Regretting the Wife He Threw Away novel Chapter 98

At Quentin’s words, the faint curve at the corner of his mouth vanished.

Those two had never managed to get along.

Rosita’s eyes flickered. She clung to Stewart’s arm, her delicate frame half-collapsing against his chest, her tear-filled eyes looking up at him for support.

“Stewart, tell me—why did Irwin fall down the stairs?”

Stewart lowered his gaze to her, speaking softly. “It was my oversight. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not blaming you…” Rosita’s tears spilled over, streaming down her cheeks. “I just don’t understand. He called me not even an hour ago—he sounded so happy. He told me his mom, Bryn, had come home to spend New Year’s with him. Why… why would he suddenly fall down the stairs?!”

Irwin had called Rosita?

Stewart asked, “What else did he say to you?”

“He told me he couldn’t come home tonight—that Ms. Kensington was upset, and he wanted to stay with her. Irwin’s always so considerate, and I was glad to hear it. I told him not to worry about me, that he should look after Ms. Kensington. I even said, if Ms. Kensington knew how thoughtful he was, she’d be truly touched.”

“Irwin was so happy to hear that. He wished me a happy New Year, and then hung up.” The more Rosita spoke, the more her voice trembled, her tears falling like beads from a broken string.

“Stewart, I’m not blaming you, and I’m not accusing Ms. Kensington either. It’s just… as a mother, I need to know why my child got hurt. I just want to know the reason, that’s all…”

Stewart gently tried to calm her. “Rosita, it was truly an accident. Please don’t worry. Dr. Faust is already here—Irwin will be all right.”

Rosita sobbed, nodding through her tears. “Yes, you’re right. Irwin’s such a sweet, good boy. Nothing’s going to happen to him…”

Standing nearby, Quentin listened to Rosita’s words, a shadow passing over his brown eyes behind his glasses.

He glanced at Briony.

Just then, the doors to the emergency room swung open. A nurse stepped out, announcing that Irwin had lost too much blood and needed a transfusion.

But the blood bank was out of type A.

Irwin was type A. So was Quentin.

Quentin spoke up immediately. “I’m type A. Take mine!”

“You can’t!” Rosita grabbed Quentin’s arm. “Irwin can’t have your blood!”

Quentin frowned, confused. “Why not?”

Rosita froze, momentarily at a loss for words.