sense something was terribly wrong—how could Briony not know?

Yet Briony remained silent.

Stewart’s voice came again, rough with emotion. “Bryn, I left a few things for the kids at Southcreek Manor. In the years ahead, I’m counting on you. Please, on their birthdays, take them there to collect what’s theirs.”

At the mention of the children, Briony finally replied, her answer soft and even: “Alright.”

Just one quiet word, but it made Carl’s tears fall silently down his face.

“Bryn,” Stewart’s voice was almost lost in the wind, “do you still blame me?”

Briony’s lashes fluttered.

The next moment, the call dropped.

Crack—

Thunder split the sky, and rain came crashing down in torrents.

Fat droplets battered the car in a relentless rhythm.

The light turned green.

Carl pressed the gas, and the Maybach glided forward, steady through the storm.

Inside, the phone disappeared back into Briony’s bag.

Little Nina buried her face in her mother’s arms, sobbing, her cries for Daddy coming out in broken hiccups.

It was so unlike her—a sign, perhaps, of something she could sense but not understand.

Briony held her daughter close, silently stroking her back.

As the car door opened, Briony gently passed her sleeping daughter to James, then gathered little Mario in her arms and stepped out into the downpour.

Crystal held an umbrella over Briony as they walked.

Carl didn’t say a word. As soon as the door shut, he spun the wheel and the car sped away into the storm.

James, carrying Little Nina, started up the stairs—when a sudden clap of thunder rattled the house.

Little Nina, who’d been sleeping soundly, jolted awake and burst into fresh tears.

Her wailing was hoarse, her little voice raw.

James tried to soothe her, but nothing worked. She seemed more fragile than ever tonight.

“Are you feeling sick?” he asked, touching her forehead. “No fever…”

Briony came in, setting little Mario on the couch. She crossed over and gathered her daughter into her arms.

“Little Nina, does anything hurt?”

“Mommy, I had a dream…” Little Nina looked up at Briony through red, tearful eyes. “I dreamed Daddy turned into an angel and flew away to heaven and he’s never coming back! Mommy, I don’t want Daddy to be an angel. I want him to come home…”